Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgments
About the Author
If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases… Wrong Bed, Right Man
Rules of a Rebound
The Nanny Rules
Scoring with the Wrong Twin
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Katherine Garbera. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
10940 S Parker Rd
Suite 327
Parker, CO 80134
[email protected]
Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Brenda Chin
Cover design by Bree Archer
Cover photography by wundervisuals and Jenelle Jacks/GettyImages
Prostock-studio/Shutterstock
ISBN 978-1-64063-865-5
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition February 2020
Dear Reader,
Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
xoxo
Liz Pelletier, Publisher
This one is for Izzy and Wade—finally Courtney has some friends that I didn’t have to bribe. ;)
And for Lucas and Georgina who get each other completely and make everyone who sees them together smile. Also love to Burger. :)
Chapter One
He was back.
Again.
Zelda Quincy couldn’t ignore the man dressed all in black. He was over six feet tall and wore a black suit that hugged his muscled thighs and a fitted shirt that made him look lean and a bit mysterious. He had black hair that was cropped close to his head and a strong jaw.
She figured he had to either be a thief, the competition, or a magician looking for something. And since her shop sold one-of-a-kind, antique magic props, she was betting on the latter.
She made sure the register was locked, then walked straight toward him. He glanced up at her, those pale blue eyes of his so light against his tanned skin and dark hair that she hesitated for a moment. But she wasn’t about to let him stand outside her shop again.
This was day three.
She should have put a stop to it yesterday, but he’d intrigued her. And doing the same thing twice could be a coincidence, right?
But three times… That was a pattern.
She opened the door and stepped out. Her shop was housed on the corner of a retail strip just outside Las Vegas. She got a lot of high-end customers—which was why she had opened her shop here. But she also got her fair share of oddballs, so it paid to be careful. Still, this guy didn’t look like a weirdo.
But her best friend, Molly, said that weird and sexy weren’t mutually exclusive.
She wondered what Molly would make of this guy.
She lifted her cell phone and snapped a picture of him. The image didn’t capture the magnetism he had in real life. Up close, his eyes were even brighter and bluer, his hair was longer on the top than at the sides, and she noticed that his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a thick silver chain around his neck. He smelled like…well, not to be cheesy, he smelled crisp and clean, like the air after a rainstorm. And he was watching her carefully.
“I suggest you think twice about whatever it is you’re about to do here,” she said. “I have your photo, and I think…well, I think you should know I’m also a badass, so stealing from my shop isn’t going to be easy.”
“You think I’m a thief?” he asked.
His voice was low with a deep timbre like a bass guitar, surprising her. And though he hadn’t spoken loudly, there was a force to his words that made them echo in the back of her mind.
“Or a creeper.”
“Creeper?”
“Stalker… Dude, you’ve been standing in front of my shop for three days, and that’s straight-up odd.”
He gave a slight tip of his head, his mouth tightening. “Fair enough. I’m not here to harm you.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked, not dropping her guard for a second. There was an air of mystery about him, and he’d done nothing to dispel it. If anything, his voice had her even more intrigued.
“I was waiting for someone who stole something from me,” he said at last.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did they steal? And why would you be waiting outside my store?”
“Houdini’s water chamber. I read on your website that you would have one available this week,” he said.
The water chamber. She tried to ignore the shiver it sent down her spine. Houdini was big money in the antique magic business, which was why she’d purchased the item, among a number of other things. Normally, she listened to her gut and steered clear of anything involving water tricks. But she hadn’t been able to resist the lure of a big score.
“I will. I bought it on an auction site. I didn’t steal anything,” she said carefully.
“Who did you buy it from?” he asked.
“Elite Magic in London. I’m pretty sure they didn’t steal it from you, either,” she said.
He gave nothing away. She could tell he was very practiced at only showing her what he wanted her to see, and as much as she hated to admit it, she sort of admired that ability. She was an open book—anyone could tell what she was feeling. At one time, she’d known how to simply smile and conceal her thoughts, but that girl had died on a hot July day.
“All I know is my cabinet is missing and you have one for sale. It sounds like more than a coincidence to me.”
“Sounds like you’re grasping at straws,” she said. “Seriously, if you’re not buying anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Would you at least let me look at the cabinet when it comes in?” he asked. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“How?” she asked. Because she still wasn’t sure if he was shady or not. She’d never really liked men who gave nothing away. They reminded her too strongly of her father.
“Money,” he said. “Name your price.”
He snapped his fingers, and a business card appeared in them. He handed it to her.
Impressive.
A magician. She should have guessed it from his look, but she’d been away from that world for ages. The people who frequented her shop were hobbyists and amateurs. This guy was the real deal, and she hadn’t encountered someone like him in a very long time.
But she’d known a lot of magicians in her day, and it took more than a trick to wow her. Still, she had to admit, when she glanced down at the blank card and the name that only appeared when she shifted her wrist, she was a
tiny bit fascinated.
Nicholas Pine.
“The illusionist?” she asked. Molly had been trying to get tickets to take her eight-year-old son, Stetson, to Nicholas Pine’s new show since it had been announced, but every show for the first seven months was already sold out.
“Master Illusionist, actually. Price is no object. Just tell me how much you want,” he said.
There was an arrogance about him that made her want to take him down a peg or two. But was that him or because of her own history with magic? She didn’t want to examine that, preferring to shove her memories deep down and lock them away in a box she never opened.
But he did have something she wanted. Molly and Stetson were the closest thing she had to family, and rarely did she have a chance to give them something they both wanted.
“How about you give me a couple of tickets to your show in exchange for a look at the cabinet when it arrives?” she suggested. “And if you want to buy it, I’ll make you a fair deal?”
“Tickets?” he asked. “Why? It’s clear you’re not a fan.”
“How do you figure?”
“You thought I was a stalker,” he reminded her.
“Being famous doesn’t mean you can’t be a cray-cray,” she said with a wink.
“True. So, tickets for you and a guest?” he asked.
“No. Tickets for Molly and Stetson Saunders.”
“If you come to my show, I promise you’ll enjoy it,” he said.
She doubted that very strongly. The only thing seeing his show would do was make her face her deepest and darkest nightmares. And even for a hottie like Nicholas Pine, she wasn’t willing to do that.
“I don’t want to be greedy, but there aren’t any tickets available anytime in the foreseeable future except through scalpers,” Zelda said. “I’ll call you when the cabinet gets here.”
“You are an interesting woman… What’s your name?” he asked.
“Can’t read minds?” she quipped, then grinned at him. “Zelda. Zelda Quincy.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.
She reached out to shake it, and an electric tingle went up her arm. She held his hand for longer than she should have, and when she did break contact, she rubbed her thumb over her palm where their hands had touched.
“I look forward to your call,” he said, then vanished with a snap of his fingers in a cloud of smoke.
She stood there wondering if she’d imagined the entire encounter, but the card in her hand reassured her she hadn’t. She immediately went back into her shop and looked at the photo.
Nicholas Pine.
She’d always avoided magicians. She’d opened her shop using the few items left to her by her family mainly because most people didn’t have any knowledge of that world. Her shop was unique and enabled her to use the only thing she’d ever been good at without hurting anyone. Even herself. She knew that she should throw his card away and never think of him again, but she couldn’t. Despite herself, she was intrigued enough to want to see him again.
…
Nicholas walked away from Touch of Magic and Zelda as if he hadn’t just met a woman who blew his mind. She definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. Then again, he hadn’t been sure what he’d find when he went to her shop. She had seemed trustworthy and honest, but experience had taught him that there was usually more than met the eye.
Of course, it didn’t help matters that he’d made his life trying to impress people who were far above being awed. Still, she’d done something to him. That touch of her hand…
She was pretty—anyone would notice that, with her heart-shaped face and shoulder-length red hair streaked with gold. She had a forthright gaze, and her brown eyes reminded him of the deepest, most decadent kind of dark chocolate. Her wrist had been delicate, and, in his mind’s eye, an image of it wrapped in one of his chains had sprung unbidden. He really had struggled for a moment to keep his interest in her from going beyond the Houdini water chest that had been taken from him. The chest had disappeared just two months ago, when he’d debuted the illusion that would become the cornerstone of the new show he was putting together for the Jokers Wild Hotel and Casino. The antique was his talisman, his good luck charm. And since it had been taken, he felt edgy.
It was easier to focus on the woman than the missing chest. A part of him wanted to see her dressed like one of his assistants, in a form-fitting leather bodice with a short skirt and fishnet hose. He shook his head, knowing he had to get himself back under control.
Part of it was easy to explain—it had been more than a year since he’d broken up with Pamela, and he’d never been the type to indulge in meaningless sexual liaisons. God, if Casey Waltham or Dare Mitchell, his partners in the Jokers Wild and his best friends, could hear him right now, they’d be giving him shit for weeks.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he got to his car, a black Corvette Stingray. He sat in the driver’s seat and glanced back, but Zelda was gone, back in her shop, no doubt uploading his picture to some file that she could send to the cops if something suspicious happened.
He’d had all kinds of reactions from people since he’d become famous for his illusions, but never one quite like hers. Maybe that was what had sparked his interest, and that made her dangerous to him, threatening the balance he was always careful to keep inside.
He hit the speed dial on his phone as he drove toward the Jokers Wild. He was in the final stages of preparing his new show, and it was set to open in less than six weeks’ time.
The call was answered by Keely Miller.
“Nicholas, where are you? Leo is freaking out because he wanted to run the escape stunt this morning and you’re not here,” Keely said. Keely was the latest addition to his team. She was a tech-savvy computer expert who had proved to be adept at taking the stunts he and Leo designed and making them shine with computer effects. Still, he knew everyone was anxious about the show, not just Leo. He hadn’t been paying much attention, though. He’d been a bit off since he’d returned to Vegas, losing the chest had simply added to that feeling.
“I had to run an errand. I highly doubt Leo’s freaking out. He’s not the kind,” Nicholas said. Leo Mueller had been with Nicholas from almost the beginning. Even doing street magic required a team of illusionists, and Leo was very good at designing the tools Nicholas needed to pull off the most elaborate illusions. One of the best in the business at designing stunts, he’d been a mentor and father figure to Nicholas for most of his life.
“Okay, so I’m exaggerating slightly, but he’s definitely not happy having his schedule pushed back. And Trixie is needling him about not needing as many rehearsals if he’d just get with the times and use her computer-aided effects for some of the stunts,” Keely said. “And I’m just the low man on the totem pole—nobody cares what I think.”
Trixie Malloran was the producer of his show and his makeup artist. She’d joined his team shortly after he and Leo had started working together. Trixie had provided a little distraction in the early days on the street as well.
“Sounds like you have your hands full,” Nicholas said, knowing that Keely could more than handle the rest of the team.
Even though it was his name on the marquee, Nicholas would easily admit that without Leo, Trixie, and Keely, he would still be doing street magic. Their expertise gave his act the polish it needed to be Vegas worthy.
“I do. Plus, Talia is here with a photographer. She said you told her you’d do the promo shoot this morning,” Keely added.
“Damn. Sorry, Kee, I sort of forgot about that,” he said. This wasn’t like him. Losing the water chest had rattled him more than he wanted to admit. It had been gifted to him from his grandfather and had been instrumental in starting his journey in magic. Maybe the problem was that it had been taken right under his nose, out of his house when he’d been revealing a
new trick he’d perfected for his show. He hadn’t wanted to believe one of his rivals would stoop so low as to steal from him, but the world of illusion was a cutthroat one, with everyone guarding their secrets and trying to get an edge. He was beginning to believe the theft was deliberate. Someone knew how much the chest meant to him and wanted to wound him. There were less than a handful of people with that knowledge.
Also, he liked routine and habit. He had to have everything in its place. And tracking down his stolen property would probably be a job better left to the cops, as Casey had told him more than once. But this felt personal, and he had to handle this himself.
“Duh. I got that. When will you be here?”
“Ten minutes. I’m pulling into the parking garage now.”
“See you then,” she said, disconnecting the call.
Today was his day for ticking off women, he thought as he got out of the sports car and hit the lock button. Seconds later, someone roared up next to him on a Kawasaki Z750.
Dare Mitchell was one of his partners in the Jokers Wild. He was the son of the famous Kasabian “Kaz” Mitchell, a stuntman who had been the biggest, baddest thing on the back of a motorcycle until a crash had ended his career and his life. Now Dare was following in his father’s footsteps, but with a younger brother to look out for, Dare had made the decision to join him and Casey in the casino and set up a year-round stunt show to give Rio a permanent home.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dare asked as he took off his helmet and walked toward Nicholas.
“Right now, I’m late, Dare.”
“I mean with the girl at the magic shop. That’s, like, the third day—”
“Are you following me?”
“Yeah. Casey and I drew straws, and I got the short one.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been acting weirder than usual. And you are taking the loss of your magic box hard.”
Magic box. “It’s Houdini’s water chest. That would be like me calling Evel Knievel someone who’s good on his bicycle.”
“Sorry if it sounded like I didn’t respect your magic thing. We’re worried,” Dare said. “Don’t make me go all Dr. Phil here.”
Wild Nights Page 1
