Free Gambler's Woman by Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

of gambling, who dealt with it on its
own terms and won, would have been almost impossible for either the
gambling establishment or most men, in general, to understand. And if
they did understand, they would have invariably seen her as a threat

But Jordan Kyle had been the exception. Was that why she had found
herself so easily seduced by
him? He had admired her ability. Alyssa closed her eyes, trying to sort
out her memories of the weekend. There had been an incredible
enticement in the knowledge that he had known from the first exactly
what she was doing and had fully appreciated her peculiar "talent" When
his own talent had proved to run along exactly the same lines, she had
been fascinated. Together they were like a pair of mathematical
magicians sharing secrets no one else knew.

Added to the intellectual attraction had been a level of passion
utterly new to her. Never had she known the sheer, raging excitement
she had discovered in the arms of her golden-eyed gambler.

And because of that combination of irresistible lures, Alyssa knew she
wanted to return to Las Vegas the following weekend.

The dinner party on Friday night, however, was important in her other
life, her real life. It was important career-wise because she would be
entertaining her boss and his wife among others, and it was important
socially because she would be seeing friends, maintaining a normal
round of activities for herself.

For what she had found in Las Vegas was an alluring illusion that must
not be allowed to interfere with the reality of her weekday world. If
It did, it would destroy that world. And she had worked so long and so
hard . . .

She sighed, leaning back in the seat and resting her hand protectively
on the zipper bag that contained her winnings from the past few days.
She would have to phone Jordan and explain that she would not be on the
Friday-night flight, after all. But there shouldn't be much problem in
booking a Saturday-morning flight, she reassured herself.

Alyssa was exhausted by the time she located her small compact car at
the L.A. airport and drove home to Ventura. The pleasant town on the
California coast between Los Angeles and Santa Barbara had been home to
her now for the past four years, ever since she had accepted the
position with Yeoman Research. She had been lucky enough to find a
beach-front house to rent Her present salary was high enough now to
allow her to afford the luxury.

Someday that salary would be high enough to allow her to buy the red
Porsche, too, she reminded herself wryly as she parked the compact in
the garage and slowly climbed out If she got that promotion, for
example, she might be able to make the down payment But it had proved
more interesting to acquire the Porsche with gambling winnings.

The automatic garage door mechanism hissed the door shut behind her as
she let herself into the small, neat house through the kitchen
entrance. The cottage faced the sea, and on clear days one could see
the Channel Islands just off shore.

She had taken full advantage of the view, orienting the furniture
around it The beach-front atmosphere had been maintained with a color
scheme of white and yellow and natural woods. Luxuriantly green
plants cascaded from ceiling hangers and filled every available corner.
Blinds with elegantly thin slats could be rolled down to protect the
interior from summer-afternoon heat

Tired and knowing she had a busy day ahead of her in the morning,
Alyssa automatically checked locks and lights and then made her way
into the bedroom. Tomorrow she would take her money down to the bank,
and tomorrow evening she would call the hotel in Las Vegas and explain
to Jordan why she would be a day late arriving.

Her own ready acceptance of the affair into which she had plunged so
heedlessly still left her feeling strangely out of tune with herself.
But as she crawled into bed that night, Alyssa knew she had every
intention of being on the Saturday-morning plane to Vegas. The lure