Mistress Of Fortune. Kathie DeNosky
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Far from it. At the best of times, they were barely civil and at the worst, openly hostile.
“His PR director is on leave of absence and Blake asked me to help him work up a campaign for the opening of a new casino.”
She concentrated on inputting her meeting with Blake into her planner. Why did she feel as if she were being disloyal to Creed? They had never been anything more than good friends.
“Are you going to help him?” From the disapproval in Creed’s voice, Sasha could tell that he thought she should have turned Blake down.
She nodded. “I see no reason why I shouldn’t help him with the grand opening of his new casino.”
“I can give you a damned good reason.” Creed shook his head. “The son of a bitch can’t be trusted. Hell, I’d trust a rattlesnake before I put any kind of faith in Blake Fortune.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say about your brother, Creed.” Being an only child, she’d always wanted a brother or sister and couldn’t understand anyone feeling such antagonism toward their sibling. “Whether you get along with him or not, he’s still part of your family.”
Creed grunted. “The worst part.”
Choosing her words very carefully, Sasha met his piercing gaze head-on. “You’re one of my best friends, Creed, and I place a lot of value on that friendship. But don’t ask me to choose sides. Whatever grievances you have with Blake are between the two of you. I have nothing to do with it.”
His mouth flattened into a straight line a moment before he nodded. “All I’m saying is, watch yourself around him, Sasha. He’s just like his mother. Bad news.”
Hoping to lighten the moment, she grinned. “He’d probably tell me something similar about you. Now, why don’t you go back to your office and do something productive while I get back to work?”
Long after Creed had left her alone, Sasha wondered what could possibly have caused the siblings to be at such odds. The two older Fortune brothers, Case and Creed, made no secret of the fact that they had no use for their younger brother. And from everything she’d seen and heard, the feeling was more than mutual. Blake had even gone so far as to leave Dakota Fortune, the multibillion-dollar corporation their grandfather had founded, to build his own empire in the South Dakota gaming industry. As far as she knew, he still maintained his shares of stock in Dakota Fortune and was a member of the board of directors, but had nothing to do with running the enterprise.
Leaning back in her leather desk chair, she stared at the entry she’d just put into her planner. It appeared the hostilities between the Fortune brothers were escalating and they expected those around them to choose sides in their battle of wills—something she had no intention of doing.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure how she was going to avoid it. She was good friends with one brother and the other brother had always had the ability to make her feel as if the earth moved whenever he looked her way.
Sighing heavily, she shook her head as she opened the browser on her computer and keyed in a search for casinos in the Deadwood, South Dakota, area. When war broke out between Creed and Blake it could very easily destroy whoever got in the way. She needed to keep that in mind and make sure that she wasn’t the one caught in the middle when it all came to a head.
Blake sat in the back of his corporate limo at the small private airfield just outside of Deadwood as he waited for his pilot to taxi his Learjet up to the tarmac. After talking with Sasha, he’d spent the past couple of days working with the contractors and decorators responsible for putting the finishing touches on his newest and most luxurious hotel casino yet.
He was determined to see that Fortune’s Gold was the premier place to stay in Deadwood and a welcome addition to his newly formed Fortune Casino Corporation. Along with the Belle of Fortune, his hotel casino decorated like an 1880s riverboat, and the Lucky Fortune, a family friendly establishment where parents could drop off their kids at a supervised indoor playground while they gambled without worry, he would be able to successfully offer something to suit everyone’s tastes and needs.
Mentally reviewing what still needed to be done, he concluded that he only had a couple of more details to nail down, then he’d have the rest of the weekend to concentrate on Sasha and his mission. He’d told her the truth about his PR man being on leave of absence because of his wife having a set of twin girls. He had, however, omitted that the man had only taken the time off because Blake had insisted on it. A promotional campaign for Fortune’s Gold wasn’t the real reason behind his calling Sasha or his wanting her to join him for the weekend in Deadwood.
When Blake had attended his oldest brother Case’s wedding reception back in February, he’d noticed that Sasha had been Creed’s date. Then, thinking back on it, Blake remembered seeing her with Creed at several functions and family gatherings over the past year. It was clear there was something going on between the two of them and spoke volumes of how special Sasha was to Creed. Blake knew for a fact that his brother was notorious for never dating the same woman more than a few times before he moved on to his next conquest. But Creed obviously felt differently about Sasha and that was what Blake found more than a little interesting. And quite useful.
Sasha had been a freshman when he’d been a senior in high school. Although they hadn’t been friends, Blake had a photography class with the shy auburn-haired girl and could have sworn she’d had a crush on him. To his recollection, they’d never spoken back then, but several times he’d caught her watching him, and when his gaze had locked with her pretty green eyes, Sasha had turned several shades of red and glanced away. But in recent years she’d apparently gotten over her schoolgirl crush and turned her attention toward snaring the middle of the Fortune brothers.
Blake smiled. It was past time he rectified that situation and reclaimed what was rightfully his.
When the pilot brought the jet to a halt several feet from the limo, then lowered the door, Blake got out of the car and walked over to offer Sasha his hand as she descended the built-in steps. The moment her soft, delicate palm touched his, a jolt of electric current zinged straight up his arm.
“It’s good to see you again, Sasha,” he said, dismissing the sensation as some kind of static electricity.
Once she was standing on the pavement beside him, he pulled her into his arms for a lingering hug. When he felt her slender body shiver against him, he concentrated on keeping his expression passive. No sense giving away his intentions before he had the opportunity to ensure their success.
“Did you have a nice, uneventful flight?”
Stepping back, Blake could tell his familiar manner confused her, just as he’d intended. Good. Throwing her off guard and keeping her there was exactly what he wanted to do.
“Y-yes, the flight was blessedly calm.” The slight blush on her porcelain cheeks was an encouraging sign and he was confident his plan was going to go off without the slightest hitch.
“I’m glad. At this time of year, turbulence can be a problem.”
The early April sun shone weakly through a bank of clouds, but did little to take the chill from the stiff breeze ruffling the soft auburn curls that had escaped the tight knot of hair at the back of her head. Turning her toward the limo, Blake slipped his arm around her shoulders on the pretense of shielding her from the wind and motioned for his driver to take care of her small travel case.
“Let’s get you into the car before you freeze,” he said, ushering her over to the long, black sedan.
She drew her coat a little closer as they walked the short distance. “It is rather chilly.”
Once they were comfortably seated inside the warmth of the limousine, it wasn’t lost on him that she scooted all the way across the bench seat to the other side. He clearly made her nervous and Blake had a good idea why. There was no doubt in his mind that bastard, Creed, had warned her to be wary of him.
“We’ll go on to Fortune’s Gold from here,” Blake said, deciding