by another man, especially a man that looked like Nicoli, but it was so very wrong. Sinful.
She was a married woman thinking about another man. And although her marriage hadn't been happy for years, Dawn knew she was wrong for even thinking about seeing someone else. But now, as she paced the length of the pit and quickly surveyed each gaming table, she couldn't help but picture him alone in the suite upstairs. In the shower. A hot shower. That’s why he hadn’t answered the phone. She envisioned his head bowed beneath the steaming spray of water, a soapy lather sliding down over his broad muscular shoulders, his lips glistening wet, and his…. his -- I can’t do this, she heard herself say. I’m sorry, but I must go. Go where? Where did she have to go? Philip hadn’t expected her home until morning. She had a good nine hours to kill before he’d begin to worry. Shit. She regretted -- just for a second -- not following Nicoli to that presidential suite. She was lusting heavily for a man she knew nothing about and didn’t remember ever wanting anyone this much.
Not even Philip. Her husband and the father of her children. The man she’d promised to spend the rest of her life with. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part. Their marriage had been boring; nothing in comparison to what she was feeling for Nicoli -- a stranger. Before she left home that evening, Philip’s kiss seemed rushed. Obligatory. She left home disgruntled and unfulfilled, but now she concluded what she was missing from her life. For years, she’d prayed that she and Philip could rekindle the old flame they had before marriage and kids.
Now she couldn’t think of anyone or anything but Nicoli.
Chapter Seven
Joe followed Dawn down a narrow flight of stairs to the employee breakroom, where vending machines lined the wall, and the putrid smell of curry simmering in the microwave mixed with brewing coffee filled the air. The room was the basement of the casino, located below soft count – a heavily guarded room off limits to everyone but those employed to count the cash. There were numerous tables and chairs, several refrigerators and even a free hot food buffet line where employees could eat their fill once per shift.
Dawn avoided eating in the breakroom. The smell repulsed her. Instead, she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Well, how was dinner?” Joe popped open a can of soda and guzzled. All of that sugar. Hadn’t a doctor advised him sodas were the reason for that barrel belly of his?
She shrugged, “It was nice.”
“Nice? What’d you have?” he asked as if wishing she’d paint a mental picture of the overpriced entrees so he could just reach right in and grab it, gobble it down with that sugary rich cola.
“He ordered lobsters and steak, but we didn’t eat. I didn’t.”
“Why in the heck not?”
“I’m married, Joe.”
“True, but that man is loaded. And to be quite honest, I was shocked when he asked that you accompany him. That man can have any woman in this place—“
“Gee. Thanks.”
“Oh, you know what I mean, Dawn. It’s a compliment more than you’re giving me credit for.”
“No problem. I need to take a nap.” Sure, he was her superior, and she’d been rude, but she was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone about Nicoli. A man she hardly knew. There’d be no adventure-filled stories or the likes of how’d they met. She’d merely been chosen. The pick of the litter selected to escort a rich man to dinner. A gorgeous man with wavy black hair, long toned arms, a broad chest, and penetrating green eyes…
Stop it now. He’s
She was a married woman thinking about another man. And although her marriage hadn't been happy for years, Dawn knew she was wrong for even thinking about seeing someone else. But now, as she paced the length of the pit and quickly surveyed each gaming table, she couldn't help but picture him alone in the suite upstairs. In the shower. A hot shower. That’s why he hadn’t answered the phone. She envisioned his head bowed beneath the steaming spray of water, a soapy lather sliding down over his broad muscular shoulders, his lips glistening wet, and his…. his -- I can’t do this, she heard herself say. I’m sorry, but I must go. Go where? Where did she have to go? Philip hadn’t expected her home until morning. She had a good nine hours to kill before he’d begin to worry. Shit. She regretted -- just for a second -- not following Nicoli to that presidential suite. She was lusting heavily for a man she knew nothing about and didn’t remember ever wanting anyone this much.
Not even Philip. Her husband and the father of her children. The man she’d promised to spend the rest of her life with. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part. Their marriage had been boring; nothing in comparison to what she was feeling for Nicoli -- a stranger. Before she left home that evening, Philip’s kiss seemed rushed. Obligatory. She left home disgruntled and unfulfilled, but now she concluded what she was missing from her life. For years, she’d prayed that she and Philip could rekindle the old flame they had before marriage and kids.
Now she couldn’t think of anyone or anything but Nicoli.
Chapter Seven
Joe followed Dawn down a narrow flight of stairs to the employee breakroom, where vending machines lined the wall, and the putrid smell of curry simmering in the microwave mixed with brewing coffee filled the air. The room was the basement of the casino, located below soft count – a heavily guarded room off limits to everyone but those employed to count the cash. There were numerous tables and chairs, several refrigerators and even a free hot food buffet line where employees could eat their fill once per shift.
Dawn avoided eating in the breakroom. The smell repulsed her. Instead, she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Well, how was dinner?” Joe popped open a can of soda and guzzled. All of that sugar. Hadn’t a doctor advised him sodas were the reason for that barrel belly of his?
She shrugged, “It was nice.”
“Nice? What’d you have?” he asked as if wishing she’d paint a mental picture of the overpriced entrees so he could just reach right in and grab it, gobble it down with that sugary rich cola.
“He ordered lobsters and steak, but we didn’t eat. I didn’t.”
“Why in the heck not?”
“I’m married, Joe.”
“True, but that man is loaded. And to be quite honest, I was shocked when he asked that you accompany him. That man can have any woman in this place—“
“Gee. Thanks.”
“Oh, you know what I mean, Dawn. It’s a compliment more than you’re giving me credit for.”
“No problem. I need to take a nap.” Sure, he was her superior, and she’d been rude, but she was tired and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone about Nicoli. A man she hardly knew. There’d be no adventure-filled stories or the likes of how’d they met. She’d merely been chosen. The pick of the litter selected to escort a rich man to dinner. A gorgeous man with wavy black hair, long toned arms, a broad chest, and penetrating green eyes…
Stop it now. He’s
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