Certified Male by Kristin Hardy Read Free Book Online

with the other dealer.”
    â€œWhich other dealer?”
    â€œThe one who left when you came up.”
    â€œWas that her name?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounded like a nickname.”
    â€œWhat did she look like?” Gwen asked sharply, thinking back. But she’d fastened so quickly and completely onhim that everyone else was a cipher. She cursed under her breath. “I can’t picture her at all.”
    â€œDoes it matter?”
    He was looking at her attentively—way too attentively. Relax, she told herself. “No, it’s no big deal. I was just surprised.” So how willing would the staffers be to help her find Rennie? And would she be back on shift the next evening? Maybe a quick conversation with the other dealer would help. Then again, Gwen didn’t want to make Rennie suspicious.
    â€œBoy, you’ve got some serious wheels turning in that head of yours,” Del commented. “Not that it’s not an entirely gorgeous head, but if I were Rennie, I’d be a little scared.”
    He’d leaned back to watch her, the frank curiosity on his face more than a little alarming. She needed to defray that, pronto. Flirt, Nina, flirt.
    Gwen traced a pattern on the tabletop with one fingertip and sent him a look of promise. “Who cares about Rennie or whoever? You’re here and I’m here, that’s all that matters.”
    The amusement was back in his smile as he leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table, putting him disconcertingly near. “I suppose. You’re holding out on me, though,” he added conversationally.
    Alarm surged through her. “What—what do you mean?”
    A beat went by. “Your name. You know mine, I don’t know yours.”
    â€œOh.” She almost sighed with relief. “Nina.”
    â€œNice name. So what brings you to Vegas, Nina?”
    â€œA couple days off. I wanted to get out of town.”
    He watched her for a moment, his mouth curving in a way that suggested he could see more than she wanted. “Searching for people named Rennie?”
    Gwen flushed. “No. I just wanted a break.”
    â€œFrom what?”
    â€œOh, life.” That much was true. She thought of the restlessness that had plagued her of late. “You know, you get tired of being stuck at home.”
    â€œWhere’s home?”
    â€œSan Francisco.”
    Genuine pleasure slid over his features. “No kidding? That’s my stomping grounds.”
    â€œReally? Small world. What are you here for?”
    â€œI’m doing a series on poker. I’m a sportswriter for the Globe. ”
    â€œYou’re a journalist?” Gwen asked faintly. That was all she needed—a curious reporter around.
    Again he gave her that look. “I don’t think I’d dignify it with that word necessarily. Let’s just say I can bang out twenty column inches on the Giants versus the Dodgers by deadline.”
    â€œYou don’t sound thrilled with it.” The waitress set their drinks down in front of them.
    Del shrugged. “It’s a living. What about you?”
    Gwen swirled her brandy glass to buy time. Lying wasn’t in her nature. Then again, the last thing she wanted to do was give any personal details to a reporter, especially to a reporter who was entirely too interested in her earlier gaffes already. Even if he was a sportswriter. “I’m an accountant,” she told him. It wasn’t really a lie. She did the books at Chastain Philatelic Investments. She just did a whole lot more.
    â€œSeriously?” He grinned, sending a little flutter through her midsection. He was so close, she realized suddenly. Close enough to whisper. Close enough to kiss.
    Gwen blinked. “Yes, seriously. Why, what did you think I did?”
    â€œI don’t know. But I could have guessed a couple dozen possible occupations for you and none of them would have included