Chapter 1      

Rhett was in a sour mood that day after busting out in the finals at a major poker tournament. It was a small consolation that his friend Mac, better known as Maverick in the poker world, was the one who’d taken the prize money. Rhett crossed the room to congratulate him, only to stop short at the sight of the petite dark-haired woman standing next to Mac in a wine-colored women’s suit that covered up the charms the good Lord had given her. She was wearing panty hose beneath her knee-length skirt, and he could tell she sure as hell didn’t have a tattoo like most of the women he met on the circuit. 

This was Mac’s sister! He’d heard dozens of yarns about her from Mac, but they’d never met.

Abbie Maven looked like a fish out of water amidst the scantily dressed hotties in the crowd, but Rhett was swept away by her beauty and sweetness. From her perfectly styled chin-length black hair to the tips of her elegant low-heeled cream-colored pumps, she was every bit a lady—so much so Rhett wouldn’t have been surprised to find her picture in a women’s magazine article. She was grinning at her brother—something he would learn was uncharacteristic of her—and her arm was tucked lovingly around an enthusiastic young boy who looked just like Maverick. Mac’s nephew, and her son, Rhett realized. 

The bitter taste of defeat left his mouth, and he found himself hankering to get closer to her. He imagined she smelled as fresh as a hot July peach and tasted even more tantalizing.

But because Mac was his friend, Rhett told himself she was off-limits.

Sure as shooting, when she caught sight of him ambling toward them, the grin left her face. In fact, she turned downright pale, almost like she was going to faint—something he wouldn’t mind, since he planned on catching her.

“You’re Rhett Butler Blaylock,” the young boy called out. “I’m Dustin, and this is my mom, Abigail Maven, but people call her Abbie. Except for me, of course. You play like a crazy man, just like Uncle Mac said. It’s so cool. When you went all in on that last hand…”

Rhett focused his attention on the young boy as he continued to chatter, aware of his mama watching the scene. Dustin was a breath of fresh air, full of piss and vinegar, as Rhett’s mama would say.

“Dustin,” Abbie finally said softly. “Take a breath.”

The boy stopped speaking instantly and took a huge one, loud enough to make Rhett chuckle. “Mom says I’m like a jukebox sometimes. It’s like someone put a quarter in me.”

Rhett laughed a little louder, and Mac joined him. Abbie gave her son a look.

“I’d say a whole dollar from that speech,” Rhett replied, tousling the boy’s hair playfully. “Personally I love me a good ol’ fashioned jukebox. They play the best tunes.”

Since the woman before him made him jittery, Rhett took a breath to compose himself before turning toward her.

“Ms. Maven, it’s good to finally meet you. Mac here speaks highly of you.”

She continued to stare at him. “You as well.”

While his heart was racing under his zebra-striped vest, she stuck her hand out like she was Robert E. Lee surrendering at Appomattox or something. For a moment, she caught him flat-footed. He wasn’t used to women wanting to shake his hand. Usually they had something else in mind. 

But his manners kicked in. He gave his charming, shit-eating grin as he engulfed her tiny hand, hoping her earlier humor would return. Instead, she cocked her eyebrow at him as though he were a camel wandering around in a winter blizzard. She sure seemed to think he was crazy. Well, she wasn’t half wrong. The thoughts he was having about her made him a candidate for the loony bin.

“I take it the Maverick here didn’t prepare you for me,” he said in his drawl, which usually had women hanging on his every word.

Her mouth gave the faintest hint of a smile. “His briefings about people are usually more spot on, but perhaps you defy description, Mr. Butler.”

Mr. Butler? Wasn’t she cool as a cucumber and then some? “Rhett, ma’am, and I would like to think I do,” he said, leaning down some to take a good whiff of her perfume. It wasn’t the peach scent of his imaginings, but something a little muskier and more alluring. Lord, he’d be eating out of her hand but good in another minute.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around, Mr. Butler,” Abbie said before he could make more of a jackass of himself. “Dustin, it’s time for bed.” 

The boy gave a playful wave, wished everyone goodnight, and followed his mother out of the hotel lobby that had accommodated the poker tournament.

“It’s Rhett,” he called out, a fraction too late. 

The sweet perfection that was Abbie Maven had disappeared.

Mac clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t take to people very easily. She’s a little shy.”

She hadn’t seemed shy so much as disinterested. Rhett was surprised to discover he was the one who felt totally out of his depth. He didn’t mingle much with ladies, and as a professional poker player, he got more mileage and press from appearing to be a bad boy. That didn’t mean he didn’t treat women with respect. No siree. His mama had taught him from the time he was a sprout to say “ma’am” and open doors for the women folk. She was fond of saying, “We give birth to y’all, and the least you could do is talk to us proper and treat us right.”

Rhett saw Abbie often at the major poker tournaments after that first meeting, especially as he and Mac became better friends. He spent more time with her son, Dustin, too. Mac had told him that Abbie was a single mama, although Mac lived with them to help out. But when he probed a bit more, he hit a wall.

“Dustin’s father is totally out of the picture,” Mac said, his jaw tight. “I figure it’s Abbie’s business who knows the rest.”

Rhett knew better than to ask again. His own daddy had left him and his mama, after all. His mama didn’t mind talking about it to anyone who cared to listen, but Abbie was different.

Both he and Mac continued to be on the best of terms with Lady Luck, one or the other winning championship after championship, and Mac and Abbie collaborated to launch a successful line of upscale poker hotels. Rhett would visit them at their hotels over the years, staying as a guest in one of their premier suites.

Abbie had thawed to him, maybe even warmed up, but she always acted a little uncomfortable about the idea of him staying over at one of the homes they rented to give their family, Mac included, a sense of normality and structure. 

Maybe she was afraid he’d walk around the house in a leopard-print thong or something. Usually he just walked around buck naked, but he’d observe normal conventions—like wearing clothes—for her. His mama hadn’t raised him in a barn.

Despite their differences, he never stopped hoping to get closer to her. Even though he knew it was foolish as a bear trying to talk himself out of hibernating.

His lucky break happened one sunny June afternoon after he’d won another big poker tournament in Mac’s Arizona hotel. He’d recently won the big granddaddy of them all, the World Series of Poker championship, and he was still flying high. 

Right now, he was hot poker shit.

“Rhett!” 

Dustin was pushing his way toward him through a sea of poker fans and well-wishers. Full of the regular hormones of a fourteen-year-old, he was giving some of the poker hotties embarrassed smiles as he brushed against them accidentally.

“Hell of a win, Rhett,” someone called out.

“How in the world did you come back after losing over half your chips?” another person shouted.

“Nerves of steel, boys,” he called out. “Dustin! What are you doing in this throng? It’s as thick as flies on flypaper in here.”

“You played sick,” Dustin said, his green eyes sparkling with a hero worship that made Rhett feel like a heavyweight. “I’m so glad you won. Especially since Uncle Mac didn’t.”

Maverick had come close this time. They didn’t like playing each other, but they’d agreed not to let anything harm their friendship. 

Mac appeared beside Dustin and extended his hand. “Congrats. You caught some hands even I would have thought impossible.”

“Lady Luck is my best girl,” he said, searching for Abbie. “Where’s your mama?”

“She doesn’t like the crowds,” Mac said. “She already headed up to our suite.”

Rhett fought the frown. She’d braved the crush for her brother. He couldn’t help but feel a little put out. They’d come far enough along to be friends, hadn’t they? “Let’s find her and celebrate. I’ll join you in your suite in a sec. I need to thank my girls first.”

Dustin and Mac nodded and disappeared in the crowd. Rhett turned to Raven and Vixen. They were dressed to the nines, like always, in teensy-weensy sequined dresses designed to attract attention. Only a handful of people in Rhett’s circle knew that Raven and Vixen, known affectionately in the media as his “poker babes,” were his secret poker scouts. They both had M.B.A.s from Harvard, the oldest university in these United States. Elizabeth Saunders aka Vixen and Jane Wilcox aka Raven had both needed new lives, and masquerading as his beautiful, ditzy companions had allowed them to hide in plain sight.

“Y’all are the best,” he told them, kissing each of them on the cheek.

While they were far too professional to break character in public, Rhett saw the mischievous sparkle in their eyes. It never failed to amuse them how much people underestimated a pretty woman in a tight dress. 

“I’ll see y’all later,” he said and set about making his way through the crowd, fielding questions from the press and fans. 

He knew how to find the Maven family suite. They had one in each of the hotels they owned—a place where they could host friends and business partners or comfortably sleep after a special event at the hotel. He’d celebrated other victories there before, both for himself and Mac. A few zealous members of the press core and some determined fans were on his tail, but they wouldn’t get past the security Mac posted at the corridor to the family suite during every competition. The bulky men in the maroon jackets nodded to him and let him pass. Rhett was delighted when Dustin greeted him at the door, grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat.

“You made it in record time! Mom thought we’d be waiting awhile.”

Rhett stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The family suite was much like Abbie: elegant, classy, and inviting. Her yellow linen suit didn’t have a wrinkle on it, he’d bet, and it was the perfect Abbie attire. It said, “Welcome, but don’t come too close.” 

Abbie met his gaze and then looked away, like a bird landing briefly on a blueberry bush only to be startled away. “You played remarkably, Rhett,” she said.

He wasn’t sure if “remarkably” was proper English. It didn’t sound right to his redneck ears. But he supposed it must be since Abbie had said it.

“Let’s pop some champagne,” Mac said, walking over to a silver bucket where a bottle of Krug was chilling.

“Krug, huh?” Rhett said as a pop resounded through the room. “I’m pleased as punch to see I rate the best.”

“You are the best!” Dustin exclaimed, bouncing in his sneaker-clad feet. “Mom, can I have a little to celebrate? Please. What Rhett did down there was epic. Right, Uncle Mac?”

“Right,” Mac said, pouring three glasses of champagne and serving drinks to both Rhett and Abbie. “Up to you about Dustin, Abbie.”

A frown marred her mouth. “You know how I feel about this sort of thing, Dustin. The legal age for drinking is twenty-one.”

“But, Mom! It’s only a sip. To toast with.” The boy hunched his lean shoulders and gave an audible sigh. “I never get to have any fun.”

“Yeah, you have a hard life,” Mac said, clapping his shoulder in a move Rhett knew was designed to bring the kid out of his mood. “It’s Rhett’s celebration. How about you give the toast?”

“I don’t have anything to drink,” Dustin protested.

“Let’s remedy that,” Mac said, and together he and Dustin picked out a soda from the well-stocked bar in the family room.

Dustin had lost some of his earlier enthusiasm, but he smiled when he extended his glass in the circle the four of them had made. “To the king of poker.”

Rhett grinned and clinked their glasses together. “I can drink to that.” Of course, king today, peasant tomorrow. Nothing could change a man’s fate faster than a hand of cards.

Then he met Abbie’s eyes and touched his glass to hers.

He supposed a woman could change a man’s fate just as fast—if she had a mind to. The only problem was that, all these years later, Abbie still didn’t seem to have a mind to. He sipped his Krug after toasting with Mac.

“I know what would make this celebration even better,” Dustin said, his grin spreading wider. “Rhett should come stay at our house for a few days before he leaves. You’re leaving town on Wednesday, right?”

Nodding, Rhett cast a quick glance at Mac. Maverick was drinking his champagne as though he hadn’t felt his nephew’s invitation rattle the windows like a jet streaking through the sky. 

“That way you can hang out with me more since I’m out of school,” Dustin continued, “and you can come to my soccer practice tomorrow. Isn’t that best idea ever, Mom?”

Rhett watched as Abbie took a healthy sip of her champagne. Her shoulders were ramrod straight, and she had the look of a chaperone who’d just been outmaneuvered by her charge.

“Dustin, I’m sure Rhett is all settled in his suite here at the hotel,” she said, and then coughed like she had a furball in her throat.

If Rhett hadn’t been so nervous, he might have laughed. But the stakes were too high. He wanted to stay at their house. Her house. Of course he’d been there before, but staying over would provide a different kind of intimacy. 

“He can stay in the guesthouse, Mom!” Dustin pressed. “Wouldn’t you like to stay with us, Uncle Rhett? Mom makes the best pancakes.”

“He’s had my pancakes, Dustin,” Abbie said in a tight voice.

This time Rhett started coughing. He’d had her pancakes, but not her… Better not think about that right now, he told himself.

“Uncle Mac! Tell Rhett to come stay with us.” The boy looked over at his uncle.

“Rhett is more than welcome,” his friend said. “But your mom runs the house, so it’s up to her. That was the deal we made.” He gave his sister a pointed look.

A moment passed before she answered. “Of course, Rhett, you are more than welcome,” Abbie finally said. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

While it wasn’t the warmest invite, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was the opportunity he’d been hoping for. “Thank you, Abbie. I’ll see to gathering up my things now. Maybe we can make those pancakes you were talking about tonight, Dustin. I can help.”

The boy jumped in the air. “Great! Breakfast for dinner. That’s why I love you, Uncle Rhett. You’re always unconventional. I’ll help you pack.”

In no time at all, Rhett was at the Mavens’ Arizona residence. He loved the golden, Spanish-style two-story with the rustic interior. The sweeping ceilings and arched doorways added grandeur to the space without making it feel too austere. Coupled with Abbie’s decorating in warm colors and unique, eye-catching art—something she excelled at both in her work at Mac’s hotels and their various homes—Rhett found himself feeling more than comfortable.

“I always love being in one of your homes,” he told her as she led him out the back. They cut through the garden and passed the infinity swimming pool, making their way toward the guesthouse. “Your garden is looking wonderful as always. How you manage to bring color to the desert, I’ll never know. My mama says it’s a true art.”

She looked over at him sharply. “You talk to your mother about me?”

He found himself clearing his throat again. “Well, yes. I mean…you’re some of my best friends. She loves hearing stories about y’all.”

“Dustin worships the ground you walk on,” she said, glancing back at the main house. Dustin was changing into his swimsuit. As soon as Rhett had arrived, he’d waylaid him at the door, suggesting they get into the pool before making pancakes. “I wish he’d look at me that way again. The older he gets, the more I feel like he’s determined to fight me on the smallest things, anything from how loud he plays his music to cleaning up his room.”

The soft glow from the lighting in the garden gave her face an ethereal quality, making him think of angels or godmotherly types. She was so untouchable to him, and yet all he wanted to do was touch her and keep on touching her…

“He’s a teenager, Abbie,” he said, “and from my perch, I’d say a really good one. If you’d seen me at that age, you’d pack up and take off for parts unknown.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, Rhett. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

A charge of electricity went through him, shooting from head to toe. “Do I? You’ve never said so before. I thought I…”

He trailed off, the words stuck in his craw.

Glancing up, her green eyes searched his face. “You thought what?”

A sharp noise burst from his lips before he could control himself. “That you didn’t think much of me and my way of thinking. I mean, you’re such a lady, and I’m…me. I’m not ashamed of that. I’ve made a heck of a life for myself after some pretty hard knocks, but you…”

He wasn’t sure if he should say the rest.

But then she put her hand on his arm, her skin warm and soft. She’d never touched him like that before. His heart seemed to stop.

“I what?” she whispered.

She seemed to be standing closer to him suddenly, her perfume filling his nose, intoxicating him. He could feel his control slipping away, and when he tried to bring it back, it was like a wet rope sliding through his clumsy fingers.

“You deserve better, is all,” he said softly.

Her mouth parted ever so slightly, and he could feel her shock prickle his own skin.

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t mind me none,” he said. “Must be fallout from the win.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, keeping her hand on his arm. “You’re mostly composed.”

He laughed. “Mostly” was a kindness. “Except around you.”

The fingers resting on his arm jerked. “Please don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wanting to kick himself. “You’d best get inside and leave me be. I’m no better than a junkyard dog, it seems. Please forget what I said.”

Picking up his suitcase, he moved the last few steps toward the guesthouse door.

“Rhett,” Abbie called out.

He turned reluctantly.

“You aren’t anything like what you just said.” She fisted her hands together at her side. “I’m sorry I ever made you think I thought less of you.” She was quiet for a moment, and when she continued, it was in a smaller voice. “Most of the time, I don’t know what to do about you.”

That statement gave him hope. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“You should also know that I think you’re a good man,” she said, worrying her lip. “Dustin and Mac wouldn’t love you otherwise, and I’ve always trusted their judgment.”

It was weird to hear her talk about the Maven boys loving him, but he supposed it was true. He loved those bubbas just as much. “Thank you, Abbie.”

“If things were different…”

Those words shot straight to his heart. Before he’d had hope, the kind that made him think he could win even though the chips were down. This new emotion was one he recognized: anticipation. It was when he knew he was going to get what he wanted. He couldn’t have been more surprised.

Dropping his suitcase, he walked back to Abbie in a few long strides. She was shivering, he realized, but not from any cold. Heck, the dry summer heat was powerful enough to cook a goose.

He reached out his hand, slow enough so she could step away. But she didn’t. Her green eyes seemed to grow larger in her face, and when he touched her cheek, she closed them, her lashes fanning down in a way that seemed sensual.

“Oh, Rhett,” she said, her voice agonized.

“Abbie,” he said, his voice equally strained. “You’re so beautiful.”

The soft skin of her cheek felt like a million benedictions. Yes, please. This woman. It’s time.

He leaned down to kiss her, waiting a spell to see if she’d bolt. His lips brushed her mouth, and her breath rushed out.

“Mom! Uncle Rhett! Where are you?”

They jumped apart, and Rhett pressed his hand to his forehead. He’d had Abbie’s sweet mouth next to his—finally—and they’d been interrupted. His luck had flown the coop, dammit all to hell.

“We’re back here, getting me settled,” Rhett called out since Abbie seemed frozen to the ground. “I’ll get changed and meet you in a flash, Dustin.”

He heard a splash of water in the pool and gazed back at Abbie. “You’d best go on now.”

She nodded jerkily and then turned tail and ran.