Free Playing the odds by Nora Roberts Page A

accept my offer, you'd probably hear snatches of it anyway. And I'd rather you had it from me all at once." He saw that he had her curiosity now, which was better than her attention.
    "What kind of offer?" she asked warily.
    "A job."
    "A job?" Serena repeated, then laughed. "What do you want to do, set up a floating blackjack game with me as dealer?"
    "I had something a bit more stationary in mind," Justin murmured as his eyes drifted down. "Just how secure are those skinny little strings?"
    "Secure enough." She barely resisted the urge to tug at them. ''Why don't you tell me exactly what you have in mind, Justin… Straight."
    "All right." Abruptly, the humour left his eyes. They were cool again and level on hers. "I've watched you work. You're very good. Not just with the cards, but with people. You're a quick judge of the players, and your table is nearly always full, while some of the others thin out regularly. In addition to that, you know how to handle a player when he's annoyed with the cards or had a bit too much to drink. All in all," he added in the same impersonal tone, "you've got a lot of style."
    Not certain what he was leading up to, and not wanting to be too pleased by his words, Serena moved her shoulders carelessly. "So?"
    "So. I've a use for someone with your talents." His expression didn't change when her eyes narrowed. Justin merely folded his legs under him and watched her, looking, Serena thought, a bit too much like his infamous kidnapping ancestor must have looked.
    Pushing her glasses on top of her head, Serena stared straight back at him. "What sort of use?" she asked coolly.
    "Managing my casino in Atlantic City." He had the satisfaction of seeing incredulity cover her face.
    "You own a casino in Atlantic City?"
    Without seeming to move at all, Justin rested his hands lightly on his knees. "Yes."
    Serena frowned at him through narrowed eyes. He thought, amused, that her trust didn't come as easily this time, then slowly she let out a breath. "Comanche," Serena murmured. "There's one in Vegas, too, and in Tahoe, I think." Leaning back, she closed her eyes. So the itinerant gambler turned out to be a very wealthy, very successful businessman. "I should have known."
    Even more amused by her reaction, Justin relaxed. He'd first thought of offering her a job during the morning in Nassau. Then it had been part whim, part business. Studying her strong, elegant face, he knew it was already more than that, more than it should be. That was something he would deal with—after he'd arranged things.
    "I fired my manager just before I left," Justin went on, not waiting for Serena to open her eyes again. "A bit of trouble with the take."
    She opened them now, her brows arching. "He cheated you?"
    "Tried," Justin corrected her mildly. "No one cheats me."
    "No," Serena agreed. "I'm sure they don't." She drew her knees up so that they would no longer be touching, then wrapped her arms around them. "Why do you want me to work for you?"
    Justin had the uncomfortable feeling she knew it was more than he'd said, even though he himself wasn't certain of all the reasons. He was only sure that he wanted her in his world where he could see… and touch her. "I've told you," he said simply, too cautious to stroke her skin again.
    "If you have three successful hotels—"
    "Five," he corrected her.
    "Five." She gave him a slight nod. "Then I can't imagine you as a man who runs his business on impulse." Or anything else on impulse, she added silently. "You must know that managing a casino like yours is a long way from dealing cards on a cruise liner. You probably have twice the tables we do, and a take that would make our little profit look like bubble-gum money."
    Justin allowed himself a smile. It was true enough. "Of course, if you don't think you can handle it—"
    "I didn't say I couldn't handle it," she retorted, then scowled at him. "You're very clever, aren't you?"
    "Think about it," he suggested, hooking his finger