Seducing His Secret Wife - Robin Covington


Las Vegas, Nevada

There wasn’t much in the world that could lure Justin Ling away from a poker table.

He loved the game. The strategy and the psychology and the emotion evoked with every hand that was dealt. It didn’t hurt that he’d won far more than he’d ever lost. But he didn’t need the money; he was a billionaire from the success of his company, Redhawk/Ling, so winning was a lucrative but empty victory. The upside was that he’d won enough to score invites to some of the largest private games and several of the popular public tournaments. Justin loved the game and when he earmarked weekends to devote to it there was almost nothing that was going to distract him from the cards in his hand.

That’s why he couldn’t explain why he was sitting down next to the sexy raven-haired beauty at the bar.

She was tall, slim and the kind of sexy that came from a confidence that ran deeper than the superficial trappings of a pair of high heels and makeup. This woman was the kind who made you work for it.

On a break from his current game, he’d seen her walk past the private rooms and head toward the lobby of the casino. And she’d seen him, too. It was a lightning strike of a moment when their eyes locked for several seconds, and the recognition of a reciprocal spark of sexual hunger was enough to find him cashing out and following her into this sad little bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He wasted no time getting to the point. Justin always went for what he wanted and this woman had captivated him.

She glanced over at him, giving him a thorough perusal from his toes to his four-hundred-dollar haircut. Her gaze lingered on his face and he thought he saw another flicker of interest in her espresso-colored eyes, but her expression gave nothing away before she turned to watch the football game on the TV at the back of the bar.

“I can buy my own drink.” She picked up one of the three shots in front of her and downed it in one quick swallow.

“I’m sure you can,” he answered, mirroring her position on his bar stool with his eyes mostly on the game. He eyed her in his peripheral vision, noting the way she tensed but also noting that she didn’t make a move to leave or to tell him to get lost. It gave him encouragement. “In fact, I think you should buy me a drink.”

A few beats of time passed, ratcheting his heart rate up a notch or two when the silence stretched out a little longer than comfortable. He wondered if he’d miscalculated the edge of challenge he’d glimpsed in the way she walked, the strength he’d seen flash in her eyes. If he’d been a betting man, and he was, he’d have all his money on her taking the bait.

And then she laughed.

It wasn’t a giggle or a belly laugh. Her lips curved in a sexy twist and the low, husky rumble in her chest made him immediately think of Kathleen Turner, the finest aged whiskey, and secrets whispered in the dark and lost in the folds of tumbled sheets. He turned to face her, unable to resist the need to see her, to witness how the light played across her features and the glossy strands of her hair.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, feigning offense as he joined her in chuckling. “I could be offering to use my last twenty to buy you a beverage.”

She snorted then and threw in an eye roll for good measure before reaching out and tapping his watch. “This is a Rolex Cosmograph Daytona 40mm. You can afford to buy this bar, so I’m not worried about cleaning out your bank account with an on-tap special.”

Damn. His mystery lady had taken the bait, but the only one on the hook was him.

“How do you know so much about watches? Are you a jeweler?” Justin leaned on the bar to move in a little close and didn’t even try to keep the impressed tone out of his voice.

She waved a hand in dismissal. “Paul Newman had one just like that and he wore it when he raced cars. I don’t know jack about watches but I know cars.”

Okay. This woman just got better and better and he had no choice but to keep wading into the deep end even though it looked like she wasn’t going to