Travis had Christine in the palm of his hand last night. She had been so attuned to his body that they moved as one on the dance floor without thinking about it. It was obvious that she didn’t want the night to end, yet she went to her hotel room alone. Today she’d refrained from touching him, as if she’d been having second thoughts. He had felt her hot gaze on him, had caught the yearning looks before she glanced away, but she’d kept her distance all morning and afternoon. It had been agony to be on his best behavior all day, Travis thought as he watched Christine feed another dollar into the slot machine. He knew he had to keep moving to avoid Pitts and Underwood, but all he really wanted to do was stop time, find a private corner and pull Christine back into his arms. “It’s official. Lady Luck hates me,” Christine announced as she raised her hands and glared at the slot machine. “That’s all there is to it.
