The Winning Hand by Nora Roberts

accomplished quickly and efficiently by transferring the amount of your winnings from The Comanche’s account to yours. Do you want the money sent to your bank in Kansas?”
    “No.” She refused swiftly, then fell into silence.
    “Where do you want it sent, Darcy?” Caine asked gently.
    “I don’t know. Maybe it could just stay in the same bank. Here?”
    “That’s not a problem. You’re aware that the IRS gets the first bite.”
    She nodded, signing her name to the last form. Under her lashes, she watched Mac go to the door to let in the room-service waiter.
    Mac wore black trousers and a white shirt. Both looked soft, almost fluid, and she wondered about the texture, wished she could run her fingertips over them. Over him.
    “You’re going to need financial advice.”
    “What?” Flushing, berating herself for not paying attention, she looked over at Caine. “I’m sorry.”
    “Tomorrow morning, you’re going to have a great deal of money. You’ll need a financial advisor.”
    “You can’t do that?”
    “I can give you some basic and initial guidance. After that, you’re going to want someone who specializes. I can give you some names.”
    “I’d appreciate it.”
    “That’s pretty much it.” He leaned back. “We’ll open you an account, the money will be transferred. And you’re set.”
    “Just like that?”
    “Just like that.”
    “Oh.” She pressed a hand to her suddenly jittery stomach. “God.” Once again she searched out Mac’s face, hoping he’d tell her what to do, what to say. But he only watched her, his eyes steady and unreadable.
    With an impatient huff for her son, Serena rose. “I’d say this calls for a celebration. Mac, darling, open the champagne. Darcy, you get the first glass.”
    “It’s so nice of you, all of you, but—” She jolted when the cork popped.
    “I’ve never lost a million to anyone more appealing.” Justin took the glass from his son and carried it to Darcy. “Enjoy it.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
    Warmth spread in her stomach, pressure weighed on her chest. “Thank you.”
    “Congratulations.” Caine took her hand, covered it with both of his.
    Then everyone was lifting glasses, and talking. She was hugged, kissed by everyone, with the notable exception of Mac. He only lifted a hand to her cheek, skimmed a finger down it.
    There was laughing, and arguments over the time and place for a family dinner, which, she realized with shock, included her. Serena draped an arm casually around her shoulder while telling Caine he was an idiot if he thought she’d settle for pizza for such an occasion.
    Emotions were clawing at her, rising up to squeeze her heart, to close her throat and burn her eyes. She heard her own breath begin to hitch and clamped down hard.
    “Excuse me.” She managed to mumble it before turning quickly for the stairs. Horribly aware the laughter had stopped, she rushed up, closed herself in the bathroom. She held on, carefully turning the water on full in the sink so the sound would cover her sobs.
    She sat on the floor, curled up into herself and wept like a baby.

Chapter 6
    The suite was quiet when Darcy came out again. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified to realize they’d left her alone. She would have to fumble her way through apologies and explanations, she told herself. But for now she could settle her nerves and emotions.
    She glanced around the bedroom, scanning the shopping bags, the boxes. The right thing to do, she told herself, was to put everything away, to tidy up, to put at least this part of her life in order.
    She was just unwrapping a new blouse when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Clutching the blouse, she stared at Mac as he stopped at the top of the suite.
    “Are you all right?”
    “Yes. I thought everyone had gone.”
    “I stayed,” he said simply, then crossed to her. He glanced down at the blouse she continued to hold in white-knuckled fingers. “Nice