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“You don’t look like you’re having any problems with Lady Luck to me.” Lady Luck probably fell for that killer grin just like every other woman he met. She couldn’t be thinking about that now, though. She had to strike up a relationship with Rennie—and fast. If she let him walk away, she gave up her link to Jerry.
    â€œCan I get you something to drink?” A waitress stood at Gwen’s elbow, tray in hand.
    What to choose, Gwen wondered. She’d prefer white wine, but that didn’t really fit with her profile. A martini, maybe? Or… “A cosmopolitan, please.” At the expectant look of the dealer, Gwen pushed out two five-dollar chips. Her natural leaning was to bet a dollar at a time. Nina, though, wouldn’t do anything by halves. Nina would take chances.
    With brisk efficiency the dealer laid the cards out. Gwen worked to concentrate. It wouldn’t do her any good to have found Rennie if she wound up broke and leaving the table in fifteen minutes. And she wasn’t about to put up another hundred. She’d already dipped into her savings account to finance the trip; she was going to make it last.
    Her hand held an ace and a two, for a soft thirteen. The dealer had a seven showing and Rennie had a four. He took a sip of his whiskey and tapped his cards to indicate a hit. Gwen couldn’t tell if the three he got satisfied him or not, but he didn’t bust. He took a sip of whiskey and glanced over at her with interest. “Waitin’ on you, darlin’.”
    Gwen tapped her cards, embarrassed to have been caught watching him. The seven she drew made her forget all about it, though. The dealer drew a nine and flipped over her hole card to show eighteen. Gwen’s surge of triumph was probably completely out of proportion to the fifteen dollars she’d won, but it was a good way to start.
    Rennie turned over his cards to show a four and a nine and gave her that devilish smile again. This time it sent a pulse of adrenaline through her system that had nothing to do with nerves. “Looks like you brought me that luck.”
    â€œMaybe I’ll stick around,” she said carelessly, picking up the chips the dealer slid her way.
    â€œMaybe you should.” He had a way of looking at her asthough she were the only thing in his field of view that interested him, as though the game were irrelevant now that she’d arrived.
    Her cosmopolitan appeared at her elbow.
    He raised an eyebrow. “Girlie drinks?”
    â€œA woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do.”
    â€œAnd I’m sure you do it well.” He lifted his whiskey and touched it to her glass.
    Cool and sweet, the drink slid down her throat easily.
    The dealer coughed. “Bets, please.”
    Gwen studied her bet circle. Aggressive but not foolish. She slid six five-dollar chips into the circle.
    Rennie gave her that look again, the one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking and it amused him. “Living large?”
    â€œFeeling lucky.”
    And her feeling was borne out when the dealer busted, leaving them both ahead.
    â€œSo, you out here for business or pleasure?” she asked casually.
    â€œBusiness, but no reason it has to be all work. How about you?”
    â€œPleasure. I was supposed to meet a friend named Jerry, but he had to bail.” This, of course, was his lead-in to talk about his own friend named Jerry, but he didn’t bite.
    Instead he just raised an eyebrow and pushed out a couple of chips. “A friend friend or just a friend?”
    Gwen flushed. “Just a buddy.”
    â€œHis loss is my gain.” Rennie shifted in the chair. He had broad shoulders on what looked like a rangy build. That was all right—she liked leanly built men. He gave her a slow smile that had her stomach turning cartwheels.
    Gwen blinked. Wait a minute. Back up. This was not part of the program. It was one thing to flirt and