by V. K. Sykes
“You’ve got a point there,” he said with a chuckle. “A sunburn would suck.”
Relief swept through her. “Okay, then. Shall I meet you at your place? That way we don’t have to be seen on the cameras together.”
“That’s smart. Why don’t you come over about eight-fifteen? I’m working till six, and then I’ll head over to the hospital and spend some time with Mom.”
“We can meet later if you want to stay with your mother longer. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, but it’s fine. The nurses will kick me out around eight, anyway.”
“What’s your address? And how long will it take a cab to get there from the hotel?”
He chuckled again. “About four minutes at that time of the evening. We’re just off Flamingo, west of the Strip.” He gave her the street address.
“I can’t wait to see you,” Sadie said. In fact, her entire body practically quivered as she contemplated the prospect of having Nick all to herself for an entire night.
“Sadie?”
“Yes?”
“Try not to break the bank today.” His tone held no trace of humor.
“Um, sure. Bye, Nick.” She put the phone away and headed into the casino, making a determined effort to ignore the inner voice that told her trouble might lay just over the horizon.
* * *
Inviting Sadie to dinner had been a necessary ruse. While Nick had planned to see her tonight anyway, the call had also been an excuse to find out her plans for the afternoon. He had no intention of staring at the bank of surveillance screens for hours unless he had to.
But she’d left him no choice. He’d had to bite back his disappointment—and maybe a little anger—when she joked about her plans for beating the house. If only she were going to hit the pool, or go shopping, or take a tour—anything other than blackjack—it would have eased his mind.
The fact that Sadie was going to play blackjack didn’t confirm the chief’s suspicions. Not by a long shot. She was smart, and probably just enjoyed the mental challenge. He had no good reason to suspect her of counting cards. Sure, cheats could put on convincing acts. But if Sadie Bligh really had snowed him that easily, he should find a new line of work. No way could her stumbling, bumbling disaster the other night have been an act.
He gazed absently at the bank of monitors, ignoring the quiet hum of activity in the operations center. The word that kept coming to mind when he thought about Sadie was innocence. She was the polar opposite of calculating and deceiving—the qualities every cheat had to have. Sadie had a natural, unpracticed sweetness that belied the deviousness of a card counter. Besides, Nick didn’t believe any counter would talk like she did. They were mostly super smart like her, yes—but not walking dictionaries. Counters were savvy enough not to draw attention to themselves with quirks that would make them stand out in the Vegas crowds.
So, he’d zero in on her table and watch her for the whole damn afternoon if he had to. Carson had given him a direct order, and he was in no position to ignore it or be anything less than diligent in carrying it out. Michael Webb had confirmed Nick’s fears. If Carson had reason to go after him, Webb was not going to be able to save his ass.
The thought of getting fired was truly unnerving. His mom’s only source of support other than him was his dad’s Marine pension, and that wasn’t nearly enough to cover the costs of her home care or a top-notch care center. Besides, Nick couldn’t bear the thought of putting her in a facility one second before he had to—not until he and Carmen could no longer provide the care she needed. His mother was still young—she would be in her early “golden years” if it weren’t for the goddamn Alzheimer’s. The thought of putting her in some facility with locked wards, full of patients twenty and thirty years older, made Nick’s gut clench every time he thought about it.
He’d been lucky to land a job that paid him enough to cover his mother’s home care. If he lost his position, he knew he’d have a hell of a time finding another one nearly as good.
Time to get to work.
Straightening in his chair, he focused his attention on the imposing array of forty-eight LED screens opposite the console where he and three other security staff were seated. Twenty-four more screens hung on the wall to his left. The hotel and casino employed more than four hundred cameras to monitor both the gambling and non-gambling areas. Each screen rotated four to five camera views. Operators could choose to fix any camera on a screen, or to bring the image directly to the console in front of him or her.
Nick focused on cameras 35 to 45—the ones that blanketed the blackjack pit. He scanned the images on the screens until he spotted Sadie at a hundred dollar minimum table. Shock made him blink. She was playing a hundred buck table? His little firecracker obviously wasn’t fooling around. He zoomed the camera’s image until her face became clear, so clear he could see the light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
She was laughing, bantering with a young, lanky guy holding the anchor position next to her. A stab of jealously dug into his chest, which annoyed the hell out of him.
Come on, Saxon, get a grip. Sure, you like her, but she can’t be more than a fling.
He reached for his rapidly cooling cup of high-test Starbucks and settled in to watch. Twenty very interesting minutes later, Nick knew for certain that Sadie Bligh was no rookie at blackjack. She played the basic strategy perfectly, never straying from the system. Whether it was a double down, a split or a hold with a twelve, she never made a mistake. By the end of the first hour, she’d more or less broken even. Though she played like a pro—a fact that shouldn’t surprise him, given how smart she was— Nick saw no indication that she was counting cards. He even started to relax a little.
But shortly after that, her betting pattern changed. Instead of one or two hundred-dollar chips, she was pushing forward varying stacks of four to six. Nick leaned forward, as if getting closer to the monitor would make a difference. Every one of his Marine instincts went on full alert.
Fuck.
For the rest of that shoe, Sadie won six hands and lost three. Nick estimated she was up close to two thousand dollars in practically the blink of an eye. As the dealer began to restack the shoe, Sadie gathered up her chips and headed to another hundred dollar table farther down the row.
Nick switched to camera 42. As he continued to monitor her play, he knew exactly what was happening, but his mind rebelled at the reality staring him in the face. How could sweet, goofy Sadie Bligh be a card counter? Yet he saw the evidence with his own eyes, all the telltale marks. Her amateurish attempts to mask her counting hadn’t fooled the pit bosses, and it sure wasn’t fooling him.
His stomach landed somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. This couldn’t be the first time for her—she was too skilled. But her name and face hadn’t come up when he’d searched the database of known counters and other cheats. So, how the hell had she escaped notice?
None of it made any sense. From the moment he met Sadie, Nick had pegged her as just another young woman looking for a good time on a Vegas vacation. Hell, she’d told him that herself in no uncertain terms. Plus, she’d dropped that invitation about keeping a close eye on her. What kind of card counter would do that? It was the weirdest damn thing he’d ever seen.
“How’s she doing?”
Nick had been so deep in thought that Carson had somehow managed to creep up from behind without Nick sensing it. Now that Carson stood over him, he almost choked on the stink of cheap cigars that clung to his boss’s clothes.
He’d obviously come to gloat.
“She’s up some,” Nick replied, swiveling his chair so he faced his boss. “You were right about monitoring her, Chief. But I need more time before I can give you a definite answer. I want to be absolutely sure about this.”
Carson rolled his eyes. “Color me surprised. All right, Saxon, but you sure as shit better do something by tomorrow. We don’t want the bimbo taking any more of our money, now do we?”
“
No, we don’t.” Nick turned his back, making it clear the conversation was over. He couldn’t stand the bastard’s overbearing attitude, and he couldn’t stand that he was probably right.
* * *
Sadie practically skipped down the long hotel corridor toward her room. She’d won almost five thousand dollars in less than five hours, and God, it made her feel lighter than air. Her only worry was that maybe she’d gotten a little reckless at times. She’d probably bet more heavily than she should have when the shoes got hot. But, for some reason, the pit bosses on duty seemed to be mostly ignoring her today, and that had led her to take more risks. Tomorrow she would be more careful, but right now she intended to enjoy every moment of her success.
If her friends back in Chicago, or especially her father, could have seen her in action this afternoon, they would have fainted in horror. Professor Sadie Bligh, math genius, counting cards in a Vegas casino. It should horrify her too, but it didn’t. For the first time in a long while, she was having fun. Kick-ass fun, too, not the tepid variety she usually experienced. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her date with Nick, she’d have gladly glued her butt to a chair and gambled all evening and into the early morning hours. But even the incredible rush of winning at blackjack couldn’t compare to her excitement at spending the evening—and hopefully the night—with the sheriff.
In less than half an hour, she’d showered, washed her hair, and blown it dry. Back home, she’d never really cared when her sometimes unruly locks made it look like she’d done her hair with an egg beater. But tonight, as she eyed herself critically in the bathroom mirror, her stomach clenched at her image. She really needed to find a good stylist—someone who could figure out what to do with red, corkscrew curls that just wouldn’t quit.
Still, she hadn’t looked a whole lot better yesterday evening, and Nick had treated her like a goddess. What the man saw in her remained a mystery. It sure couldn’t be her looks that had snagged his attention, not given the kind of women that likely threw themselves in his path on a regular basis. Maybe it was her winning vocabulary, she thought wryly, or perhaps he had a thing for the terminally uncoordinated.
Cassie’s warning to be careful darted into her head, and she sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, trying to think it through. Was she putting herself at risk by spending so much time with Nick? As much as she’d like to deny it, she was developing feelings for him, and that made her nervous. Particularly because it didn’t make sense that a man like him would be attracted to a woman like her.
Exhaling impatiently, she ordered herself to stop analyzing Nick’s motives. She’d come to Vegas to see if a wild week could somehow turn her life in a new direction, and so far it had been a smashing success. Using her brain and her newfound nerve to beat the house at blackjack felt damn good. Maybe not as good as winning the Eagleton Prize, but empowering, nonetheless. And having a mind-blowing, completely unexpected affair with a man like Nick Saxon—however brief it might turn out to be—was going to change her forever. She couldn’t imagine going back to the kinds of relationships she would have settled for in her old life.
Sadie rushed out of the bathroom and began rummaging around in her suitcase, suddenly burning with eagerness to be with Nick. Last night, she’d almost felt like a virgin. Technically, she’d had intercourse with Sheldon and two other men. But that hadn’t been sex. Sex was what Nick did to her in that massage room, in the sauna, in the pool, and in her bed. And what she’d done to him. Sex made you tingle and ache with wanting. It made you sizzle and burn with passion, crying out with need and glowing with satisfaction when it was over.
She imagined him with her right now, maybe in the bathroom as she tried to style her unruly hair. He’d come up behind her and bend her over the sink, sliding into her and then screwing her till her hair went straight.
Choking with laughter at the image, she fell onto the bed. Sadie couldn’t believe she actually said that, even if it was just in her head. She had Nick partly to thank for her new found courage, and she wanted to be with him, regardless of the risk. Losing the Eagleton Prize had pretty much blown up her orderly and careful life, so nothing that happened now could be anywhere near as disastrous.
She had come to Las Vegas to take chances, and that was exactly what she intended to keep doing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sadie paid off the cabbie, giving him a big tip to compensate for the short ride from the Desert Oasis. Stepping out of the cab, she scanned the front of the small house set back from the quiet street. The bungalow could only be called modest, though its central location near the Strip held obvious appeal. But it was pretty and tasteful. Painted in forest green and cream, it had a Spanish tile roof in a faded terra cotta tone and a well cared-for front yard. Two tall trees dominated the front of the house, and a few shrubs and a smattering of flowers had been planted in beds on both sides of the front door. Nick’s SUV took up most of the single car driveway.
She hurried up the brick walk, smiling as Nick opened the screen door. “Eight-fifteen on the dot,” he said, his eyes warm and welcoming. “I had a feeling you like to be on time.” He took her hand and helped her up the step and into the narrow foyer.
“You have excellent insight into my character, Sheriff. Either that, or it’s pathetically apparent how much I’m looking forward to this evening and couldn’t wait to get here.”
He laughed. “I’ll try not to disappoint you.”
No chance of that, she thought as she looked him up and down. He was wearing the same type of low-slung, sexy jeans he’d had on at the spa. Only this time the button was done up, and a black cotton tee shirt was loosely tucked inside the jeans. Barefoot, he looked casual, relaxed, and totally yummy. It was all she could do to keep her hands to herself.
She’d thought hard about how she should dress for the evening, and had finally decided on laid-back casual. Unfortunately, her choices were limited, since she hadn’t packed much that would fall into that category. So, she’d opted for the jeans and sandals she’d worn to the casino that afternoon, but added a glittery silver top that didn’t quite make it all the way to the top of the hipsters. She felt sexy, and from the way Nick looked at her, she had a hunch he thought so, too.
He shut the screen door and pulled her into his arms. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” he murmured as he kissed her neck.
Sadie’s heartbeat kicked up several notches. “Ah, I expect that’s a gross exaggeration.” She searched for something else to say, but came up dry. What was it about Nick that either reduced her to babbling, or tied her tongue up in knots? She hoped she’d get over that reaction soon, or else he would think she was some kind of idiot.
Fortunately, he had something else in mind besides conversation. His warm mouth found hers, and her lips parted easily in response. He deepened the kiss, their tongues playing a slow, arousing dance while his hands traced intricate patterns of pleasure along her spine and down over her bottom. She broke away on a gasp, relishing his clean masculine scent and the feel of his hard muscles under the soft fabric of his shirt.
After one last quick nuzzle of her mouth, Nick took a step back. “You must be hungry, so we should start cooking before I drag you off to the bedroom and have my evil way with you. The kitchen’s in back and I’ve already fired up the barbecue.”
Sadie sighed. She was starving, but would have gladly delayed the steaks indefinitely for an extended tour of Nick’s bedroom. Still, she should try to preserve just a wee bit of her dignity and stop acting like a sex-crazed maniac whenever he touched her. Besides, this was like a real date, and people on dates should talk. Get to know each other. As much as she wanted him to have his evil way with her, she was curious—very curious—to know more about Nick Saxon. “Good point. Show me the veggies and I’ll get chopping.”
It turned out he had a well-stocked kitchen—one that looked like serious cooking took place there. His set of professional quality knives caught her eye. Either Nick’s mom was st
ill compos mentis enough to cook, or Nick had at least some interest in the culinary arts. “You like to cook?” she asked as she opened the packages of vegetables and lettuce he’d arranged on the kitchen counter.
“Sure, but I keep it pretty simple,” he said, bending over to extract something from a bottom drawer. Sadie couldn’t help admiring his lean body, and his tight, masculine butt. She could swear her mouth was beginning to water, like some kind of demented poodle.
So much for dignity.
He straightened up, a corkscrew in his hand. “But Mom is a gourmet cook, and she taught me some stuff. After Dad died, we liked to do as many things together as we could. Cooking was something fun that gave us lots of time for conversation.” He popped the cork on a bottle of California Pinot noir.
“Can I ask how your father died, Nick?” She was reluctant to pry, but she’d been wondering if he’d been killed in action.
Nick waited until he had poured a glass for her, then one for himself. “In a car accident coming home from the base. He was only forty-one.”
She dropped the carrot she had just started to peel. “Oh, God! That’s so young. You must have been a child when it happened.”
“Fourteen,” he replied. His voice sounded casual, but she could see the tension in his shoulders. She knew what it was like to grow up without a parent, and knew the absence it left in a child’s life, a void that nothing could ever quite fill. Not even the parent who was left to pick up the pieces.
“I’m so sorry, Nick.”
“With Dad gone, I had to grow up fast. Mom and I kept each other going, so we became incredibly close. She tried her best to be both mother and father to me. And now I’m losing her, too.” His voice turned hard and almost bitter. “It’s happening slowly, but a tiny bit more every day. And I fucking hate it.”
