Grover Swank, Denise - [The Wedding Pact 3] - The Gambler by Denise Grover Swank

Author:Denise Grover Swank [Swank, Denise Grover]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: DGS
Published: 2015-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Noah paced the room, waiting for Libby to emerge from the bathroom. She’d been in there for forty minutes. And while she’d taken a shower, she didn’t usually spend much time on makeup or fixing her hair. She didn’t need to. Libby was a natural beauty—inside and out.

He hated that most of the men she’d known hadn’t looked much beyond her beautiful face and body. Had he done the same thing at first? He gave himself a serious self-examination and concluded that while her physical appearance had grabbed his attention, it was her personality that had made him want to see her again.

He’d never met a woman like Libby St. Clair, and he was positive he never would again.

He sure as hell hoped this plan to make her see him in a different light worked.

“Lib,” he called through the door. “How much longer are you going to be?”

“I’m not feeling well. I think I should stay in tonight. You go ahead without me.”

A momentary twinge of concern seized his stomach, but he pushed it away when he took into account that she’d protested vehemently about wearing the black dress. He had no idea what it looked like, Gram had held it in a wadded-up ball, but Libby—who was never embarrassed about anything she wore, wedding dress in a steak house aside—didn’t want him to see her wearing it.

There was no way in hell she would get away without showing him.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he answered. “Get out here. The blackjack tables are calling our names.”

She didn’t answer but the door cracked open an inch.

“Come on, Lib. How bad could it be? If you look like a clown, you can change. I promise.”

“It might make me look like I’ve made an unwise career choice, but I don’t think it’s a clown you have to worry about.” The door opened more and she stepped out into the doorway.

She stood still, shifting self-consciously. Something in his brain registered that she was acting out of character—other than the wedding dress, he’d never seen her self-conscious—but all the blood that usually went to the reasoning part of his brain had rushed to his crotch.

She grimaced. “That bad?”

He still couldn’t answer. He couldn’t do anything at all except stare at her. From Libby’s reaction to Gram’s demand, he’d suspected it was a sexy cocktail dress, but nothing could have prepared him for this—a sleeveless black dress that clung to every sexy curve, the hem hitting her mid-thigh. And the neckline . . . oh, God. The neckline. The V dipped below her breastbone, cradling the sides of her breasts like he longed to do with his hands. Something in his head signaled him to lift his eyes from her cleavage to her face, but that view was just as enthralling. She’d put on more makeup than usual and had made her eyes smoky and her lips red and shiny. Her hair was in a loose up-do, similar to the one she’d worn on her wedding

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