“Then what is it?” Kendall probed. “It better not be Wayne because if you’re going to let that creep—”

“It’s not him. And I’m fine, really,” she lied, embar-rassed to let her sister know how rattled she was, how hard it was to quell that horrible feeling that he was spying on her, controlling her, even after all these months.

Kendall studied her with those perceptive hazel eyes. Then her mouth softened. “Nothing’s going to happen. You know that, right?”

“Right.” She wouldn’t let it. No matter how badly she’d mucked up the past, she owed her daughter a safe and stable life. Heck, she owed it to herself. She’d endured a hellish marriage, the terror of being stalked.

Now she was done with the past, done with the paranoia and fear—and on to a much better life.

She straightened her shoulders, tugged the hem of the tight red minidress Kendall had insisted she wear and tried for a lighter tone. “But getting arrested for indecent exposure isn’t exactly what I need right now. Are you sure this dress is legal?”

Kendall tossed back her head and laughed, her trademark exuberance drawing the gazes of passing men. “Mandy, this is Vegas. The place where anything goes.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“But nothing. That dress is fabulous—although I still say you should have lost that ugly purse. Now, come on,” she continued when Amanda opened her mouth to defend the huge, battered bag. “Lighten up. This is your lucky night out, remember?”

“Luck. Right.” She latched on to Kendall’s arm, turned toward the arched entrance to the famed Janus casino. “But walk slowly. I’m not used to these skyscraper heels.”

“You’re not used to having fun. Which is exactly why we’re here. You’re going to let loose for once—gamble, meet some hot men, have a ball.”

Amanda grimaced. She had no intention of meeting men, hot or otherwise. She knew her limits too well. But Kendall was determined to light up the town, and the least she could do was try.

“Wait until you see this lobby,” Kendall added as they walked by a gleaming Bentley, then climbed the marble steps. “You’re going to love it. It’s right up your alley.”

“My alley? Since when is gambling my thing?” She’d never placed a bet in her life.

“You’ll see.” The uniformed doorman swung the door open, and Kendall shot Amanda a knowing smile.

Amanda dutifully followed her inside. She gave herself a mental pep talk, tried to resist that constant urge to scan the crowds and monitor her surroundings for Wayne—a habit born of the need to survive. But she didn’t need to worry about Wayne anymore. And she was not going to let him ruin this night.

She stepped past the doorway into the lobby, looked up and abruptly stopped. A huge, vaulted ceiling soared above her. Beneath it towered an enormous stone aqueduct, its trilevel arcades a marvel of ancient times.

“Oh, my,” she murmured, and every thought of Wayne fled her mind. Captivated, she twirled in a circle, ignoring the people streaming around her, intent on absorbing every detail—the statues of Roman emperors, the decorative medallions and columns, the chariot perched on a marble dais.

“I told you,” Kendall said while Amanda still gaped, trying to take it all in.

“You were right.” This place was amazing. Fabulous. She felt as if she’d been dropped into ancient Rome.

Her gaze lingered on the colorful murals, the display of early black-glazed pottery, and the closet archaeologist in her thrilled. Whoever designed this place deserved an award. She couldn’t believe how authentic it looked.

A woman brushed past, jostling her, and Amanda staggered to stay on her feet. She knew that she needed to move, that she was blocking the entrance, but she couldn’t seem to budge. She wanted to absorb every-thing—the gurgling fountains, the flickering torches on the walls, the lions pacing restlessly behind glass. Lions. She shook her head, incredulous. This place was unreal.

Then her eyes settled on a plaster relief of Janus, and the tight ball knotting her belly began to slide loose. Janus, the Roman god of doorways and gates, endings and beginnings—the perfect symbol for her new life.

And for the first time in ages a sliver of optimism surged inside her, a longburied glimmer of hope. She really was going to be all right here. She’d find a new job. Her daughter would thrive. She’d finally find the peace she deserved.

She smiled then, inhaling the soothing scent of moisture from the splashing fountains, the heavenly aroma of roses and gladioli brimming from urns. Still smiling, she turned to join her sister. The tang of a man’s aftershave teased her nose.

Wayne’s aftershave.