We grabbed a bite. Dex introduced me to most of the wedding party, particularly the engaged bridesmaids. He bragged about my skills.

  We played roulette until we were ahead.

  Dex insisted on moving on. "Always know when to quit while you're ahead."

  "Know when to hold them. Know when to fold them," I replied.

  "That's poker. But you get the idea."

  We drank some more. We played craps. I blew on his dice. I blew in his ear. I sucked on his earlobe. I cupped his butt. And blew on his dice some more.

  He kissed my neck. Brushed my breasts. Stroked my cheek. And put his hand in the small of my back, sliding it onto my butt and holding on firmly when he thought people were looking.

  The dice were hot. We were hot for each other. We cleaned up at the craps table.

  "Justin has been cleaning up at blackjack long enough. The dealers are going to be on to him soon. Time to make our move." Dex counted our Crisadam cash. "We're halfway there. It's blackjack, then poker." He squeezed my hand.

  "Do we have enough for the scotch?" I ran my finger beneath his chin. "Quit while we're ahead?"

  He pulled me tight against him. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You need jewels, baby."

  "You're going to make me Diamond Shel, is that it?"

  "I like the sound of that." He took my hand and led me to the blackjack tables.

  My heart fluttered. All evening I'd been anxious about blackjack and poker. I worried that they would be the trigger that brought his memory back. That seemed crazy. The doctor said those memories were gone. But I was still nervous. I didn't want anything to ruin the evening.

  When we got to the blackjack table, Justin gave up his space to Dex.

  "How much did you win?" Dex asked him quietly.

  Justin tried to tuck a wad of cash in Dex's hand. "Fifty grand."

  "Keep it. I'll catch up with you if I need it," Dex said.

  "Trying to horde the scotch all to yourself?" Justin asked.

  "No way. It's more fun to share with friends. Go buy your wife and kids some rubber duckies, hotshot."

  "We're counting on you." Justin winked at him and slapped him on the back.

  "He's the current champ," the dealer said about Justin.

  Dex shrugged. "We'll see how long that lasts." He pulled me onto his lap and kissed me. "You were hot for me at the craps table." That was true. "Be my lucky charm."

  "There's nothing to blow on here," I whispered back. "Not in public."

  "You can blow in my ear."

  "I thought you said blackjack is a game of skill?"

  "It's a game of nerve. It helps if Lady Luck favors you.

  "All right, then." I blew in his ear. "To a good hand."

  Chapter 22

  Shelby (Card-counter watcher, flirty drunk.)

  I knew Dex counted cards. Even knowing, I couldn't catch him at it. Nor could I keep up. But it was fun watching him play. And being his luck. Turned out his lap was a hot place to be.

  He quickly amassed well over a hundred thousand in play money, nearly cleaning the table out of money. The dealer grew suspicious and watched him closely.

  Dex finally shrugged. "Time to give others a turn. I hear a poker game calling my name. And a diamond bracelet has your name on it."

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the prize booth.

  "Do we have enough?" I whispered. "Don't we need to count it?"

  "I've been counting it."

  "As you played?" I was amazed.

  He nodded.

  "You were counting cards and cash? At the same time?"

  "I multitask well."

  When we reached the prizes, Dex tossed his cash on the table with panache. "Diamonds for the lady." He pointed to the tennis bracelet. "And a bottle of Brora for me."

  "You'd better leave yourself some cash to play with at the poker table," I whispered to him.

  "I have plenty."

  The dealer managing the prize table counted out Dex's cash and handed over our goods. Dex had handed him the exact amount. I wasn't sure, but Dex may have slipped him a tip in real cash, too.

  "It doesn't matter now. I got what I wanted." Dex took the bracelet out of the box. "Give me your wrist." He latched the bracelet on.

  "This is more glittery than glitter." I moved my arm so that the diamonds sparkled in the lights. "I can't believe this. I never thought I'd own such an expensive piece of jewelry." I choked up.

  On impulse, I grabbed him and kissed him. I was so incredibly happy. "I hope you won't forget this in the morning and how happy you made me. I don't want you accusing someone of robbing you when you were thinking of me—"

  I stopped short.

  He cocked his head, frowning.

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. What had I done? I'd almost given myself away. If only I could stuff the words back in.

  I swallowed hard and kissed him again to cover my almost-relationship-fatal blunder.

  When I finally released him, he looked stunned by the force of my passion. I didn't think he realized it was desperation.

  "You know? Like in Vegas?" I ran off at the mouth, still trying to cover. "The missing twenty-five hundred Justin claims you bought a round or something with?"

  Dex caught my face in his hands. "Justin was shitfaced, too. He borrowed the cash and lost it at the tables, for all I know. I just don't want to accuse him of it. It's better for our friendship if I claim someone else stole it. Neither of us really remember what happened."

  My chest heaved. My heart raced. I was too buzzed to be sensible and keep my mouth shut. I couldn't trust myself now. Alcohol always loosened my inhibitions. I bit my lip.

  Dex stared into my eyes, looking again like he was trying to place me from somewhere else. "I don't remember the shower he claims to have given me. For all I know, he made that up, too."

  "I could give you a shower you'd remember." As I stroked his cheek, the diamonds on my wrist caught the light.

  He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm.

  Paige strolled up to the table just then clutching a wad of bills. She eyed the empty spot on the table where the little blue box had been and paled. Her gaze went to the sparkle on my wrist. Her color returned in a hurry. From pale to angry red in seconds. "You got my bracelet?"

  "Yours?" I reflexively put my hand over my bracelet to protect it from her. She looked like she wanted to rip it right off me. Or tear me limb from limb. Her intention was a toss up, really.

  "Who do you think helped Chrissy pick it out? I've had my eye on it since Daddy bought it for tonight." She pointed at Dex with a shaky finger. "This is your doing. There's no way Plus-One has the skills to win it."

  Dex pulled out his remaining wad of bills and tossed them on the table. "Get yourself something nice, Paige. On me."

  I thought for a moment she might throw the cash back in his face. Instead, her face lit up. "Thanks, Dex. That should be enough to get the earrings I want. It was really a toss-up which I wanted more. They're worth just as much." She shot me a triumphant look. But I was really on her crap list now.

  "Enjoy. Night, Paige." Dex pulled me away from the table.

  "That's all your poker money," I said. "You're done now."

  "It was worth it to calm Paige down."

  "You think you just saved me from another glitter bombing?" I held tight to his hand, wondering what else she'd booby-trapped.

  He turned and faced me. "No. I think I just saved you from something worse. I just don't know what it is."

  "My hero." I leaned into him and lifted my face for a kiss.

  He was so quick to respond that he took my breath away. I'd stopped acting long ago. His kiss. This night. They were fantasies I'd remember my whole life.

  "Call it a night?" he whispered when we finally broke the kiss.

  Shelby

  It might have been my imagination, but his fingers looked like they were shaking as he unlocked our door and let me into our room.

  I had been holding tightly to him, for balance as well as pleasure. I swayed when he let go, nearly stumbling over.

  He caught me by the arm. "Too many Crisadam cocktails?"

  "What's too many? They went straight to my head." But I didn't care. I felt free. I was happy. I'd never had a better time with a guy. And not just because of the bracelet. That was really the least of it.

  I kicked off my shoes and watched to see whether Dex went back to fake boyfriend mode. I took a seat in one of the two chairs.

  He kicked off his shoes, too, and set his bottle of scotch on the end table.

  "Is it clichéd if I say I had a really great time tonight?" I said.

  "You enjoy being a fake girlfriend?" His expression was intense.

  I couldn't tell what the right answer was. "I enjoyed being with you. You have cool friends."

  He laughed and fell into the other chair. "Yeah. I'm lucky."

  "You know how to spoil a girl, too." I wiggled my wrist, shaking the bracelet.

  "I like to throw my play money around. That's true. I always have. You can ask Lala. We used to play store as kids. I was always a big spender." He fell silent and stared into his lap. His Adam's apple bobbed.

  I got the feeling he was at a loss.

  Housekeeping had been in and turned down the bed. The gas fireplace was on, the flames lapping and licking, filling the room with heat and a warm golden glow. A heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in pink foil sat on each pillow, surrounded by a sprinkling of rose petals. A candle was lit on the nightstand. A wedding candle. The room smelled like a bridal suite, full of flowers and the promise of sex.

  Someone expected some romance to happen in here tonight. I wasn't sure whether Dex had specially ordered this or it was standard guest issue.

  "Shelby—"

  I pointed to the bed.

  "Not my doing," he said as if reading my mind.

  "Oh." Why were we suddenly so awkward? "We still need to take care of that."

  His face became a mask. "Yeah. I'll sleep on the floor—"

  He was so gentlemanly and sweet. A little too gentlemanly…

  "That's not what I mean." I stood and grabbed his hand. "I promised you I could make that bed rock. We have our reputation, your reputation, to uphold, and a headboard to bang."

  His eyes became round and dark. "You mean fake sex?"

  "What else?" I pulled him to the bed and pushed him down on his back.

  "One thump? That's it?" His eyes sparkled.

  "One thump?" I rolled my eyes. "Just shut up and let me show you how it's done." I sat on the edge of the bed. "First, I need your help. This dress is too confining for this kind of action. Get the zipper?" I turned my back to him and held my hair up.

  I swore his hand trembled as the zipper slid down. It was adorable the way he tried not to touch my bare skin. He was upholding his fake boyfriendness to the end. But when he accidentally skimmed my skin, his hands were hot and my body reacted to his touch.

  I stood and shimmied out of my tight dress while he watched. I let the dress fall to the floor and stood before him in my honeymoon lingerie—a teeny, tiny thong bikini and a pair of chicken cutlets. Yes, I still called my silicone bra stick-ons by their college name.

  "The key to faking it convincingly is to make it as real as possible."

  He met my eye, but his gaze kept going back to my breasts and thong. He leaned up on his elbows.

  I slid onto the bed and straddled him. "Are you going to join me?"

  "Join you?" His voice was husky.

  "In the realism before the faking?" I peeled off my left chicken cutlet and stuck it on the nightstand. "We can't play strip poker. I didn't get my poker lesson. But nothing says we can't strip. Sit up."

  His gaze kept bouncing to my one budded nipple as he complied with my demand. I took his hand and put it on my remaining cutlet. "Go ahead. Peel it off."

  "It—"

  I put a finger to his lips. Kayla was right. He really wasn't experienced.

  "It won't hurt." I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. "Go ahead."

  I threw my head back as he peeled the cutlet off, letting my hair fall down my back, pushing my breasts into his face.

  Desire was written all over his expression. My nipple enticed him. He was staring at it and practically licking his lips. Though that might have been nerves. If he wasn't such a nice guy, and inexperienced, he would have helped himself to what I was offering.

  I was going to have to help him along.

  I laughed and looked him in the eye. "See? Set the cutlet on the nightstand."

  "Are you always this bossy?"

  My breast was still in his face. "During fake sex? When I want to be."

  He had to lean back and around me to set the cutlet on the nightstand, balanced on one elbow.

  "Your shirt. Off." I pointed and flicked my finger upward.

  He had to sit up to do it. I helped with the hem, letting my hands skim him as I slid the shirt up his body. When the shirt came off, our eyes met.

  I still couldn't get over his unusual blue-violet eyes. Practically ghost eyes, but anything but cold. They were filled with desire and intelligence.

  He balled up his shirt and tossed it aside. He was toned and in shape, with washboard abs and finely honed biceps and chest.

  I ran a finger from his bellybutton up between his budded nipples. "That Stryker guy really has been kicking your butt."

  Dex's gaze ran over my naked torso. "Who's been kicking yours?"

  I took his hand and placed it on my breast. "I'm disciplined. I have an online exercise subscription."

  "Really?"

  "I work out alone. Go ahead and squeeze my nipple."

  He grinned.

  "Mmm. Harder." I bent down and bit his shoulder, ending with a kiss and a quick swirl of my tongue as I unfastened his pants. "Will you be more comfortable without these? There's going to be a lot of action involved. Just like in the real thing."

  "Yeah. They're constricting. I don't want anything impeding my motion." He slid his pants down, balancing me on his lap.

  I clasped my legs around him and rode him as he pulled the pants off and kicked them to the floor. "Lean back." I gave him a gentle shove back onto the pillows and petals.

  One of the chocolates bounced and hit him on the cheek. He swore and tossed it away. It hit the wall.

  "Nice try," I said in his ear. "But that wimpy chocolate hitting the wall isn't going to fool anybody."

  "I'll have to try harder." He pushed up against me.

  He was hard enough.

  I was still straddling him. "We'll start gently. I'll show you the motion. Just in case, you know, you've never faked it." I slowly undulated on him, simulating sex as I rubbed against his hard dick, thoroughly enjoying myself.

  There was a certain erotic pleasure in having a bit of clothes between us. For a time.

  I braced my hands against his chest, already wet and ready for him, but pacing myself. "That's good. Now a little faster. A nice, slow build."

  "Like this?" He rocked against me.

  "For someone who's not used to faking it, you're a quick study." I kept the rhythm going as I leaned down and got eye to eye, nose to nose with him. "Harder. Faster. That headboard isn't going to bang itself."

  He caught my face and kissed me. It caught me by surprise. His tongue went deep, insistent, demanding.

  I seized my opportunity and pulled his dick out of his briefs. I stroked him, hard, two or three times—not that he needed it, but I enjoyed it. I slid onto him around my thong.

  He kissed me deeper. I rode him, fast and hard. He grabbed my hips and arched up into me.

  "Harder." I closed my eyes and threw my head back. "Oh. Yes."

  "Faster?"

  "Not too fast. Yet." I led, riding him at my pace, enjoying the slow build, not wanting it to go to quickly, but fully aware that he was trying hard to hang on.

  He drove deep, thrusting upward again and again.

  "Harder." My breath caught.

  "Damn it." He grabbed me and flipped me over. The next thing I knew, I was on my back. He drove into me, pressing me tightly against him, thrusting again and again until the headboard finally started banging.

  He wasn't going to last long. But neither was I. I moaned. And gasped.

  He grunted and held on to me, driving deep, deeper, whispering my name.

  "Oh. Oh." I rode the crest of pleasure, trembling all the way to the core of my very being.

  He rested his head against mine, holding his weight off me as he held me close, swearing beneath his breath. He looked me in the eye with those ghost eyes. "The headboard wasn't banging with you on top, Shelby. Not that I wasn't enjoying it. That damn thing is remarkably solid. I made a calculation—"

  "Not a problem. I like it on top. I like it on bottom. That was an impressively authentic fake." I caressed his cheek and traced his shoulder.

  He brushed my hair out of my face. "You're lying on a chocolate heart."

  I turned my head. A chocolate rolled against my face. I grabbed it. "And they call this romantic." I held the heart up. "Yours or mine?"

  "Mine, Shelby."

  "That means you threw mine against the wall, you heartless bastard."

  He grabbed my wrist, still sparkling with diamonds. "It means you're holding my heart in your hands. Just to be clear, I'd never break your heart, Shelby. Never."

  He smelled like whisky and was high on after-sex glow. We'd both drunk too much. I'd have been a fool to believe him. Or even think he'd remember what he'd said in the morning.

  "This calls for some after-fake-sex chocolate." I unwrapped it and took a bite, teasing like I was going to eat it all myself. "Don't give me that puppy-dog look like Bella." I rolled my eyes and held the rest up for him.

  He opened his mouth. I slipped it in.

  "Shelby," he said through his half a chocolate heart. "I—"

  Whatever he wanted to say, I wasn't ready to hear it. I pressed a finger to his lips. I was content and pleasantly relaxed. I didn't want anything else right now. "Let's slip beneath the covers. I think it's safe to say you can sleep in the bed with me tonight."

  He pulled the covers up and pulled me close against him.