The Winning Hand by Nora Roberts Page A

still up close, she mused, in a delicate, almost ethereal, way. Big innocent eyes, a doll’s mouth, nervous hands.
    Not the type her son usually looked at twice, she reflected. She knew very well his taste generally ran to the long, lean and, in her opinion, somewhat brittle sort of woman. She also knew him well enough to be sure he rarely, very rarely lost his temper over one.
    “Mac did ask me not to come down to the casino alone at night.”
    Serena arched a brow. “I can’t see that he’d have any right to do that.”
    “No, but … he’s been so kind to me.”
    “I’m glad to hear that.”
    “What I mean is, he really only asked me that one thing. It’s understandable he’d be angry I didn’t listen.”
    “It’s understandable he’d be angry because he’s used to getting his way.” Serena studied Darcy over the rim of her glass. “That’s not your problem.”
    “He feels responsible for me.”
    It was said in such a miserably depressed tone that Serena had to swallow a chuckle. She had an inkling her son felt a bit more than responsibility. “He’s always taken his responsibilities seriously. Again, not your problem. Now, tell me everything.” She leaned forward, inviting confidences. “I’ve gotten it all second hand—either from what Mac told my husband or the papers. I want the whole story, straight from the source.”
    “I don’t know where to start.”
    “Oh, at the beginning.”
    “Well.” Darcy contemplated her wine, then risked another sip. “It was all because I didn’t want to marry Gerald.”
    “Really?” Delighted, Serena inched closer. “And who is Gerald?”

    An hour later, Serena was fascinated, charmed and feeling sentimentally maternal toward Darcy. She’d already decided to extend her quick trip to several days when she covered Darcy’s hand with hers. “I think you’ve been incredibly brave.”
    “I don’t feel brave. No one’s ever been as kind to me as Mac has, and I’ve made him so angry. Mrs. Blade—”
    “I hope you’ll call me Serena,” she interrupted. “Especially since I’m going to offer you some unsolicited advice.”
    “I’d appreciate some advice.”
    “Don’t change anything.” Now Serena squeezed Darcy’s hand. “Mac will deal with it, I promise you. You be exactly what you are, and you enjoy it.”
    “I’m attracted to him.” Darcy winced then scowled down at her empty glass. “I shouldn’t have had the wine. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re his mother.”
    “Yes, I am, and as such I’d be insulted if you weren’t attracted to him. I happen to think he’s a very attractive young man.”
    “Of course. I mean …” She trailed off, her eyes shifting up, then going wide. “Oh.” She barely breathed as she stared at the man who stepped up to the table. “You
are
the war chief.”
    Justin Blade flashed a grin at her, then slid into the booth beside his wife. “You must be Darcy.”
    “He looks so much like you. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare.”
    “The day I mind being stared at by a pretty young woman is the day life stops being worth living.”
    Justin draped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. He was a tall, lean man with black hair streaked with silver as bright as the table, and his eyes were green, sharp and deep in a tanned and weathered face. They skimmed over Darcy with both approval and interest.
    “Now I know what Mac meant about the fairy wings. Congratulations on your luck, Darcy.”
    “Thank you. It doesn’t seem real yet.” She glanced around the glittery lounge. “None of it does.”
    “Any plans for your new fortune? Other than giving us the chance to win some of it back.”
    She smiled now, fully. “Oh, he is like you. Actually, I seem to win a little every time I play.” She tried to make it sound apologetic, but spoiled it with a chuckle. “But I have put some back—into the shops and salons.”
    “A woman after my own heart,” Serena declared. “We do have wonderful