Playing the odds by Nora Roberts Page A

that final bet. If he continued to see Serena, his life wasn't going to be uncomplicated.
    He might have been able to ignore the feeling of having Daniel MacGregor looking over his shoulder if he could have convinced himself that taking her to bed would get her out of his system. But those were very long odds. She was the first woman Justin had ever known who had threatened to become a permanent part of his thoughts.
    And what would she say, he wondered, if I told her her father had arranged the entire scenario from his fortress in Hyannis Port? A smile curved the corners of his mouth. She'd skin the old man and hang him up to dry, he concluded. Watching Serena walk toward the doors, Justin decided to save that little bombshell for another day.
    "I suppose you have a right to smile," Serena said coolly as she let the door close behind her. "You're on quite a winning streak."
    Justin took her hand, and in an unexpectedly courtly gesture kissed her fingers. "I intend for it to go on a lot longer before it's broken. You're really quite beautiful, Serena."
    Disconcerted, she stared at him. "When I'm angry," she finished, struggling not to be charmed.
    He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, watching her. "Really quite beautiful."
    "Don't try to throw me off by being nice." Unconsciously, she laced her fingers with his. "There's nothing nice about you."
    "No," he agreed. "Let's go out. I imagine you could use some fresh air."
    "I agreed to take a walk." Together they began to climb the stairs. "That's all I agreed to."
    "Umm-hmm. And the moon's nearly full. How'd you do tonight?"
    "The casino?" When he opened the door the wind rushed in, delightfully warm and clean. "Better than usual. We've been operating at a loss since spring."
    "Too many nickel slots—cuts your profit margin." He slipped an arm around her waist as Serena looked up at him. "You'd make more at the tables if some of your dealers were sharper."
    "It's hard to stay sharp when you work up to sixty hours a week for peanuts," she said ruefully. "Anyway, the turnover's constant. Most of them have six weeks training tops, working up from cashier to croupier, and a large percentage of them don't stay more than a couple of runs because they find out it's not the floating vacation they thought it was." Without realizing, she hooked her arm around his waist as he matched his stride to hers. "This is my favourite part."
    "What?"
    "Late at night when the ship's quiet. You can't hear anything but the sea. If I had a porthole in my cabin, I'd leave it open all night."
    "No porthole?" His hand began to move rhythmically up and down her back.
    "Only passengers and officers have outside cabins." She arched against his hand, sighing as it soothed her tired muscles. "Still, I wouldn't trade this past year for anything. It's been like finding a second family."
    "Your family's important to you?" he asked, thinking of Daniel.
    "Of course." Because she found it an odd question, Serena tilted her head back to look at him. As he angled his to meet her eyes, her lips nearly skimmed his jaw. "Don't do that," she murmured.
    "What?" And the word, soft and quiet, whispered over her parted lips.
    "You know very well what." Dropping her arm, she moved away from him toward the rail. "My family," she said more steadily as she turned, resting her arms across the wood, "has always been the most important part of my life. The loyalty is sometimes uncomfortably fierce, but necessary to all of us. What about you?"
    She looked totally and unconsciously intriguing, her soft curves hidden, yet enhanced by the mannish tux, her once tidy hairstyle being whipped apart by the wind. Her face was tilted back so that a splash of moonlight marbleized her skin.
    "My family…" Struggling to pick up the thread of the conversation, he moved to stand in front of her. "I have a sister, Diana. She's ten years younger, we've never been close."
    "Your parents?"
    "They died when I was sixteen. Diana went to live with