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steps beside him and then seemed to recover nicely. Just as they approached the entrance to the restaurant, her heel turned beneath her and she threw herself onto the maître d’ stand.
    “Whoa there,” she said with an uncertain laugh. In one quick motion, she righted herself and plucked off her shoes. “Much better,” she said, wiggling her toes into the plush and wildly colored casino carpeting.
    “What are you doing? You can’t just walk through here barefoot.” Nate frowned.
    Annie laughed, walking on and answering casually over her shoulder. “I know the owner. He won’t mind.”
    Nate was quick to follow. “I mean it isn’t safe. You could step on something. Drunks break glasses in here all the time. We try to get it all up, but you never know. Besides, the floor could be filthy.”
    “You are an old ninny, Nathan.” Annie turned to him and planted her hands on her hips. Her heels dangled helplessly at her side as she wrinkled her nose and actually stuck out her tongue at him.
    He could barely trust his eyes. No one on the poker circuit would believe this story if he told it later. The Barracuda, drunk and acting like a fool, albeit a beautiful one. It was unheard of. Unprecedented. And hysterical.
    The bubble of laughter rose up in his throat. He couldn’t contain it. The pent-up frustration and disappointment and confusion of the last three years all pooled together at once and exploded out of him in a roar of laughter. His whole body shook with the power of it. Nate actually bowed over, his hands braced on his knees as he chuckled until tears started gathering in the corners of his eyes.
    He looked up to see the laughter had doubled Annie’s irritation. Her expression only made it harder for him to breathe. Nate stood up, attempting to calm himself and wiping his face with the back of his hand. It was incredibly therapeutic—more so than the glasses of scotch or hours angrily lifting weights in the hotel gym.
    “That’s it, I’m leaving!” she announced, turning and marching away from the restricted area, shoes in hand.
    “Annie, come back here.” Nate jogged after her, reaching out to grasp her wrist and jerk her to a stop.
    “Let go of me,” she whined, her anger doused by the champagne and reducing her to childish behavior.
    Nate tightened his grip. “I will not. You’re going the wrong way. The elevator upstairs is over there.” He pointed.
    Annie looked around her, confused, and then recognized her mistake. She started walking in the correct direction but was once again tugged to a stop by Nate. “Would you please let go of me?” she asked, exasperated.
    Nate shook his head. “Not until you put your shoes back on.”
    “Are you going to make me?” Annie taunted, tugging away again.
    That was the wrong thing to say. Nate couldn’t take any more of this. If she wanted to make a scene in his casino, so be it, but he wouldn’t be the one everyone whispered about tomorrow. In one quick motion, he bent and scooped Annie up, tossing her over his shoulder like a kicking, screaming sack of potatoes.
    “What the...?” she cried in surprise, but it was already too late.
    Nate marched through the casino, his arms tightly gripping her legs to his chest to keep her from kicking him. Her free fists were already pounding at his back, but that was easy to ignore.
    “Put me down, Nathan Reed! Put me down this instant,” Annie wailed.
    Nate chuckled and disregarded her, walking through the casino as though it were his dry cleaning over his shoulder instead of his wife. Eyes were glued to him from every side, but he didn’t care. He nodded politely to the staff as he passed, just as he did every day.
    “Nathan!” she howled.
    “You’re only drawing more attention to yourself by yelling, Annie.”
    The squirming mass on his shoulder quieted at once, although she still attempted a kick every few feet for good measure. Nate looked up at one of the domed ceiling cameras. He had no doubt that