by V. K. Sykes
“You are a wicked man, Nick Saxon,” she whispered in a thready voice. “That wasn’t an orgasm—that was a supernova.”
His grin, combined with the rumpled black hair that stood up in short spikes from his head, made him look years younger than the gritty security officer who had seemed so dangerous yesterday. And a whole lot more fun.
“You’re welcome, ma’am. But don’t think we’re done here. That was just the appetizer.”
“I gathered as much,” she said, lifting herself onto one elbow as he rolled off the bed. Nick picked up his pants and fished out his wallet, quickly finding a purple foil packet.
A spurt of excitement jolted her spent nerves back to life. “I was certainly hoping you might have one of those.” She’d been on the pill during the Sheldon years, but went off it soon after he left for Switzerland. And she hadn’t brought any condoms to Vegas with her, which probably said more about her own lack of self-confidence than anything else.
No need to worry about that now.
“Marines are always ready for action,” Nick quipped.
As he ripped the top off the packet, Sadie heard the Marine Hymn blare out from somewhere close by. She blinked, and for a ridiculous moment her sex-dazed brain wondered if he’d bought some kind of specialty condom.
Nick gave a low curse. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I really have to take this call.” He grabbed his sport coat, ripping the cell phone from the inside pocket.
When he answered, his deeply furrowed brow told her this was no ordinary call. She sat up, suddenly anxious.
He spoke no more than three sentences to someone named Carmen, but it was enough to tell Sadie that Nick’s mother had a problem. Ending the call, he dropped the phone onto the bed and started to yank on his clothes.
“That was the woman who usually looks after my mother when I’m not there,” he said in a tight voice. “Mom’s had a pretty bad fall. She got up from bed without calling for help, and then stumbled on her way to the bathroom. Carmen called 911 before she called me, and the EMT’s were just arriving as we hung up. I’m going straight to the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry, Nick. I hope she’ll be all right.” Sadie almost asked if she could go with him. She ached that he had to leave her, but even more that he would have to go through a potentially difficult night alone. His mother had only him to depend on. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He looked up from buckling his belt and met her gaze. A slight smile eased the grim set of his features. “Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure she’ll be okay. She’s one tough lady. Marine wife, Marine mother.”
She winced at the anxiety in his voice, but knew better than to push. After all, what right did she have, anyway? She barely knew him.
Nick shoved himself into the rest of his clothes as fast as he could, then stuffed the cell phone back in his jacket.
“Take care of yourself,” she said, trying not to sound forlorn. “Call me if you get a chance, okay? I’ll worry if you don’t.”
He crossed swiftly to the bed and leaned over, caging her in his arms. “You don’t have to worry about anything, Sadie. I’ll call, because I always finish what I start.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sadie shot Cassie a disapproving glare as she picked at the Cobb salad she’d ordered for lunch in the casino’s outdoor cafe. “It really wasn’t funny at all.”
“Come on, Sade. You can’t blame me for laughing when I picture the sheriff standing there with his dick in his hand while his cell belts out the Marine Hymn.”
“Nice image, but wrong. It’s a special ring tone for emergencies involving his mother, so he’ll recognize those calls instantly.” Sadie wished she’d never confided in her friend. Cassie, as sweet as she was, sometimes seemed to lack an empathy gene. And she hadn’t meant to reveal so many details about last night’s sexual encounter either, but Cassie had harassed her until she said more than she should have.
“Relax. It’s not like the old lady died or anything,” Cassie said with a dismissive shake of her head. “You said it turned out to be just a sprained ankle.”
“No, I said a badly sprained ankle, and multiple facial contusions. Nick told me her face had swollen up like a purple balloon.”
His phone call at seven had woken Sadie from a turbulent sleep. Nick had just left the hospital after ensuring his mother would be moved from emergency to a room of her own, where she was expected to remain for at least a couple of days. He had sounded so weary that her heart had wrung for him.
Cassie wrinkled her nose in self-disgust. “You’re right. I’m a total bitch, and I promise to go to sensitivity training as soon as we get back home.”
“An excellent idea,” Sadie said, allowing a half-smile to let her friend know her apology had been accepted.
Cassie pushed her tortoise-shell sunglasses back on her face as a slash of sunlight washed over their patio table. “So, moving on to a more pleasant topic, we should try the topless pool at the Mirage this afternoon. The guys there have to be more interesting than the losers at Skin yesterday.”
Sadie didn’t relish the thought of disappointing her friend, but the last thing she wanted to do was spend another day lying around a pool with a few dozen horny guys staring at her breasts. Not after what she’d done with Nick last night. Not after the way he’d touched those very same breasts, and made love to them with his hot mouth and skilled hands. Somehow, exposing herself to strangers felt less right than ever. “Sorry, Cass, but I want to have another go at the blackjack tables today. Maybe I can keep this winning streak going.”
Cassie shrugged, looking bored and slightly annoyed. “Suit yourself. I guess now that you’ve bagged your man, you don’t need other guys checking out the merchandise.”
Sadie grimaced. “Delicately put, as always. But I hardly think I’ve bagged my man. I don’t even know if or when I’ll see Nick again.”
When he called her that morning, Nick hadn’t said a word about getting together again. But that was understandable—he’d been at the hospital all night, and it would have been completely insensitive of her to press him. Besides, he’d made a point of saying that he always finished what he started, and she took heart from that. She could only hope the interest he’d shown in her last night would hold up under the blazing light of day.
Cassie snorted. “Are you kidding? The way that guy looks at you, with those freakin’ midnight eyes? Take it from me, girlfriend—you’re going to see him again. Hell, if you want to know the truth, I’m a little pissed that your wild week looks like it’s going to turn into a shack up week with Dudley Do-Right, even if he is a stud. You’re supposed to be cutting loose, not getting it on with the law.”
Sadie crossed her fingers that Cassie had it right about Nick wanting to see her again. One taste of the sheriff had only served to whet her long-stifled appetite. But as for her wild week, she didn’t think she’d been doing too badly. “You’re worried about my not having a wild week? Okay, let’s see.” She started counting with her fingers. “One, I’ve been in Vegas less than forty-eight hours, and I’ve won three thousand dollars at blackjack. Two, I almost broke my neck and caused two major scenes. Three, I got thrown out of the casino and dragged away for questioning. Four, I bared my boobs in front of dozens of strangers. Oh, and five, I just had a cosmic orgasm with a guy I hardly know. For a geeky math professor, I’d say that’s reasonably wild.”
Cassie laughed. “Well, now that you put it that way…” She pointed a finger at Sadie. “But stop calling yourself a geek, because you’re not. You’re just not very experienced.”
Sadie returned her smile, trying to exude a confidence she knew would probably disappear the moment their plane landed back in Chicago. The moment she had to face the fact that she hadn’t won the Eagleton Prize, and that her career and her life were both stuck in neutral.
She thrust the unwelcome thought away. “And that’s what we came to Vegas to change, right?”
“Exactly. You g
o, girl.” Cassie gathered her things and rose from the table. “Since you’re abandoning me, I’m off to the Mirage by myself. Call me later this afternoon.”
“Sure.” Sadie signed off on their bill and followed Cassie through the glass doors that led back into the hotel. As Cassie headed for the exit, Sadie wandered down the arched center hallway of the Desert Oasis toward the casino.
As much as she loved her friend, Sadie relished the prospect of having the day to herself, especially after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She was having trouble sorting through her conflicting emotions—especially about Nick—and Cassie’s cavalier attitude was beginning to grate on her nerves.
And, as tacky as it might seem, the thought of a spending a full afternoon at the blackjack table held an irresistible, almost forbidden thrill. She knew that yesterday’s winnings could have been as much about luck as skill. Whatever it was, her success had sent an intoxicating rush through her that begged for a repeat performance. She’d never been good at anything but math and science—not relationships, not hobbies, not anything outside of her work. Figuring out blackjack wouldn’t exactly win her the Nobel Prize, but it felt incredibly good all the same. Yes, her father and her department colleagues back in Chicago would be horrified, but it was only for this one week. She would swear Cassie to silence before they went back home, and no one would ever be the wiser.
After all, that’s why they had come to Vegas in the first place, right?
She strode through a set of automatic glass doors and came to a halt just inside the casino proper. The bright sunshine of the Nevada noonday vanished, replaced by the never-changing twilight of the gambler’s paradise. Bells clanged from the slot machines, and loud voices called out encouragement over at the craps tables. An anxious excitement stirred low in her gut, and she had a fleeting moment of trepidation, almost like a warning fluttering across her senses.
A waitress with a loaded tray of drinks brushed by, breaking the spell. Sadie took a deep breath and pushed herself forward. The one thing she would not do was chicken out. She would not play it safe. That was what the old Sadie Bligh would do—cash in her three thousand, take it home and invest it in a bank term deposit. The new Sadie Bligh would lay it on the line and play until she lost it all, or it was time for her flight home, whichever came first.
As she crossed into the blackjack area, she noticed that the tables with low minimums were nearly full, while the high roller tables were sparsely occupied. Fortunately, the hundred dollar table she’d played last night was operating, and she breathed a little sigh of relief. Not that she harbored any superstitions, but she couldn’t help a little genuflection toward the gods of gambling luck. She always operated better in her comfort zone, and right now she was so far outside that zone that even a little thing like playing at the same table helped to steady her nerves.
Taking a middle seat, Sadie nodded to the dealer and her three tablemates. Scanning the pit area, she noticed a different boss from the one that had given her the evil eye last night.
Another good omen.
She won the first hand with an ace-jack, then proceeded to lose the next five straight. Another win, then three more bad hands that had her down six hundred dollars in less than fifteen minutes. It was hardly an auspicious beginning. If she’d started from scratch, she probably would have already fled the field of battle by now. But she reminded herself to have patience. Worst case scenario: she’d lose the three thousand and quit.
That uneasy feeling in her gut stirred again. At least I hope I’d have the sense to quit.
An hour passed quickly with more mediocre hands. She counted the cards meticulously, but shoe after shoe failed to go hot. As the dealers rotated, she glanced at her watch. Already four o’clock. Two hours had passed, and she’d managed to lose nine hundred dollars. She counseled herself to stay patient, but her cocky self-assurance from last night had evaporated. The pervasive gloom that had haunted her since the loss of the Eagleton threatened to steal into its place.
A new dealer came on, and he shoved the long stack of cards across the green felt, inviting her to make the cut. As Sadie stuck the marker into the stack, she glanced up to her left and her stomach dropped. Last night’s pit boss, Ms. Laser Eyes, had taken over—no doubt as a result of the four o’clock shift change, she noted with more than a little chagrin. But maybe her puny accumulation of chips today might make the woman less inclined to treat her with suspicion.
As long as Sadie continued to break even, the pit boss seemed content to stroll around the tables, her haughty glance resting briefly on each player. But finally a shoe got hot, and Sadie immediately doubled, and then tripled, her bets. Two shoes later, she got another hot one. Taking a deep breath and letting the excitement wash through her in a reckless surge, Sadie starting laying down four hundred-dollars at a time. Pit boss be damned. This was why she had come here, and she wasn’t about to back away now.
By six o’clock, her stake had grown to five thousand, and Ms. Laser Eyes looked ready to throttle her. When the young woman touched the wireless transmitter on her hip and spoke into her headset microphone, Sadie had no doubt she was the subject of discussion.
She picked up her chips, knowing it was time for a break. Reckless she might be, but there was no point in being stupid. After a quick trip to the restroom, she grabbed a Caesar salad at the casino deli, sat down at a table, and called Cassie. She tried both her room and her cell, but got voice mail both times. She wondered if Cassie had scored this afternoon at the Mirage pool. For both their sakes she hoped it was true. Cassie would be happy, and Sadie would be happy for her, and also a lot less guilty about leaving her on her own.
What didn’t make her happy was that Nick still hadn’t called, even though she’d given him her cell number. All afternoon, even while totally engaged at the blackjack table, she’d been nagged by a low-grade worry that he might leave her hanging. Her anxiety seemed entirely illogical when she dissected it— Nick had pursued her last night, after all—but that didn’t stop her stomach from twisting with insecurity.
Dammit. She hadn’t come to Vegas to stew about a guy, no matter how hot he was. She wasn’t going to let Nick or anyone else spoil her fun.
Throwing the rest of her salad in a trash container, she headed back to the casino. This time, she took the precaution of squeezing in at a different table, one with only a single seat vacant in the middle. Unfortunately, Ms. Laser Eyes spied her immediately. Sadie had read that a player who significantly changed his betting pattern in the middle of a shoe always triggered the attention of the dealer and pit boss. The only way she could see to possibly get them off her back for a while was to keep betting big amounts, regardless of the heat level of the shoe. So, she played every hand at four hundred, and started to kid around with the men on both sides of her as if she was just some feather-headed babe playing for a lark, not to win serious money.
The bimbo act made it harder to keep her concentration on the count, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her hot streak kept going, and by seven o’clock her winnings had increased to more than seven thousand. Another player at the table, an older man with a Stetson and a Texas accent, had won even more. Still, the pit boss remained far more interested in Sadie, often standing directly behind the dealer and glaring daggers in her direction. She didn’t know what she’d done to attract so much venom, but it was starting to seriously cut into her mood.
Staring down at her pile of chips, Sadie weighed her options, knowing she should probably just stop for the night. Or maybe even head down the Strip to another casino. But she didn’t want to stray from the Desert Oasis—not when she still hoped the sheriff would come riding in soon.
She pushed a fifty-dollar chip toward the dealer and was rewarded for the tip with a nod and a wry smile. As she got up, she searched for a table where the minimum bet was much lower, and spotted one chair open at a twenty-five dollar table at the far end of the pit.
At the new table, she
stuck to the basic strategy, betting the minimum every time. It bored her half to death, but she needed a break from the pressure of high-stakes betting and pit boss scrutiny. Maybe she wasn’t so great at the risk-taking, high roller life after all.
“Looks like somebody’s been doing some winning.” A warm breath caressed her ear as she registered the familiar deep voice.
“Sheriff!” She spun around in her seat to face him, the relief making her almost lightheaded. God, he looked good. Tall, broad-shouldered, and so masculine in jeans and a leather jacket. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the weariness in his eyes and the deep grooves around his mouth that signaled a whole lot of stress. “How are you?” she said anxiously. “How’s your mother?”
He stared at the stacks of chips in front of her, a slight frown marking his brow. “It could have been a lot worse. The doctor wants to keep her in the hospital for at least a few more days to run tests.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. I sure hope she’ll be okay.”
He nodded, finally looking at her. “She will be. Look, why don’t we go someplace where we can talk? Unless you don’t want to break your lucky streak.”
Sadie reached to scoop up her chips. The blackjack table drew her like steel to a magnet, but the choice between cards and Nick Saxon didn’t take any brain power to figure out. “I don’t know why I’ve been so lucky. Must be living right,” she replied, so happy she couldn’t help giving him a huge grin.
“Right. That must be it.”
The skeptical tone in his voice startled her. “Well, I can always come back later,” she said uncertainly. “Unless I get a better offer, of course.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She could hardly believe she’d just handed him a gold-embossed invitation to her bed. Holding her breath, she prayed he wouldn’t bat the offer back in her face.
His mouth still held to a compressed line, but his eyes flashed with heat. “I’ll see what I can come up with, Ms. Bligh.”
