An hour later Deena walked into the grand ballroom at the Gramercy Casino on the strip of Las Vegas.
From what she’d seen so far—from the main entrance, through the long golden hallways, up the elevator and into the large and lavishly decorated grand ballroom—the Gramercy was a beautiful hotel. It was also a casino, that she noted from the discreet signs throughout the main entrance and on the elevators directing guests to the west wing of the building for gaming entertainment. Normally Deena loved to gamble, not necessarily for the money, but for the adrenaline rush. She was actually pretty good at poker without even trying. But she hadn’t had the time to indulge in a while. Maybe she would tonight after the festivities.
She’d arrived with her parents, they were arm in arm and she stood right beside her mother.
“This is my youngest daughter, Deena,” her mother introduced her.
Deena smiled and shook the hands of both of the lovely women standing in front of her.
“I’m Beverly Donovan,” the taller one with shoulder-length dark curls said first. She was beautiful, looking like she could be in her early forties instead of a mother and grandmother.
“And I’m Alma Donovan,” the other woman said.
She, Deena thought with a pang in her chest, looked just like her son. Alma Donovan was a shade or two darker than Max, but the eyes were the same, a mystical kind of color that at first glance wasn’t positively green or gray. Max’s she knew now, after glancing at them in the sunlight and in the moonlight and in the wee hours of the morning, were undeniably green. Alma’s were fastened to Deena as if she’d seen her someplace before.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Deena cleared her throat and spoke finally. “My mother has spoken very highly of you and your endeavors.”
“Your mother is a gem,” Beverly said. “We’re so happy we could get together and do this. It’s such a worthy cause.”
Alma was still smiling at Deena. “You’re absolutely right, Beverly. Helping the children in need is more than a worthy cause. Do you have a husband and children, Deena?”
Wow, and Deena thought she was the candid one. “Ah, no, not yet.”
“Deena’s a writer,” Noreen offered. “Her first book was released about nine months ago.”
“Oh really? How nice. I’ve never met a real live writer before,” Beverly said. “What do you write?”
“Romance,” Deena said proudly.
“Black love,” Alma said, shaking her head. “There’s nothing like it.”
Noreen reached for Paul’s hand. “Nothing at all.”
Deena Lakefield was a pretty young lady with a bright smile and intelligent eyes. She was, in Alma’s quick assessment, perfect for Ben.
“Come, Deena. As a matter of fact, I think there are a few people here from the publishing industry. Now would be a great time for you to meet them.”
“Sure,” Deena said, eagerly breaking away from the crowd to walk along with Mrs. Donovan.
The older woman had threaded her arm through Deena’s as they began to walk. “I’m so proud to know a published author. And to think I’ve been working closely with your mother all these months and had no clue. You know we’re practically family now,” Alma was saying.
Deena groaned inwardly. They could have legally been family if her son was even remotely interested in her.
“I’m really proud of what you and my mother have built here. I think Karing Kidz will be a huge success for both families.”
“I do, too. Beverly and I always wanted to do something specifically for the children. It’s our hope to take this global. Starting with North and South American children in need was almost mandated since our families are connected to both areas.”
“Really? You have family in South America?” Deena asked. They were almost to the other side of the ballroom, near the buffets and the bar.
“Well, sort of indirectly. My nephew Trent is in partnership with a Sam Desdune on the East Coast.”
Deena nodded. “I know Sam. He’s engaged to my sister.”
“Really? Wow, this is definitely a small world. Then you know that Sam’s sister is married to Lorenzo Bennett, who is the son of Marvin and Beatriz Bennett. Beatriz is originally from Brazil.”
Deena remembered very well. “Sam and Karena went to Pirata last year. They stayed with a princess and prince there.”
Now Alma was nodding. “You’re exactly right. It was through them that we found out about the street children in Brazil and the man trying to help them with limited funds. That really sparked our interest. Your mother was actually the first to make contact with that man and then she called us. So you see what I mean—we’re family indirectly.”
The older woman chuckled and Deena found herself relaxing. It was like being with her own mother. When they arrived at the bar Alma requested two flutes of champagne and just as they were about to take their first sip Deena saw her signal for someone. In the next minute a man was standing with them.
He was tall with an athletic build, his complexion a dark brown, his eyes a lighter shade of the same color. His smile was easy, that was a relief to her and when he extended his hand in greeting she found herself eager to respond.
“This is my son, Benjamin. Ben, this is Deena Lakefield.”
Her son? Max’s brother?
“Oh, if you’ll excuse me, I see someone I must speak with.” And just like that Alma was gone and Deena was alone with Ben.
“Could she have been any less subtle?” Ben asked, slipping a hand into his pocket.
Deena laughed. “I was thinking that but wasn’t going to say it.”
“It’s okay, she means well. So your parents are in partnership with mine?”
“Looks that way,” was her reply.
“Then we should definitely toast to new beginnings,” he said, scooping a champagne flute from the bar and lifting it in her direction.
“You are absolutely right,” Deena said smiling and lifting her glass to clink against his. “New beginnings.”
“You clean up well,” Jade said, coming to her tiptoes to kiss Max on his cheek.
“Gee, thanks,” he responded, smiling at his cousin’s wife. A woman who had become like a sister to him. “You look exceptionally gorgeous yourself. Linc isn’t half as smart as I thought he was, letting you come to this party all by yourself.”
A strong clap on his back greeted those words and Max winked at Jade.
“Get your own woman and stop hitting on my wife,” Linc taunted.
“Stop leaving her alone and vulnerable,” Max said turning to shake his cousin’s hand.
“This room is full of Donovan men. Any other man would have to be out of his mind to try to poach on my territory here.”
“Did you forget who you were referring to?” Trent Donovan said, joining the small crowd. “What’s up, cousin? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy,” Max spoke in his own defense.
“So I’ve heard,” Trent said.
“And where’s your wife? You in the habit of leaving her alone too?”
“No man in his right mind, period, would make a play for my wife. They know they’d have me to contend with,” Trent said with a confident smile. “She’s on a photo shoot in L.A.”
“It must be a task having to keep tabs on a wife and stay in shape to keep poachers away from her,” he said. It was meant as a thought, but he’d spoken it aloud.
“Your time’s coming,” Jade spoke up, giving him a knowing look.
Max was already shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
And he really didn’t. Marriage was not something that he foresaw for himself. He’d dismissed that possibility a long time ago. But Max didn’t want to think about that tonight. He just wanted to see his family, show his support to his mother and his aunt and go home.
Half an hour later, he was ready to do just that. His gaze had just scanned the room, socialites and more socialites were all he could see. He wanted to go home; tonight was not the night to be around people. He’d greeted all his family so there was no reason to stay. They’d say he came and stop nagging him about staying cooped up in his house. Turning away from the crowded ballroom Max was all set to make his departure when something caught his eye.
The color was bright, vibrant. The body was dangerous, sinful. The smile was…familiar.
She laughed, tossing her head back. Her hair, tight dark twists, was pulled up into some sort of bun with fat tendrils playing softly around her face. Her hands were on his shoulders, his were around her waist.
“Her” being Deena and “him” being Ben. His woman and his brother.
Rage moved through him like a swallow of bad beer. It was an acrid taste in his mouth and even as he swallowed he knew what was coming next wouldn’t end well. Max was moving toward them long before he thought about where he was or who he was. All he could see was Ben’s hands on Deena…Deena smiling up at Ben…Ben leering down at Deena in that form-fitting dress displaying everything he’d once touched, once kissed. His temples throbbed as he pushed through people in the crowd to get to his destination.
His fingers were already wrapping around the material of Ben’s jacket, pulling him back away from Deena. Ben was already cursing, struggling to get out of Max’s grip.
“Going from one brother to the next. I would have thought better of you, Deena.”
For a minute she looked truly shocked—either that he was there or that he’d caught her flirting with his brother. Then that look quickly turned to anger.
“Are you out of your mind? Let him go!” she said, trying to keep her voice low.
“Why? So you can have your way with him next? I don’t think so. He’s leaving and so are you.”
Max released Ben, casting him a heated glare. Then, turning his attention back to Deena, he grabbed her by the wrist and proceeded to pull her through the crowd.
“Let me go, you big idiot!” she shouted from behind him, swinging her purse at his broad back.
Around him Max barely heard the audible gasps and murmurs of guests or saw the flicker of cameras. He was too focused on the woman that had been haunting his dreams for the past seven months and the brother he loved and trusted. How did they know each other? How long had whatever was going on between them been going on? He definitely did not appreciate being made a fool of.
“Max, what are you doing?” This was Trent, who had appeared in front of him, effectively blocking his path.
“You don’t want to be in my way right now, man,” was all Max said.
“I don’t think you really want to be doing what you’re doing, in this crowded room. What’s going on? Who is she?”
Max pushed past Trent, declining to answer any more questions. Behind him Deena was hurling curses and struggling to break free. Her efforts were futile and only increased his anger.
“You’re an insensitive jerk, you know that? I don’t know why I ever thought I could be in love with you. Let me go!”
“Maxwell Frederick Donovan, what in the world are you doing?” That was his mother storming through the doors that led to the hallway where the back elevators were. His father was right beside her, a look of utter outrage on his face.
Even though they were away from all the guests, Max and Deena still weren’t alone. Every member of the Donovan clan that was at this party was now in this hallway. Along with two other people he didn’t know, one, a man that was headed straight at him.
“Young man, you either release my daughter now or I’m going to—”
Alma touched a hand to the man’s arm, then looked at Max.
“This is Ms. Lakefield’s father. Now, I suggest you release his daughter before things get messier than I suspect they already are,” she said in a serious tone.
Max’s father, Everette Donovan, came up beside him. “Let her go, son.”
Max felt his fingers releasing Deena’s wrist a split second before he felt the palm of her hand connecting soundly with his right cheek.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on me again!” she said before pushing past people and heading to the elevators.
The man, her father, followed her as well as the woman who had been with him. It was his guess that these were her parents, but what were they doing here? What was Deena doing here?
“What the hell’s your problem?” Adam asked.
“He needs his head examined,” Ben replied.
“You need to get your own woman and keep your hands off mine!” Max yelled at his brother.
“What?” It was a combined gasp from more than one person in the hallway so Max didn’t know who to answer, not that he was really thinking of offering an answer.
In the short distance he heard the ding of the elevator arriving and looked over just in time to see Deena and her parents board. She stared right at him, rage simmering in thick rays across the space to spear him right in his heart. “Your woman?” Trent asked.
Linc looked from the now closed elevator door to Max. “That’s the woman from Hilton Head?”
With lips closed tight, Max simply nodded.
Ben threw back his head and laughed.
Adam was next to follow Ben’s lead. Trent smiled but didn’t let loose. And Linc, because he was older and supposedly wiser, just shook his head.
“You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what’s going on, Max,” Everette said in his booming voice. “And that’s being generous. Your mother is giving you about two especially since you’ve made a spectacle at their first event and pissed off one of her partners.”
“Partner? Who’s your partner?” he asked his mother.
“If you would have acted like I’d taught you something about manners you would have been properly introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Paul Lakefield of the Lakefield Galleries in Manhattan. Noreen Lakefield has partnered with your aunt and myself in this new venture of ours.”
The moment she said their names Max’s stomach twisted. Damn it!
“Then what was she doing here?”
It was obvious to all of them who she was.
“She’s their daughter. Their youngest daughter, who you just about dragged across the entire ballroom. Now, may I ask why?”
Max could do nothing but sigh. “Ask him,” he said, nodding toward a still laughing Ben.
“I’m asking you,” Alma said.
Swallowing what little bit of pride he had left, Max dutifully answered, “I met Deena Lakefield while I was in Hilton Head. She was staying at the Sandy Pines. We had…sort of had an affair. I haven’t seen her since.”
Everette’s face was still grim, but Alma nodded as if she finally understood.
“This is why you’ve been in such a sour mood since you came back,” she said knowingly.
“Nothing’s wrong with my mood. Or at least it wasn’t until I saw him all hugged up with Deena.”
Ben held up his hands in mock surrender. “Bro, I just met her about ten minutes before you pulled the caveman routine.”
“He’s right. I just introduced them,” Alma said. “Had you not been secretive all this time about the woman in your life I would have known not to try to set her up with one of my eligible sons. Why did you keep that from us?”
“She doesn’t belong to me,” Max muttered tightly.
“I can’t tell,” Trent spoke up.
Each of his cousins had a smirk on their faces, one Max wanted to wipe away with his anger.
“Just forget it,” he said finally. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening,” he said to his mother and walked toward the elevators.
“Max, I’m here if you want to talk about whatever is bothering you,” Alma said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
With a heavy sigh he turned, pulled his mother into his arms and hugged her. “I know you are, Mom. But I’ll be okay. I’ll apologize to the Lakefields.”
“That would be nice,” Everette said then clapped a hand on his son’s back. “If a woman can get that reaction out of you by simply talking to another man, I’d say you need to rethink making her yours.”
On the elevator ride down Max figured it was definitely too late for that.