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The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be(27)

By:Holly Rayner




And now I had to go for round two. Great.



I followed the girls back to our room, where we took turns jockeying for  the shower. Sarah made a drink for me and I accepted it gratefully. At  least I wasn't sore and hungover. I was glad I hadn't started drinking  earlier like the rest of them, but now I was ready to loosen up a  little.



In the spirit of loosening up, I decided to dress up, too. I didn't have  much in the way of fancy clothes, but I'd brought the cream of my  closet to Vegas with me. I paired a little black dress that hugged my  curvy frame with a pair of magenta pumps I hadn't worn in years. It was  nice to have a reason to wear them again.



"Oh hey, hot mama," Sarah commented when she saw me.



"Not as hot as you," I replied.



The bride-to-be had opted for a sparkly halter top and a black miniskirt  with a pair of black espadrilles. Sarah wasn't normally the type to  wear makeup, but tonight she was done up to the nines. It made me feel a  bit plain.



"You're not wearing any makeup?" Ariana asked.



"I don't really have any," I replied.



The girls swarmed me like a flock of seagulls at an abandoned picnic.  One second I was my normal self but in a nice dress, and the next I was a  downright bombshell. Heather, the self-professed "master of hair," had  curled my mane into sleek waves. Ariana and Elyse collectively had an  arsenal of cosmetics that would rival a Sephora. When they were finished  with me, my blue eyes popped and my lips were poutier and more defined.



I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror.



There you are. I haven't seen you in years.



I'd missed this side of me-the girly, glamorous side. She used to come  out all the time. I hadn't ever expected that having a kid would change  me so much. It was nice to feel like I'd turned back the clock, if only  for one night.



"You look amazing, Skyler," Sarah said. "I'm tempted to tell you to take  it all off just so I can go back to being the most glamorous one here."



"No you don't!" Heather objected.



I laughed. "I'm glad you like it, babe," I said, grinning. "Because you'll be the one taking me home tonight."         

     



 



Sarah winked. "Aren't I the lucky one."



We had another drink in the room and then headed down to the restaurant  for dinner. We'd chosen the main hotel restaurant for our first  evening's meal because there was a coupon in our welcome package, but  also because we were all so beat from our day out that we didn't feel  like straying too far from the hotel.



"You know what we should do tonight?" Sarah said, munching on one of the biggest burgers I'd ever seen.



"What?" Heather asked.



"Let's save the clubbing for tomorrow and spend tonight in the casino,"  she replied. "I've been dying to play a few games of blackjack."



I sensed Heather had originally planned on something a little more  adventurous, but she didn't argue. It was Sarah's weekend after all.



I didn't love the plan either. Spending money to ride a roller coaster  or go to a show was one thing, but throwing money at a game you could  never truly win was another thing entirely.



"I like that idea," said Heather. "But let's get out of here, at least.  Let's go somewhere fabulous, like the Bellagio, or Paris!"



After some deliberation, we decided on the Bellagio since Ocean's Eleven  was one of Elyse's favorite movies. Though Heather assured me that it  wouldn't cost any more to gamble at the Bellagio than it would at our  own casino, I still balked at the idea of going somewhere even fancier  than where we currently were.



But I was here to support my friend and have fun, even if we weren't  having my kind of fun. I was beginning to feel like I didn't know how to  have fun anymore. The other girls had let their inhibitions fly,  whereas I couldn't help but tally up every cent I spent.



That was why I was so excited that all you had to do to get free drinks  at the Bellagio-or any Vegas casino, as Sarah informed me-was sit and  play one of the penny slot machines. We took up a whole row of machines,  adding to the cacophony of electronic chimes and beeps.



"This is the most fun you can have with your pants on," Elyse said,  sipping her beer. She pulled the lever again and watched the symbols  spin.



"Are you kidding?" replied Sarah. "This is the most fun you can have,  period." She grinned, her eyes glued to the screen. "I'm up nearly three  dollars."



I was playing much more slowly than the rest of them. Sure, a dollar  here and there wouldn't make too much of a difference, but I'd already  fed the machine five of my hard-earned dollars and wasn't anxious to  give away any more.



That being said, Elyse and Sarah were onto something. The flashing  lights and smoky atmosphere of the casino floor gave it a sense of  dream-like fantasy, and the chance of winning back my money for only a  small sacrifice made it hard to quit. Not that any of us had tried.



After a few free drinks, however, my bladder demanded I take a break.



"I'm going to the bathroom," I announced, grabbing my clutch from between the machines.



Normally I could have expected at least one of the girls to hop up and  come with me, but all four of them were far too occupied by their games.  I couldn't blame them. Besides, I'd never been much for group bathroom  visits.



"Have fun," Sarah said.



"Make good choices," Heather chorused.



Ariana and Elyse said something too, but I was already on my way toward the main path.



I took my time on the way back from the restroom, and my tipsy  meandering led me past all sorts of interesting characters: elderly  women camped out in front of slot machines, couples draped across each  other at card tables, cowboys with wide-brimmed hats and booming  voices-everything I'd ever pictured Vegas to be.



Apparently, I was too engrossed in my people watching to look where I  was going. One second my feet were connected with the solid, carpeted  floor. The next I was veering off sharply to the right as I tripped over  my own foot.



I barely had time to register the fact that I was falling before I collided into something solid.



No, not something. Someone.





FOUR





I fell, yelping in alarm. Someone said something in a language I  couldn't understand. Then I collided with a man at the craps table.         

     



 



"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I started spouting out apologies before I'd even righted myself.



I was face-first against the man's shirt. He must have been quite a bit  taller than me, because my face didn't rise above his shoulders. That  being said, I was leaning into him pretty heavily.



"I honestly have no idea how that happened. Jeez, I'm such a-"



I stopped speaking as soon as I looked up at his face.



Holy moly macaroni.



The man who caught me looked like he'd walked off the cover of some  high-profile business magazine. He looked down at me with warm,  chocolaty eyes and full, curved lips. He had the rich, dark complexion  of someone from the Middle East or Western Asia.



While I continued gaping at him, he set me back on my feet.



"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was lightly accented and sounded Middle-Eastern in origin.



He stared down at me through lashes as dark as the inky black waves on  his head. The dusting of stubble on his elegant chin was just as dark. I  couldn't stop looking at him. I knew I should say something, but the  embarrassment surging through my veins made me fear that if I opened my  mouth I'd only end up making more of a fool of myself.



"Mr. Afsal," a woman's voice called. I couldn't see her behind my savior's broad frame.



He glanced over, his hands still on my shoulders to hold me steady. "I know. I threw the dice too early. It's fine."



Oh God! Not only had I bowled over the most attractive man in the  casino-and I didn't need to see the rest of the men there to know this  for sure-but I'd messed up his game too! How much money had I just lost  him?



My face flushed with heat. I readied myself to pull away from him.



And then the dealer said, "Actually, Mr. Afsal-that's craps!"



The table around us went up in cheers. Startled, I went to take a step  back, but the man didn't let me. He grinned and pulled me into a tight  hug. His deep, masculine laugh rumbled through me, sending a shiver of  delight down my spine.



"What's happening?" I asked. My face was pressed into the soft cotton of  his shirt again, only this time I noticed the intoxicating smell of his  cologne. I breathed in the scent of sandalwood and something musky  before he released me again.



"What's happening?" he repeated. "Do you know anything about craps?"



"Not a thing."



I glanced around at the table, where a crowd of people had gathered and  were celebrating something. I found it odd that the man holding me  hadn't abandoned my clumsy ass to join in.