Playing the odds by Nora Roberts Page A

open."
    "Alan and Caine?"
    Daniel gave a snort. "Who sees them?" he demanded. "It breaks your mother's heart that her children've forgotten their parents. Not one grandchild to bounce on her knee."
    "Inconsiderate of us," Serena agreed dryly.
    "Now, if Alan had married that pretty Judson girl…"
    "She walked like a duck," Serena reminded him bluntly. "Alan'll pick his own wife when he's ready."
    "Hah!" Daniel said again. "Got his nose buried down in D.C., Caine's still sowing oats he should've been done with, and you float around on some boat."
    "Ship."
    "Your poor mother will never live to hold her first grandchild." With a heavy sigh he lit one of the fat cigars Anna hadn't managed to confiscate.
    "Did you wake me up at six A.M. to lecture me about the procreation of the MacGregor line?"
    "That's nothing to curl your lip at, little girl. The clan—"
    "I'm not curling my lip," she-assured him, wanting to avoid a long, passionate diatribe. "And I plan to stay home awhile, so you can start bullying me after Sunday."
    "Now, is that any way to talk?" he demanded, offended. "Why, I've never so much as raised my hand to you."
    "You're the best father I've ever had," she said soothingly. "I'll buy you a case of Scotch in St. Thomas."
    "Well, now." Pleased with the idea, he softened, then remembered another promised case of Scotch and his main purpose for the predawn call. "Met any interesting people on the cruise, Rena?"
    "Mmm, I could write a book. I'm really going to miss the rest of the crew."
    "What about passengers?" he persisted. Daniel puffed on his cigar and tried his hand at smoke rings. "Get any real gamblers?"
    "Now and again." Her thoughts drifted to Justin, just as Daniel's did.
    "I suppose you've had your hands full with the men." She gave a noncommittal grunt and shifted to her back. One man anyway, she mused. "'Course there's nothing wrong with a bit of romance now and then," he added in a jovial voice. "Providing the man's got good blood and some starch. A true gambler has to have a sharp brain."
    "Would you feel better if I told you I was planning to run off with one?"
    "Which one?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.
    "No one," Serena returned firmly. "Now, I'm going back to sleep. Be sure to get rid of all that cigar ash before Mom gets home." Daniel scowled at the phone, then at the butt in his hands. "I'll see you and Mom Sunday. And by the way, I love you, you old pirate."
    "Eat a decent breakfast," he ordered before he hung up.
    Thoughtfully, Daniel leaned back in his massive chair. Rena had always been a tough egg to crack, he mused. As for Justin, well, if Justin Blade hadn't made it his business to spend a tropical evening or two in her company, then he wasn't the man Daniel thought he was. He tapped out his cigar, reminding himself to dispose of the evidence before Anna came home.
    Damned if he was wrong about Justin Blade! Daniel MacGregor knew the make of a man. He gave himself a moment's pleasure speculating about a black-haired, violet-eyed grandchild. A boy first, he decided. Though he wouldn't carry the MacGregor name—and that was a pity—he'd carry MacGregor blood. They'd name him after his grandfather.
    In a fine mood, Daniel picked up the phone, thinking he might as well badger his other children while he was at it.
    Chapter Five
    As much as she told herself it wasn't any of her business, Serena couldn't help wondering what Justin was up to. For two days she hadn't had a glimpse of him. During that time he hadn't set foot inside the casino. Nor had he been on the port side of the Promenade deck indulging in one of the private games, at least not when she just happened to stroll out there during her break.
    What, Serena demanded of herself as she prepared for her last free day of the cruise, was he doing? A gambler was supposed to gamble, wasn't he? He wasn't the kind to settle for a bingo game in the lounge.
    He's doing it on purpose, she decided as she buttoned up her scarlet romper. He's