Free The Marriage Bargain by Jennifer Probst

out like a mantra. “I’m going to get that contract.”
    She blinked, then slowly nodded as if his own belief secured hers. “Can Dreamscape handle such a job?”
    He took a sip of wine. “The board thinks it’s too ambitious, but I’m going to prove them wrong. If I succeed, Dreamscape will rise to the top.”
    “Is it about the money?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t care about the money. I want to make my mark, and I know how I want to approach it. Nothing too citified. Nothing to compete with the mountains, but a structure that bows to nature and blends, rather than fighting back.”
    “It sounds like you’ve thought about this for a long time.”
    He sopped up the last piece of bread in the remaining sauce, then popped it into his mouth. “I knew the city would make this decision soon, and I wanted to be prepared. I’ve been thinking about designs by the river for years. Now I’m ready.”
    “How are you going to get it?”
    Nick concentrated on his plate. Funny, she seemed able to tell when he lied. Had from childhood. “I already have one of the partners on board. Richard Drysell is building the spa, and we share the same vision. He’s having a dinner party next Saturday. The final two men I need to convince will be there, so I’m hoping to make an impression.” He didn’t share how Alexa fit into the mix. He looked upon his new wife as a way close the deal, but it would be better explained the night of the party.
    Nick lifted his head and spotted her cleaned plate.
    The full salad bowl remained on the table between them, untouched. The pasta and bread and wine were depleted. She looked like she was on the verge of exploding. “Well, the salad looks awfully good. Aren’t you going to eat it?”
    She forced a bright smile and forked up a leafy piece. “Of course. I adore salads.”
    He grinned. “Any dessert?”
    She let out a groan. “Funny.” They cleaned up quickly, stacked everything in the dishwasher, and then she stretched out on the camel-colored sofa in the living room. Nick figured she was hoping for a faster way to digest.
    “Are you going to work tonight?” she asked.
    “No, it’s late. What about you?”
    “Nah, too tired.” The room filled with a short silence. “So, what do you want to do?”
    Her shirt snaked up a precious inch. The smooth, tanned skin of her stomach wreaked havoc with his concentration. He had some very clear images of what they could do. They involved slowly lifting her shirt. Then licking her nipples until they tightened under his tongue. The rest centered on stripping off those sweat pants and testing how fast he could make her burn up in his arms. Since none of those options were possible, he gave a shrug. “Don’t know. TV? Movie?”
    She shook her head. “Poker.”
    “Excuse me?”
    Her eyes lit up. “Poker. I have a deck of cards in my suitcase.”
    “You carry your own cards?”
    “You never know when you’ll need them.”
    “What do we play for?”
    She jumped up from the sofa and headed toward the stairs. “Money, of course. Unless you’re too chicken.”
    “Fine. But we’ll use my cards.”
    She stopped mid-flight and looked at him. “Okay. I deal.”
    He hit the remote and strains of Madame Butterfly echoed from the Bose speakers. He topped off their glasses and settled by the coffee table. She sat beside him, legs crossed. Her fingers flew through the cards with the ease of an expert, shuffling with lightning speed. Nick had a flash of her in a low-cut dress, dealing cards in a saloon while she sat on a cowboy’s lap. He shook off the image and concentrated on his hand.
    “Dealer’s choice. Five card stud. Ante up.”
    He frowned. “With what?” he asked.
    “I told you we’re playing for money.”
    “Should I have my butler unlock the safe? Or maybe we’ll just play for the family jewels?”
    “Very funny. Don’t you have any singles lying around?”
    His lip quirked. “Sorry. Only hundreds.”
    “Oh.”
    She