Thea Devine - Fascinated

The croupier was pushing a very large stack of chips toward her, and with her heart beating wildly, she began to feel a soul-stirring hope. She might not be turned out into the street after all; she might be able to keep her home. It was impossible to reject the bounty before her, no matter what propriety required. Salvation was within her grasp when only moments ago, she was near-destitute. "I'm very, very, very much obliged," she breathlessly offered, elation in every grateful syllable, "Monsieur…?"

"Suffolk. Thomas Suffolk." Flynn sketched her a faint bow, and his dark hair momentarily gleamed in the chandelier light. "If I might suggest"-he deftly organized the increased stack of chips, taking out five one-thousand-franc chips and slipping them into her reticule-"perhaps one card this time."

He played for her from that point, smiling at her occasionally, keeping up a low murmur of inconsequential conversation, adding to the pile of chips before her while she stood next to the intoxicating warmth of his body and forced herself to appear calm in the midst of a wondrous miracle.

"Will that do?" he finally asked.

Another huge pile of chips was being added to her winnings. "Oh, yes, very much so. Without question!"

Flynn signaled an attendant to gather the chips and then offered Felicia his arm.

"You might need a guard," he teased a few moments later as they stood before the cashier, indicating with a nod the large pile of bank notes clutched in her hand.

"I don't know how I can ever thank you enough, Mr. Suffolk," she murmured, a glowing delirium in her voice. "My heart's still beating frantically."

Having a thought or two on how she might thank him, he blandly suggested, "Come have dinner with me next door. A glass of champagne will calm you."

She understood that under normal circumstances she wouldn't go to dinner with a stranger; but these were not ordinary circumstances, and he was far from an ordinary man. In fact, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Furthermore, the Hotel de Paris was perfectly safe with Daniel's brother and cousins in service there. And he had saved her from a life of drudgery as a governess or companion. He deserved her appreciation. "I'd like that," she said, smiling.

"Perfect." He held out his hand.

"Are you here for the season?" she asked as they strolled from the room.

"Actually I'm on my way back from Baku."

"Are you in oil?"

He shook his head. "I was visiting a friend. Are you here for the season…?"

She hadn't intended to be so garrulous, or stay so long, or enjoy herself so. But three hours later, she was still talking as though she had known her benefactor for years. She had told him about her disastrous marriage, her widowhood, about coming to Monte Carlo to care for her elderly aunt, and about Dickie hounding her for his share of the property when she had not thought he was given a share. About the dismal earnings on her aunt's funds left to her and in general everything about her life that one would disclose under the influence of a superb champagne and a charming man's interest.

"Oh, dear," she murmured, her hand on her mouth in a small theatrical gesture prompted by a modicum too much of champagne. "I've hardly given you a moment to speak."

"I've enjoyed listening to you."

"Most men don't like to listen. They like to lecture or offer pronouncements or go on for unspeakable lengths about the hunting field or the state of the crops or the newest coat fabric-like Dickie…" She giggled. "Or in the case of the hunting field, my obnoxious husband." Her sudden smile was enchanting. "Not that he could help being obnoxious coming from his odious family."

"Why did you marry him?"

"Because he had money and I had none and mostly because my father insisted. Actually, he locked me in my bedroom until I agreed."

"I see."

"You probably don't," she replied, interpreting the reservation in his tone. "Not with your looks and money. But in Aberdeen, my choices were limited without funds to have a season. Even when I came here five years ago, Auntie only took me as a companion on a conditional basis. "

"But she liked you."

Felicia smiled again, and he thought his luck was running well tonight. Not only had he won a goodly sum at roulette, but the most beautiful woman in the casino was seated across from him, smiling, and the very large bed in his suite above would offer thern a lovely view of the sunrise.

"We came to be friends. Do you have family?"

He shook his head.

"You just travel?"

"I spend a portion of the year in England."

"Hunting?" she teased.

He smiled back. "Sometimes. Mostly I follow my thoroughbreds on the race circuit."

"A racing stable. Now, that requires a win or two at the roulette tables. Thomas Suffolk," she murmured. "Your name sounds vaguely familiar. "

"It's a common enough name." He had not mentioned his title. He often didn't, preferring anonymity if possible. "Would you like more dessert?"

"Heavens no. In fact," she added, taking note that they were the last diners in the room, "I should be going home. I've probably bored you to tears by now, although I want to thank you once again for simply everything." She opened her arms wide in an expansive gesture that mounded her breasts above her decolletage in the most delectable way. "And if there's anything at all I can do to show my appreciation, although appreciation is such a bland word for all you've done for me. You've quite literally saved my home for me and kept me from a life of abject drudgery and in general appeared like some beautiful guardian angel out of the blue-" Taking note of his expression, her rush of words trailed off.

"There might be something," he quietly said.

She laughed in delight. "How wonderfully you say that. So softly-without a modicum of demand. I was tempted to ask you the same thing a dozen times, but you were so polite"- she took a small, sustaining breath because she was about to step onto dangerous new ground-"and I've never actually-asked a man to take me to bed before, and I told myself you might say no and embarrass me for asking or you might say yes too quickly and make me nervous." Drawing in another breath, she rushed on. "So the answer is yes, of course, yes, I'd like to, if you don't think me too forward. And yes, please, I'd like to very much considering I haven't slept with a man since my husband died five years ago, and even that doesn't really count because regardless of my novice status, I could still tell he was utterly inadequate." She quickly held up her hands. "I don't mean to put any pressure on you in any way, Mr. Suffolk, in terms of adequacy or inadequacy. In fact, I'll apologike in advance for my own incompetence."

It was his turn to laugh. "I'm not sure I want to anymore."

"There. Now I've ruined everything because I never know when to stop talking, although I think the champagne is entirely to blame tonight. You're incredibly handsome, by the way, although I suspect you know that."

"Thank you and you're extremely beautiful, although I suspect you know that as well. Now, if I could interest you in a short walk up one flight of stairs," he offered, rising from his chair, "we could finish our conversation on the terrace."

"Under the stars. How romantic."

He smiled. "I'm not sure I'm very good at being romantic."

"You needn't be romantic," she qualified, coming to her feet. "It's quite enough simply looking at you."

His perfect teeth flashed white in a grin. "Lord, you must be tipsy."

Sweeping past him, she threw a cheerful glance over her shoulder. "A wee dram never hurt anyone."

She seemed to know her way upstairs, and when he began to wonder if the young lady was more than she appeared, she came to rest at the top of the first flight and further piqued his interest by saying, "I'd suppose you have Wales's suite." She had seen with what deference he was treated by the staff during dinner. The big winners at the casino always had the best suites.

"Why would you suppose that?" His brows twitched. "Or even know that?"

"That's a yes, I presume," she lightly replied, turning to the left and moving down the corridor in a deliciously provocative stroll that further baffled him. Might she be a courtesan after all? Had he misinterpreted her persona or was she simply that good an actress?

Not that it mattered, he supposed. He followed her swaying form and alluring fragrance to the corner suite that overlooked the whole of the harbor as well as the palaces of Monaco across the bay.

"I do adore the Wales's suite." Waiting for him at the doorway, she smiled at him with the most intriguing innocence.

"Do you do this often?" he softly asked, inserting the key into the lock.

"Win money at the casino or go to men's rooms?"

His glance swiveled to her, an ironic cast to his gaze.

"Maybe that's for you to find out, Monsieur Suffolk," she sportively declared. "Am I a woman of the night or not?" She struck a theatrical pose.

His gaze traveled slowly down her body, and when it returned to her face, he was smiling. "We'll find out soon enough, won't we," he softly said, pushing the door open. "After you, Mrs. Greenwood."

"Miss Greenwood," she amiably corrected, brushing past him. "I prefer forgetting my marriage." She quickly spun around. "You're not married, are you? Because while I understand fidelity isn't a requirement for a man-as evidenced by this suite that has never seen the presence of the Princess of Wales-nevertheless, I'd not wish to be a pernicious influence in a marriage."

"Rest assured, I'm not married." He quietly shut the door.