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been every inch the gentleman earlier in the evening, but now
there was no gentlemanly attempt to ease the impact of his weight on
her body. Jordan made no pretense of using his arms to support himself
partially. It was as if he intended she should remember everything
about him, including the way his hard frame crushed her luxuriously
into the red velvet bedspread.

Her head spinning like a roulette wheel, Alyssa gave herself up
completely to the passion of the moment. She clung to the rnan above
her, legs wrapped tightly around his lean hips, her arms around his
neck. It was as if Jordan were a dealer who spun the cards out much too
fast. There was no opportunity to keep track of them or to figure the
odds as the deck was played out All she could do was accept each new
one as it came.

And then she suddenly found herself holding too many cards. There was
an unbearable moment of tension, and then the whole pack seemed to
explode around her. Her body rippled in Jordan's arms, convulsing in a
way that brought a hoarse shout of satisfaction from his own lips. A
few seconds later,
he was joining her in the release.

Down she tumbled in his arms, dazed and awed at the result of the
gamble she had taken. Never had she known anything like this. Never had
she known a man who could bring her so fully alive to the bounty
of her own senses. For long moments, she lay still, enjoying the feel
of his relaxed body lying along hers, knowing a purely feminine
satisfaction in having pleased him.

Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes.

"Oh, lord!"

"What's wrong, honey?" Reluctantly, Jordan lifted his head from the
comfortable place he had discovered for himself on her breast. Framing
her head between his arms he looked down at her, an expression of
drowsy contentment in his golden eyes. He used his forefinger to smooth
aside a tendril of tangled auburn hair.

"Nothing," she said, grimacing wryly. "Just don't look up."

Her body, lying tangled with his on the red velvet spread, was clearly
reflected in the canopy mirror.
After one glimpse, Alyssa refused to look up again. In that one glance,
she had seen herself as another woman altogether. A sensuous, rather
reckless, totally satisfied female lying trapped beneath the hard male
body that had brought her such satisfaction. She looked, Alyssa realized belatedly, exactly as a
mysterious lady gambler would took after meeting her equally mysterious male counterpart.

It was just that she had never really expected to find a counterpart It
had all been intended as fantasy. An amusing way to spend a weekend and
make some easy money. What in the world had happened to her?

Jordan's mouth crooked in a wickedly amused smile. "I have no desire to
look up. The sight of my own backside doesn't particularly intrigue me,
and as far as you're concerned, I prefer the view from down here. Much
closer." He feathered a light kiss on her temple and another on her
throat, "And the truth is, honey, you look very good lying here beneath
me. Perfect, in fact"

Alyssa braved another glimpse in the mirror overhead. "Actually, your
backside is a little more intriguing than you might think." She pinched
him in an experimental fashion.

"Ouch! If that's the way you're going to show your appreciation, I'm going to deny you the view!"

He rolled to one side, pulling her with him. With a deft movement,
Jordan shoved the red velvet bedspread to the carpet, revealing gold
sheets. Deftly, he tucked her underneath and followed. When she glanced
up at their image in the canopy mirror, it was to see herself modestly
swathed to the throat in a sheet Alyssa glanced around the red plush
room and started to smile. A pleasantly dazed , languid sensation was
protecting her now from reality.

"What's so funny?" Jordan demanded easily, folding his arms behind his
head and watching her.

"I just realized. The Porsche that I'm going to buy— It's almost the
same shade of red as this room!
I think when I finally get ready to place the