The Daddy Gamble
The Daddy Gamble
Betting On Love, Book 2
Debra Salonen
Copyright © 2018 by Debra Salonen
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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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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
Betting On Love #3: Liz’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.
And to the memory of a sweet little boy who never got the chance to be the man we all knew he would be: Kyle Channing Gray. Accidental drowning is preventable.
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 with the intention of making their weddings the stuff of legend.
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.
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
heat of Debra Salonen....”
—Linda Mowery, www.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
Dear Reader
Dear Reader,
“Prophecies? What prophecies?”
That was my response when my editor asked, “We know Grace’s prophecy—‘You’ll marry a prince, but you’ll have to save him first.’ What’s Kate’s?” Grace Parlier, the heroine of PRINCE CHARMING UNDERCOVER, is the youngest of four sisters. The family’s Romani, or Gypsy, background added an intriguing dimension to my heroines’ lives and their relationships. All four acknowledged their mother’s ability to see into the future. If Grace had a prophecy, wouldn’t Kate, Liz and Alex, as well?
Umm…of course. But what happens if Kate hates her prophecy and does her best to ignore it?
Kate is like a lot of young women I know. She isn’t afraid to lean on her family for help, but is wary of reaching out to a stranger. Especially a man who is too young, too cute and too single. She can’t picture anyone wanting to take on the burdens she bears, but she doesn’t know Rob Brighten.
There’s a scene in this book that involves teaching children how to swim. Having lived through an accidental drowning in my family, I feel especially passionate about this topic. In April, May and June of this year, I’m giving away a book and CD as part of my Web site contest. The book is called Stewie the Duck Learns to Swim, a Child’s First Guide to Water Safety. If you’re around young children and water, please visit www.debrasalonen.com to find a link to the Stewie the Duck site. In no time at all you, too, will be humming, “Don’t jump in till you learn to swim….”
I hope you’ll look for Liz’s and Alexa’s books which follow. Talk about fateful prophecies!
Have a safe and wonderful summer!
Debra
First Kiss
The Daddy Gamble First Kiss © Loner Llama Press
Kate gulped in a breath of fresh air then pushed to her feet, arching her back slightly. “I’ll get them.”
“No. You deserve a break. Point me in the right direction, Mom. I can handle this.”
“Absolutely not,” Kate countered, blocking his return to the kitchen. “You need to get back to the party. Don’t you have toasts to make or something? Besides, you’re a guest. You should be eating.”
“Children, stop bickering. Somebody rescue my parfaits.”
They looked at each other. “She’s feeling better.”
“The aspirin must have helped.”
Jo’s low growl and threatened attempt to stand sent them both hurrying indoors. “The walk-in is over here. I think there’s only one tray. The party planner wanted a vegan option for people who don’t eat cake.”
Rob followed her, his senses on high alert. He’d never in his life experienced such a powerful, exciting rush of emotions as he had working in Kate’s kitchen. Even waiting for a verdict was low-key compared to the orchestrated flurry of food preparation. The combined energy of her assistants and various helpers along with the servers coming and going and his mother shouting orders should have spelled chaos, but he’d never felt that things were out of control. Because of Kate, who was both commander-in-chief of her kitchen and a sexy, powerful woman.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her.
And they were alone for the first time all night.
He opened the freezer door for her. The chill, so inviting after the heat of the kitchen, enticed him to step inside even though this put him in close proximity to Kate. Encircled by chrome shelves, he pivoted to take it all in.
“I’m still not completely restocked,” she said, apparently noticing his interest. “We lost a lot of inventory because of the E. coli fiasco. You don’t make that up overnight.” Her tone was resigned. “Oh, there’s the tray your mom made.”
She rose up on her toes to reach for the shallow pan, which was resting on an upper shelf just beyon
d Rob. On impulse, he intercepted her hand and drew it between them. She tensed, but allowed him to turn it palm-up. His thumb skimmed over calloused ridges that made her skin feel different from any other woman he’d dated. Hers were not pretty fingers with long, sculpted nails.
He felt an odd pang deep in his chest. He didn’t know why or what it meant.
Kate yanked her hand away and hid it behind her back. “What are you doing?”
“Something I shouldn’t,” he admitted before he took a step closer.
Her chin rose and her eyes narrowed—a warning, if ever he’d seen one. But he had to do what he’d wanted to all night. And while Kate might deny it later, Rob knew she felt the sizzle between them, too.
“Rob. This isn’t—”
He pressed his lips to hers, stopping her protest. Not the most chivalrous thing to do, but when she melted against him a heartbeat later, he stopped thinking. His right hand moved behind her back to pull her closer. His left brushed against her neck, expecting to find the mass of curls that fascinated him, but her hair was braided and pinned—unreachable.
She made a little moan—that Rob realized a second later was the sound of regret. “No. Stop. Bad idea.” She pushed him away.
Rob stepped back and took in a deep breath of icy air. The sharpness didn’t jibe with the heat that still surged through ninety percent of his body. But as his rational mind kicked in, he admitted to himself that she was right. This was madness.
Chapter 1
“You’re fired.”
Kate Parlier-Grant’s cheeks burned as she glanced around the empty parking lot. “Nope. No way. Too cliché.” There’s got to be a better way of telling Rob Brighten that he isn’t my lawyer anymore.
She paced a few steps from her car, making a point of staying inside the line of shade cast by the building. The morning air gave little hint of the heat to come, but this was Vegas, after all. And summer was coming.
“How ‘bout...Rob, I appreciate everything you’ve done for our family, but your services are no longer needed.” She paused to picture the look on Rob’s lean, handsome face when she said the words to him.
“He’d probably laugh.”Rob had met her family—and had defended several members, in the past couple of months. If anyone needed an attorney on retainer, it was the Parlier clan.
She clamped her hands to her hips. “Rob, this isn’t working out.”
A shudder passed through her. “Ack. Too relationship-ish.
The fact was she liked Rob. And she appreciated everything he’d done for her family, but this was about Maya. And Kate couldn’t take any chances where her daughter’s future was concerned.
She walked back to her ten-year-old Subaru wagon and turned around to face Romantique, the restaurant she owned with her sister, Grace. Sighing, she rested her butt on the faded silver fender. The wind—a constant in Las Vegas—whipped her hair about her face.
She parted the curly mop with her fingers and pushed as much of it as she could behind her ears. She’d left the house in such a hurry she’d forgotten her visor and sunglasses. The bright morning sun was already giving her a headache, but as soon as she’d resolved this matter with Rob, she’d escape into Romantique.
March had been a lion of a month for Kate and her family. Four long weeks of stress. First, they’d found out Nikolai Sarna, houseguest and distant relative, wasn’t an out-of-work ex-con at all. He was really a cop investigating Charles Harmon, the man Grace had planned to go into business with. Then Grace managed to get shot, and Charles, who’d been arrested for insurance fraud and a bunch of other charges, had directed his fury at the Parlier family. Using his many connections, he’d created havoc, including the E. coli firestorm that had closed Romantique.
But that had only been part of Kate’s ordeal. Ian Grant, her ex-husband, had somehow managed to convince the State of Nevada parole board that he was fully rehabilitated and should be released early after serving just two years of his six-year sentence for embezzlement. She’d hired Rob to argue against parole at the hearing, but apparently her fear that Ian might take their daughter and disappear—as only a Gypsy can—didn’t impress them.
Ian was being released soon. And he wanted shared custody. Rob had failed her.
He was a nice guy but new to the area—and young. He’d handled her family’s legal troubles with finesse but hadn’t been able to block Ian’s bid for freedom. Why? Was it because he didn’t believe her when she told him Ian was a threat? Or was he not that interested in child custody cases? He hadn’t even handled the case himself.
Maybe Maya is right. Although only four and a half, her daughter was quite astute when it came to reading people. “He doesn’t like kids,” she’d told Kate not long after being introduced to Rob.
Kate hadn’t given the charge much credence because, at that point, price and expediency had been her main criteria for picking a lawyer. Besides, Maya usually managed to find something wrong with every man of dating age that her mother came into contact with. Kate knew why. Maya’s most cherished dream was having a mommy and daddy who lived together. “Like a real family,” as Maya put it.
Which was never going to happen.
Ian had turned to be a charming con man who couldn’t be trusted. Period. And Kate would do whatever it took to make sure her ex didn’t have easy access to his daughter. Even if that meant firing her current lawyer and going into debt to hire the toughest family attorney in Las Vegas.
Pushing off from the car, she resumed her pacing. She’d called Rob’s cell phone on her way to work, thinking she might be able to handle the matter on the phone—or even better, leave a message. But he’d answered on the second ring and had immediately offered to stop by the restaurant, as if the detour weren’t miles out of the way.
She walked to the back door of the building. She loved this place almost as much as she loved her daughter. She’d poured her heart and soul into the restaurant after her marriage failed.
The burnt sienna stucco walls and dark green canvas canopies, which required replacing twice a year thanks to the beating they took from the Las Vegas sun, had been her idea. “I want to create a Tuscan flavor,” she’d told Grace.
Her fingers closed around the greasy yellow caution tape and ripped it away. Her anger simmered at the undeserved, malicious charge. The blow to Romantique’s reputation had been disastrous, perhaps even fatal. They wouldn’t know until they reopened. If they reopened.
With Grace out of the picture—and Kate distracted by the threat Ian posed, Romantique’s future looked shaky at best.
The distinctive sound of a sports car engine intruded into her thoughts. Seconds later, a sleek silver status symbol pulled into the parking lot her restaurant shared with an upscale strip mall in northwest Las Vegas.
Her heart rate sped up a notch. Because of what I have to do, not because of Rob’s presence. Her mind didn’t buy that for a minute.
Robert James Brighten.
Rob.
If she were honest, she’d admit that part of the reason she needed to let him go was the disturbing attraction she felt toward him. Which was crazy. Not that he wasn’t damn appealing, but the timing couldn’t have been worse—even if he weren’t all wrong for her. Single. Never been married. Childless. Four years her junior. Not to mention, the son of her friend and right hand in the kitchen, Jo Garnett.
Thank goodness he’s never shown any indication that he’s attracted to me, she thought, bracing herself for what she had to do.
The Lexus purred to a stop. Kate waited on the sidewalk as the driver’s side door opened. Rob unfolded his long legs and rose with the amazing fluidity of the young and fit. Once standing, he leaned over to retrieve something and her gaze zeroed in on his derriere. Elegantly sculpted in a tailored pinstripe suit. She tried not to ogle, but a person who had been without sex for as long as she had been could only muster so much willpower.
As usual, he was dressed conservatively. “His ex-fiancée brainwashed him into believing
that dull and boring made him look older and more lawyer-like,” his mother had complained one time. Jo’s antipathy for the woman her only son had planned to marry had been obvious.
Kate couldn’t help smiling when he turned to face her. A pale plum shirt rested beneath a red-and-silver tie. Maybe his ex-fiancée’s influence was wearing off.
“’Morning, Kate,” he hailed. “I’m glad you caught me before I got to the office—or should I say the Black Hole?”
The wind attacked his thick brown hair, which was long enough to graze his collar. She recalled thinking the first time she met Rob, when Jo had brought him to Romantique for lunch, that he possessed a hint of renegade under the guise of his staid suit. A touch of Gypsy, she’d privately called it.
After Ian, who was Romani, Kate had vowed that if she ever got involved with another man, he wouldn’t carry a drop of Rom blood in his veins. Rob fit that criterion. Too bad he was wrong for her in every other way.
“Thanks for coming. We need to talk.”
He nodded, pausing to toss his expensive-looking sunglasses on the seat of his car before he locked the door. “You heard about the parole hearing, I take it.”
He stepped closer, squinting against the bright light. His eye color had intrigued her from the first. An odd combination of gold and green that reminded her of a desert shrub she couldn’t name.