Millionaire of the Month: Devlin Campbell
Source of Fortune: Family-owned bank
Motto: Do the right thing
Buttoned-up banker Devlin Campbell prided himself on his control. That one passionate night in Atlantic City had been an aberration, but one with lasting consequences: his mystery woman was pregnant. Now that he'd found her--thousands of miles away--Dev approached Nicole with a most decent proposal. But would their ardent beginning allow these virtual strangers to forge a bond that was more than skin deep?
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
May 07, 2007
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Bound by the Baby by Susan Crosby
Where was Ms. Fortune when he needed her?
Devlin Campbell studied his surroundings, his equilibrium challenged by the garish neon lights and incessant slotmachine noise. This time he couldn't win at the blackjack table, not one hand. He wasn't superstitious, wasn't blaming his losses on his former lucky charm not being at his side. He knew it was, instead, that sly culprit, jet lag.
And so instead of focusing on the cards, he found himself watching the people milling around, even though there was no reason to continually search the casino for her...Ms. Fortune. Nicole. After all, he'd met her on the other side of the country, ships passing in the night--or more appropriately in this case, ports in a storm, finding comfort and refuge in each other's arms for reasons neither of them had confided. He hadn't experienced another night like it, before or since, although he'd gone back twice, hoping...
Yeah, jet lag. With the three-hour time difference in Philadelphia, he'd already put in a full day. Not to mention the fourteen-hour days he'd been working the past month in preparation for this trip.
Dev watched the dealer dispense the cards, then turn up a king for himself. Dev looked at his hand--seven and five.
He didn't know why he'd come to the casino in the first place. The refrigerator at the lodge where he was supposed to stay had been stocked by an attractive, efficient young woman named Mary, who'd met him with a key dangling off an ornate keychain. He could've heated up one of the meals from a local restaurant she'd thoughtfully provided, then gone to bed. Instead he hadn't even unpacked, hadn't taken time to tour the spectacular log house.
"Hit or stay, sir?" the dealer asked, awaiting Dev's decision.
He signaled for a hit. A queen landed on his cards. Twentytwo. Loser. It wasn't a word associated with the name Devlin Campbell. Ever.
Dev scooped up his few remaining chips and left the table, in need of food. He'd spotted a sports bar earlier where he could order from the bar. He would eat something quick and simple, then go back to the lodge and sleep for at least twelve hours.
The televisions were tuned to a baseball game between his beloved Phillies and the San Francisco Giants. He ordered a beer and checked out the menu, deciding on a burger and fries. He lifted the frosty glass set before him and scanned the room. A woman walked past the entrance. A woman wearing a Sterling Palace uniform. A woman who reminded him of--
Beer sloshed over his hand as he thumped his glass onto the bar, then rushed out. He could see her maybe twenty feet ahead, moving at a quick, steady pace. The same long, shiny, legs that had wrapped around him and held tight.
"Nicole!" he called.
She turned, looked straight at him, hesitated, then picked up speed. What the hell? She was trying to get away? Why? He posed no threat. He hadn't even learned her last name. Not that it mattered, since he hadn't been on a second date or spent a second night with a woman in the past couple of years, no matter how beautiful or sexy.
Except...he'd wanted to have a second night with Nicole, who had been one passionate handful, as intense as he, assertive and demanding in a way that had made him forget everything else that night.
Even the letter.
He caught up with her, cupped her elbow. She had no choice but to stop.
"Are you in training for a marathon?" he asked. His gaze slid to her name badge: Nicole, Sacramento, California. He'd had no idea she was an employee of the Palace. She hadn't been wearing a uniform when they met, but jeans, a dark sweater and boots with heels high enough to bring her close to his height. He'd tugged them off her, then her jeans, exposing knock-out legs...
"Oh, hi," she said. "Um..."
"Devlin," he supplied, surprised. She'd forgotten? "January? Atlantic City?"
She tugged her jacket together, freeing herself of his grip at the same time.