stand here listening to you make
threats! I'm entertaining my boss and my coworkers this evening!"
Alyssa gasped. Take her to bed? "You're supposed to be in Las Vegas,"
she wound up uncomprehendingly. And that was where he was supposed to
make love to her. Las
Vegas. Not here in her home in Ventura! Not here in her other Me.
"Ah, yes, the 'previous engagement,' I presume?" he drawled, glancing
out through the open windows at the crowd of people hovering cheerfully
on her porch.
"It wasn't a lie," she defended herself hotly. "I'd had this buffet
planned for two weeks. I simply forgot about it when I was getting
ready to leave Las Vegas last weekend. I phoned you as soon as I could
to explain, but you were very difficult to get hold of!"
"I was busy," he retorted simply.
"I'll bet!"
"Exactly what I was doing. Betting. It's my profession, remember? But
you were busy remembering that you have another life and other
commitments that come before an affair with a man you met one weekend
in Las Vegas, weren't you?"
"Jordan, it was the truth! I didn't just dream up this buffet party on
Monday morning as an excuse not to go back to Vegas tonight!"
"No, I believe you," he gritted, and then went on perceptively. "I'm
sure this party was planned long in advance and it really did just slip
your mind for a while. But you remembered as soon as you got back here
because this is where the most important part of your life takes place,
isn't it, Alyssa? This is your real world. You just come to Vegas to
play once in a while, but you always hurry back home to your job and
your friends and your 'previous commitments' when you've finished
playing. Only this time you made a mistake, sweetheart This time you
left behind a man who doesn't want to be a weekend playmate for you.
I'm not going to let you casually adjust your time with me so that it
doesn't conflict with your 'previous engagements.'"
"Will you stop saying that!"
"Previous engagements? They're your words, remember? They were on the
note you had the hotel clerk give me."
"Can't we talk about this later?" Alyssa pleaded helplessly, feeling at
a total loss. She had been priding herself on how well she could juggle
her two separate worlds, but now they had collided, and she didn't know
what to do.
"Sure," he shot back with caustic indifference. "We can talk about it
after dinner." He glanced toward
the buffet "What is for dinner, by the way? I'm starving."
"Jordan," she squeaked. "You can't stay here for dinner! I've got my
boss and everyone I work with out there on that porch!"
"Not anymore." He smiled blandly, glancing past her shoulder toward
open sliding-glass doors. "One of them has just come inside. Good
evening," he went on politely to someone standing behind her. "I'm
Jordan Kyle. I appear to be the late arrival."
"You're in luck," David McGregor proclaimed jovially as he came forward
to shake the newcomer's
hand. "We've barely begun to make inroads on Alyssa's terrific food.
David McGregor. I'm Alyssa's
boss at Yeoman Research."
For an instant of endless vertigo, Alyssa watched in horror as Jordan
and her boss shook hands. It had happened. Her fantasy life and her
real life had met. My God, she thought dazedly. What have I done?
Visions of her career going down in flames left her momentarily
paralyzed. If McGregor realized he was greeting a professional gambler
and that Alyssa had spent a weekend with him in Las Vegas . . . that
she had spent several weekends in Vegas . . .
Desperately, she pushed aside the image of mounting disaster. Nothing
short of sheer inspiration would save her now. To her unending
astonishment, it came.
"I'm so glad you could make it, after all, Jordan," she managed with a
brilliant smile that would have
done credit to a professional actress. "I know Mr. McGregor and the
others will enjoy meeting you."
She turned away from the wicked light in Jordan's golden eyes to say
very brightly to her boss, "Jordan's a very busy man, and I was afraid
he
threats! I'm entertaining my boss and my coworkers this evening!"
Alyssa gasped. Take her to bed? "You're supposed to be in Las Vegas,"
she wound up uncomprehendingly. And that was where he was supposed to
make love to her. Las
Vegas. Not here in her home in Ventura! Not here in her other Me.
"Ah, yes, the 'previous engagement,' I presume?" he drawled, glancing
out through the open windows at the crowd of people hovering cheerfully
on her porch.
"It wasn't a lie," she defended herself hotly. "I'd had this buffet
planned for two weeks. I simply forgot about it when I was getting
ready to leave Las Vegas last weekend. I phoned you as soon as I could
to explain, but you were very difficult to get hold of!"
"I was busy," he retorted simply.
"I'll bet!"
"Exactly what I was doing. Betting. It's my profession, remember? But
you were busy remembering that you have another life and other
commitments that come before an affair with a man you met one weekend
in Las Vegas, weren't you?"
"Jordan, it was the truth! I didn't just dream up this buffet party on
Monday morning as an excuse not to go back to Vegas tonight!"
"No, I believe you," he gritted, and then went on perceptively. "I'm
sure this party was planned long in advance and it really did just slip
your mind for a while. But you remembered as soon as you got back here
because this is where the most important part of your life takes place,
isn't it, Alyssa? This is your real world. You just come to Vegas to
play once in a while, but you always hurry back home to your job and
your friends and your 'previous commitments' when you've finished
playing. Only this time you made a mistake, sweetheart This time you
left behind a man who doesn't want to be a weekend playmate for you.
I'm not going to let you casually adjust your time with me so that it
doesn't conflict with your 'previous engagements.'"
"Will you stop saying that!"
"Previous engagements? They're your words, remember? They were on the
note you had the hotel clerk give me."
"Can't we talk about this later?" Alyssa pleaded helplessly, feeling at
a total loss. She had been priding herself on how well she could juggle
her two separate worlds, but now they had collided, and she didn't know
what to do.
"Sure," he shot back with caustic indifference. "We can talk about it
after dinner." He glanced toward
the buffet "What is for dinner, by the way? I'm starving."
"Jordan," she squeaked. "You can't stay here for dinner! I've got my
boss and everyone I work with out there on that porch!"
"Not anymore." He smiled blandly, glancing past her shoulder toward
open sliding-glass doors. "One of them has just come inside. Good
evening," he went on politely to someone standing behind her. "I'm
Jordan Kyle. I appear to be the late arrival."
"You're in luck," David McGregor proclaimed jovially as he came forward
to shake the newcomer's
hand. "We've barely begun to make inroads on Alyssa's terrific food.
David McGregor. I'm Alyssa's
boss at Yeoman Research."
For an instant of endless vertigo, Alyssa watched in horror as Jordan
and her boss shook hands. It had happened. Her fantasy life and her
real life had met. My God, she thought dazedly. What have I done?
Visions of her career going down in flames left her momentarily
paralyzed. If McGregor realized he was greeting a professional gambler
and that Alyssa had spent a weekend with him in Las Vegas . . . that
she had spent several weekends in Vegas . . .
Desperately, she pushed aside the image of mounting disaster. Nothing
short of sheer inspiration would save her now. To her unending
astonishment, it came.
"I'm so glad you could make it, after all, Jordan," she managed with a
brilliant smile that would have
done credit to a professional actress. "I know Mr. McGregor and the
others will enjoy meeting you."
She turned away from the wicked light in Jordan's golden eyes to say
very brightly to her boss, "Jordan's a very busy man, and I was afraid
he
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