No, make that a double wow.
With her hair piled atop her head, with all that sooty mascara coating her lashes, and with the gorgeous satin material clinging to her curves, she looked like a different person.
“Oh my, I believe Mimi deserves a raise.”
Denise’s voice came from the doorway, and Maggie blushed as she met the blonde’s admiring stare. “You think I look good?”
“I think you look fabulous,” Denise corrected. She gave one last appraising look, and then gestured for Maggie to follow her. “Mr. Barrett asked for you to meet him in the lobby at midnight. You don’t want to be late.”
Maggie glanced down at her bare feet. “But I don’t have shoes.”
Denise pointed to the shoebox the hairdresser had left behind. “Sure you do.”
Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, Maggie made a beeline for the narrow box. She opened it, and unlike the hand-me-down gifts she’d received from her foster families over the years, this box contained something new and shiny. Silver, high-heeled sandals that matched the silver eye shadow Mimi had dabbed on Maggie’s eyelids. Ben had obviously planned everything to a T.
She slipped on the shoes and followed Denise out the door, oddly self-conscious as they left the spa. Her heels clicked against the white marble floor beneath them, and her heartbeat drummed in her throat as they neared the majestic lobby of the Paradise Bay resort.
“I feel like a princess,” she whispered, shooting a nervous glance at the woman next to her.
Denise stopped in front of the marble arch leading into the lobby. “And there’s your prince,” she whispered back.
Maggie shifted her gaze and saw him. Leaning casually against one of the stone pillars in the middle of the large room, his hawk-like gaze drilling into her.
Her surroundings seemed to fade as their eyes locked, and she never broke the contact as she walked across the room toward Ben.
“You look…damn, Maggie,” he murmured as she approached. “You look beautiful.”
Heat spilled through her at Ben’s speechless reaction. She had to admit, as out of her depth as she felt in the elegant dress he’d bought for her, she liked the effect it had. The neckline dipped so low that her breasts practically spilled out of the silk bodice, and that slit up the side showed a hell of a lot of thigh. It was the kind of dress meant to tease a man into submission, and though she’d never be a hundred percent comfortable dressing like a vixen, she liked the delight she saw in Ben’s dark blue eyes.
She also liked the tuxedo currently hugging his lean body, the way the black jacket stretched over his broad shoulders and emphasized his rock hard chest. With that classy tux and his clean-shaven face, he looked every inch the movie star he was, and again she felt like Cinderella as she accepted his proffered arm and curled her fingers around his biceps.
“Did you have fun at the spa?” he asked as they fell into step together.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He led her across the lobby toward a set of heavy oak doors flanked by two large men in tuxedos. At their approach, the men pulled the doors open with a graceful swoop and gestured for them to enter. Seeing as they were dressed like they were going to the prom, Maggie expected to walk into a grand ballroom. To her surprise, it was a casino.
And not the kind of casino you saw in Las Vegas tourism commercials, with flashing neon lights and ear-piercing sounds jangling out of slot machines. Small and sophisticated, this one offered a fair amount of game tables, waiters with trays of champagne, and a black tie clientele. Aside from the occasional jubilant cry coming from the roulette section, the atmosphere was serious yet relaxed, and it practically oozed money.
“Do you like to gamble?” Ben asked as they crossed the plush carpeted floor toward one of the blackjack tables.
“I don’t know. I’ve never gambled before.”
What would I have to gamble with? she almost added, but stopped herself just in time. A man as wealthy as Ben wouldn’t understand, anyway.
“Trust me. You’ll like it.”
They paused in front of a table, and a man in a black suit approached and exchanged a few words with Ben. They spoke in murmured tones, but Maggie caught the word “markers” and then raised her brows at the number “two thousand”.
As the bow-tied card dealer doled out a stack of chips and placed them in front of Ben, she leaned over and whispered, “Did you just ask for two thousand dollars worth of chips?”
“Yep.” He split the stack in half and pushed one pile toward her. “This one’s yours.”
She gulped. “I can’t take your money. What if I lose?”
“Then you lose.”
Her throat tightened with irritation. “I won’t be in debt to you, Ben.”
“Call it a gift.”
“A thousand-dollar stack of chips is not a gift.” Setting her jaw, she pushed the red circles back toward Ben’s pile. “I can’t accept it.”