A Match Made In Vegas Read online

  A Match Made in Vegas

  Betting On Love, Book 4

  Debra Salonen

  Loner Llama Press

  Copyright © 2018 by Debra Salonen

  Cover by Rogenna Brewer

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  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Betting On Love: the series

  Praise for DEBRA SALONEN

  Dear Reader,

  First Kiss

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Betting On Love #1: Grace’s story

  About the Author

  Also by Debra Salonen

  To my family, with love.

  I’d also like to acknowledge the estimated quarter of a million Gypsy/Romani who perished in Hitler’s death camps. From the tears of sorrow may hope

  and tolerance grow.

  Betting On Love: the series

  Welcome to Las Vegas!

  Kingston “King” Parlier—late Las Vegas Romani linchpin--named his four daughters after royalty: Alexandra, Elizabeth, Katherine, and Grace (after Grace Kelly, of course.) Before he died, he established dowries fit for a queen.

  Their mother, a revered fortuneteller, offered each of her daughters a prophecy to help them find the same happiness she’d enjoyed with their father.

  Grace: “You will marry a prince--but you will have to save him first.”

  Kate: “You can’t escape your destiny or avoid the past...when the two intersect.”

  Liz: “A man of darkness. A child of light. You’ll be able to only save one.”

  Alexa: “A child’s laughter can heal a wounded heart, but first you have to heal the child.”

  The Parlier sisters are smart, beautiful, headstrong, and...single. Despite--or, perhaps, thanks to their mother’s prophesies--none can claim to have found her happily-ever-after soulmate. And with so much going on in their lives, not one of them is in the market for romance...until a certain someone enters--or in Alexa’s case, re-enters--the picture.

  But even in Vegas, the odds on love aren’t in their favor.

  Praise for DEBRA SALONEN

  “Debra Salonen captures reader attention with multifaceted characters, layered conflict and fast pacing.”

  —Pamela Cohen, Romantic Times

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  “People who scoff at romances and accuse them of being trite, frivolous or too predictable will be very surprised, pleasantly so, I think—by the intensity, the depth and the heart of Debra Salonen....”

  —Linda Mowery, TheRomanceReader.com

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  “…a wonderfully written love story with loveable characters. The plot is engaging and certainly keeps the reader riveted throughout the story...just the sort of book to curl up with to while away some lazy afternoon hours.”

  —Jenna Richardson, www.HeartRateReviews.com

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  Praise for PRINCE CHARMING UNDERCOVER:

  “What a fantastic start to a new series! I adored Prince Charming Undercover and would have been devastated to reach the end had it not been for the fact that the first chapter of book two in the series was included at the end.”

  --Shelagh, Amazon review

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  Praise for THE DADDY GAMBLE:

  “This story has everything you could want for a romance in Vegas. It has romance, intrigue, suspense, humor and family drama. The second book in a series about 4 gypsy sisters who each are named after a princess with all their quirky friends and family. I enjoyed the well written plot. The characters are well developed and interesting. I enjoyed the book and look forward to the others in the series.”

  --CoffeeChat reviews

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  Praise for RISKY BABY BUSINESS:

  “A romance story with many twists, turns, suspense and intrigue that felt very real to me. Each page draws you in and truly you feel that you are there with Liz and David or is his name Paul??. honestly, I can’t think of a thing I didn’t like about this book. Grab your copy today you will not be disappointed, believe me.”

  --ElaineC, Goodreads review

  Dear Reader,

  Dear Reader,

  Families fascinate me. I start every book I write by investigating the backstory of my central characters. I need to meet their siblings, parents and grandparents. Sometimes, I bump into distant relatives who like to gossip. This “history” helps me understand both my characters and their world. I love this part of the process and am always sorry to type “the end” because it means saying goodbye to the family I’ve come to love. Fortunately, that didn’t happen with Grace because her three sisters will have a chance to tell their stories , too.

  In researching the setting for this series, I made several trips to Las Vegas. Marc and Lisa Wolpert graciously opened their beautiful home to me and showed me around Boulder City, Searchlight and Lake Mead. Bob and Joyce Peterson helped me “discover” Henderson. My cousin Carol Gregory and her husband, Kenny, were my guides to Mesquite. Les and Leona Bagby, my dear uncle and aunt, were all too happy to give me an insider’s view of retirement life in Vegas. Many thanks to all. Also, I need to recognize Jan and Mom for introducing me to Ethel M. and nickel slots, and thank Paul for being my chauffeur on our “working” anniversary trip.

  Wishing you all the best! And Happy Reading!

  Debra

  First Kiss

  "You probably never knew this," she said softly. "But I've always had a thing for firemen."

  Her hair tickled his neck. When he brushed the errant lock aside, he accidentally touched her forehead. Her skin was velvety soft and once he started touching her, he found he couldn't stop.

  His fingertips traveled over her brow, her cheeks and her lips—which turned up. "Are you practicing Braille?"

  "Just exploring the terrain. Would you rather I didn't?"

  She didn't answer right away. "Can I touch, too?"

  The question was low and sexy and made his body respond like a teen on his first date. She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she turned all the way on her side and put her hand flat on his chest.

  Knowing she could probably feel the thudding of his heart made him nearly as embarrassed as he was horny. "Alexa, you're starting something you might not want to finish."

  Alexa stilled, processing his words. Not a question--an out. Even now, with so much baggage between them and a future as shaky as a house built on quicksand, he put her first. And she loved him for it.

  “I should probably admit that I invited you here on false pretenses. Yes, I crave the safety your presence provides, but I want more than snuggling, Mark. I want to escape.”

  She planted a row of kisses along the scratchy growth of his lower jaw. She'd forgotten to tell him about the disposable razors in the drawer. “Enough talk. Unless there’s some other reason why we shouldn't have sex, I have condoms in the drawer, and I had a full range of blood test
s done a few months ago when I was in the hospital. Is there anything health-wise I need to know about?"

  "No. That wasn't what I meant. But given our histories—and your family—are you sure this is a good thing?"

  She pushed herself up to rest her chest against his. Although the room was dark, there was light enough to see his features. “You’re worried. I don’t blame you. I remember when Dad threatened to toss you to my cousins and let them beat you within an inch of you life.”

  “Pure bluster. Kingston wouldn’t have done that, but he had every right to be mad. I’d just told him our wedding was off because I cheated on his daughter.”

  She pushed the memory out of her mind and outlined his lips with her fingertip. "If memory serves me correctly," she said, going for seductive, "this was a very, very good thing when we were together."

  His chuckle stopped when he put his hand behind her head and drew her down for a kiss. A powerful, full-of-heat kiss that blocked almost every thought from her head. Fleetingly she remembered that she wasn't taking birth control pills, but that wasn't really an issue. The pains she'd experienced off and on all day were the type she remembered as premenstrual. Besides, this wasn't the right time of the month to get pregnant.

  "I'll mostly be working from memory," he said, trailing kisses down the open neckline of her pajamas. "I haven't been with a woman in six months or more, but I have the results of a recent AIDS test in my locker at work, if you'd like to see it."

  "Why'd you get tested?"

  “Requirement of the new life-insurance policy I took out after Tracey died. For Braden. In case anything happened to me.”

  That gesture as much as anything made her dizzy with love. "You 're a good man, Mark Gaylord. Now, shut up and make love to me."

  And he did. No questions asked.

  Well, one.

  "Do these pajama bottoms have a drawstring?”

  Chapter 1

  "Itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout."

  Alexandra Parlier—or Miss Alexa, as the sixteen preschool-aged students grouped on the round, sunshine yellow rug called her—hummed the second verse, letting the class fill in the words. The four-year-olds knew the song well and loudly enunciated each phrase for the benefit of their younger classmates, adding a dramatic hand gesture to the word washed.

  "Out came the sun ...hum, hum..

  "Did you forget the words, Auntie Alexa?" her niece, Maya, hissed softly at Alexa's elbow.

  Alexa smiled at the concern she heard in Maya's voice. "No, sweetheart," Alexa whispered, "I was just listening to see who needed help."

  Satisfied with the answer, the child smiled back.

  "And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again." Alexa led the applause. "Who's ready for outside time?"

  "I am, I am." Alexa's sister Liz, who'd volunteered to help that morning, jumped to her feet. Liz, who was just fourteen months younger than Alexa—and extremely busy with her new herbal-tea company, and her recent engagement—hadn't hesitated when Alexa had called in a panic. Shorthanded again.

  Earlier in the year, their sister Grace had tangled with old family friend Charles Harmon, a powerful and deceitful lawyer and casino owner, who had promised revenge on the entire Parlier clan. In Alexa's case, he'd tried to stir up trouble by spreading untrue rumors about some of the people working for her at her Dancing Hippo Day Care and Preschool.

  No charges were ever filed because Alexa always did a thorough background check before taking on new hires at the Hippo. And she’d personally called each parent on her enrollment roster and explained what was happening. To her profound relief, the parents of her students had stood by her, one and all. Unfortunately, two of her part-time aides hadn't appreciated being the targets of slander and had quit. Alexa was still trying to replace them.

  She didn't blame anyone for not wanting to deal with Charles's spite, but she really couldn't afford to be short staffed over the holidays. Stress was not only bad for the kids, it was bad for her health. And she couldn't afford to get sick. Not now.

  "You're a lifesaver, Liz," Alexa said, helping to escort the energetic herd of youngsters toward the back door after the mandatory pause for putting on coats and sweaters. Late November in Las Vegas might be balmy compared to other parts of the country, but lately the wind seemed to hold a bite that went straight to her core.

  "Rita should be back soon. I can't imagine shopping for Christmas on the day after Thanksgiving, but she starts at five and buys all of the gifts for her grandchildren in one morning."

  Rita, a retired kindergarten teacher, was Alexa's most senior aide. Privately, she'd told Alexa that she'd been planning on quitting before the Charles Harmon episode but had delayed the decision because she didn't want to add to Alexa's problems.

  The Dancing Hippo was Alexa's baby. Her life, her sisters would say. Seven and a half years earlier, she'd opened the day-care center partly to stay afloat financially and partly to keep from sinking into an easily justified depression after her fiancé, Mark Gaylord, had broken off their relationship. Alexa would never forget the day he'd admitted to spending the night with his partner, Tracey. Alexa had barely come to grips with his betrayal when she learned that Tracey was pregnant.

  "I didn't mean for this to happen, Alexa," he'd said. "But it did and I have to accept responsibility for my actions."

  Mark. Ever the hero. The love of her life. A man with a troubled past who worked so hard to rise above his difficult childhood. She knew what being a father meant to him. His concern for children had sealed her love for him, and she'd understood why he'd chosen his unborn child over her. What she'd never understood was why he'd risked their future together for a night in the arms of a woman like Tracey, who had a reputation for partying with all the wrong people.

  Alexa shook her head to push the thoughts of Mark away. She would have said she was over him completely if not for the fire the night of her sister Kate's wedding last July. Someone had set fire to Liz 's date's home and greenhouse, and Liz—the sister who had voluntarily provided humanitarian aid in a war zone—had been too shaken up to drive, so their mother, Yetta, had asked Alexa to play chauffeur.

  To Alexa's shock, Mark, who had apparently traded in his cop's badge to become an arson investigator, had been on the scene. Seeing him had resurrected all her old memories and she'd barely made it through a night since without bumping into him in her dreams.

  “Four steps forward and five steps back," she muttered under her breath.

  "Are you talking to yourself again?"

  "Again? When have I ever talked to myself?" she asked Liz, who was smiling that smile--a cross between know-it-all and smug--Alexa hated. Not that Liz was condescending by nature, but at the moment she was on top of the world. She'd just become engaged to a great guy and her specialty blends of herbal teas seemed to be taking off.

  "Alexa, you're the eldest. Every time you were giving orders to Kate, Grace or me, you were talking to yourself."

  Liz's laugh was so infectious Alexa couldn't prevent her own guffaw. "Are you saying I was bossy?'

  "You tried to be. But in all fairness, it's not your fault. Dad called you Alexandra the Great, remember? You had a lot to live up to, and since we were your only subjects, you tried to rule us."

  Alexa stepped in front of three-year-old Madelaine Rose before the child could whack two-year-old Preston Johnson over the head with a plastic shovel. "We are gentle with our friends, Maddie. Treat people the way you'd like to be treated."

  To Liz, she said, "I tried to lead by example, not oligarchy."

  Liz laughed so hard tears came to her pretty brown eyes.

  “You know, Liz, I haven’t seen you this relaxed and happy in years. Maybe ever.”

  “Love will do that do you.”

  A little twinge in her chest made her rub the heel of her hand against her breast bone. “I can’t argue with that. I loved being in love. It was the happiest time of my life.”

  Liz frowned and gave Alexa�
�s free hand a quick squeeze. “You have to put yourself out there, you know. Not everybody can meet the love of their life by running over a cactus their future husband just planted.”

  Alexa rolled her eyes. No one in the family--except maybe Mom--believed Liz’s version of “meet cute,” but Liz swore it was true. “I would have been looking a little harder after Mark left except, at first, I was scrambling not to lose this house.”

  They’d been in escrow when he broke the news. Without Mark’s additional income to secure the loan, she'd been forced to use the money in her trust fund to make the down payment. “Even now I don't have a lot of wiggle room when it comes to budgeting. As you will soon discover, a self-employed small-business owner doesn't make money when he or she has to hire extra help because she--not he--is doubled over in pain once a month from an inflamed ovarian cyst.”

  Liz made a pouty face. “I hate when you’re in pain. Is my tea helping at all?”

  Alexa nodded. “The sleepy time one is great.”

  Liz started to say something but a high-pitched cry made her pivot on her heel and dash toward the swing set, where two children appeared close to coming to blow...or hair pulling.