by V. K. Sykes
“If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended.
Sadie shrugged her slim shoulders, looking unhappy. “It’s not what I want. But it’s what I think I need. What we both need.” She gave him a little smile that didn’t reach her eyes, then opened the door and hurried out.
Nick gave her a couple of minutes to clear the hallway before he went back out into the footprint of the security cameras.
Damn. Sadie was going to send him to the loony bin—or make him lose his job—but he still couldn’t keep away from her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sadie didn’t care about winning anymore. Amazingly, given how upset she was about the wreck of her evening, she was having too much fun as part of Tiny’s impromptu entourage to worry about whether she was winning, losing, or making Nick angrier than he already was. Around her third mojito, she even started having trouble keeping the numbers straight in her head. But she soldiered on, betting only the minimum, and managing to keep her stacks of chips from disappearing completely.
Tiny didn’t seem to care too much about winning either, since he’d dropped at least five thousand in the past two hours. Like her, he was clearly having a heck of a good time, telling stories that made Jennifer laugh and Sadie’s hair stand on end. But despite the outrageous stories and dirty jokes, Tiny remained a perfect gentleman and, as far as she could tell, a genuinely nice man. And he didn’t handle her with kid gloves, either. She found it refreshing to be treated like a normal, fun-loving adult instead of a naïve, sheltered math professor who didn’t know what was good for her.
For most of the night she managed to keep her focus on Tiny and the game, fighting off the constant temptation to grab a look behind her to where Nick stood gloomily propping up a marble column. When she did give in to the temptation and flicked a glance his way, his eyes narrowed, signaling his disapproval. Obviously, the sheriff wasn’t taking too kindly to the little lady demanding a time out from their relationship—if that’s what you could call it. Or hanging out with a so-called dangerous rapper.
Probably both.
She sighed, frustrated with Nick and with herself. She wanted so much to be with him, but not like this. The people in her life were always trying to control her, and she was sick of it. Nick Saxon could either learn that lesson or she would be forced to walk away. Unfortunately, that thought was so painful it made it hard to breathe.
Think about it tomorrow. Tonight, have fun.
Around one o’clock, Leroi took a call on his cell. He leaned over and whispered in Tiny’s ear, loud enough for Sadie to hear. “Time to elevate, Z. There’s a party going on in your room. Thirty deep and bangin’.”
Sadie got the gist.
Tiny nodded. He glanced first at Jennifer, then at Sadie. “Sweet ladies, Leroi thinks it’s time for me to go. But the good news is that the night doesn’t have to be over for us, since I understand there’s a very lively party going on in my suite. I’d be real pleased if you’d join us.”
Sadie almost declined without giving the invitation a second of thought. As nice as Tiny seemed to be, and as semi-drunk as she was, her latent schoolmarm starchiness had the word “no” rising to her lips practically before Tiny finished his sentence. But Jennifer beat her to the punch.
“Sounds fantastic to me, Tiny,” Jennifer slurred out. “But, Sadie, you gotta come, too. Keep me out of trouble, okay?” She gave Sadie an inebriated grin.
Torn between a longing for bed and a sense that she would be too restless to sleep, Sadie decided to throw caution to the wind, much as she’d done in the maintenance lounge with the sheriff. Besides, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on poor Jennifer, who was in much worse shape than Sadie was.
“What the heck,” she said, standing up and straightening her brutally wrinkled dress. “Let’s give it a whirl.”
Partying with a rap star. Another first to add to her Vegas list of accomplishments. If her father and her department colleagues could see her now, they’d probably have a collective nervous breakdown.
Tiny wrapped his bear-like arms around Sadie’s and Jennifer’s shoulders. Together, they weaved toward the bank of elevators. Leroi and the other bodyguard took up their positions, front and back. Glancing behind, Sadie saw the sheriff flick two fingers toward the casino security team. The two men closest to her group began to follow, with Nick himself falling in behind. She groaned inside. Underneath his icy calm she sensed a hurricane forming.
What in God’s name had she gotten herself into?
Sadie, Jennifer, Tiny, the two bodyguards, and three casino security staff—including Nick, unfortunately—rode the elevator together to the twenty-fifth floor. Sadie scrunched into the corner at the back, trying to be invisible. Near the door, his back to her, the sheriff glanced at the video screen atop the elevator control panel. Sadie swore she could feel the heat of his anger and disapproval raising the temperature inside the tight space.
Nick and another security man held their arms against the open doors as Tiny and his party got out. As Sadie brushed by him, she tried to muster up a defiant glare but chickened out and looked down at her feet. This whole evening was turning out to be more bizarre than she could have ever have imagined. Part of her wanted to bolt for the stairwell and race down to her own room.
But another part kept her feet moving, furious with the sheriff for playing the role of a hardass. She liked that he wanted to make sure nothing happened to her, but did he have to act like some kind of creepy stalker? What in heaven’s name did he think she was going to do? Sleep with Tiny or one of his crew?
She took one quick look backwards as Tiny ushered her through the door. The sheriff took up a position directly across the corridor, while the other two security men flanked the door. Leroi waved to them before he gave the door a solid, disconcerting slam. Suddenly, Sadie felt very alone.
Taking a fortifying breath, she pinned a bright smile on her face and gazed around the room. Inside Tiny’s palatial suite—or group of suites, it appeared—at least thirty men and women were already in full party mode. One after another, people hurried up to Tiny, fawning on him. Every one of the women shot Sadie and Jennifer suspicious glares. Most of the men gave them glances verging on leers.
Swept up in the near-chaotic music and gyrating bodies, it took Sadie a minute or so to notice that Tiny had quickly abandoned Jennifer and her. She spotted him in the doorway to another room—probably one of the bedrooms—looking guilty as a pretty, pint-sized young woman berated him.
“I’d say somebody didn’t take too kindly to Tiny inviting us up here,” Jennifer said with a wry grin.
“Evidently not,” Sadie answered.
“Yo. You two want weed or blow?” Leroi asked, sauntering up to them. “Tiny, he said to fix you up.”
“Weed for me,” Jennifer said quickly.
Leroi nodded, then turned his cynical gaze on Sadie. “Well?”
Sadie had tried marijuana once, years ago, but the acrid smoke had made her choke. “Um, can anybody here mix a mojito, Leroi?”
Leroi snorted. “Lightweight. Kev, get your ass over here,” he shouted over Sadie’s head.
A tall, skinny, thirty-something man with a mop of curly, blond hair hustled over, then practically bowed before Leroi. “What’s up, dude?”
Leroi pointed to Jennifer. “Get a blunt for this lady.” He turned to Sadie. “And the redhead, here, she wants a mohhh-hito,” he said with a laugh. “They’re Tiny’s guests, so be good to them.” The big bodyguard nodded at Sadie and Jennifer and strode away.
Kev grinned at Sadie and took off into an adjacent room, presumably to find Jennifer her “blunt,” whatever that was. Sadie’s head started to throb, both from the heat and the noise. The music was so loud it seemed to assault her very bones, the thudding bass and drums vibrating the wall she leaned against for support. Flashing Sadie a grin, Jennifer waved as a man grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dance on the other side of the room.
Su
ddenly, Sadie felt very much alone and utterly out of place. A stranger in a strange land, and one who had no wish to be there. She wondered if the sheriff remained on station outside the door. Five minutes ago, she’d wanted him to disappear. Now, she wished he would come charging through the door on his white horse to rescue her. But why would he? Not when she’d made it clear that his overly protective instincts were nothing less than insulting. And not to mention that her mixed signals would confuse any sane man. Hell, she was confusing herself.
A few uncomfortable minutes later, Kev brought her the requested mojito. It was huge—half again as big as the ones the casino served. She thanked him and took a quick gulp as he pulled a joint out of his jacket pocket and lit up. “You must be a friend of Tiny’s,” she said, uncomfortable with the brief silence. She took another drink of the surprisingly refreshing mojito, grateful for the cool slide of liquid down her parched throat.
“Tiny’s the boss,” Kev replied, before inhaling deeply. “I work for him.”
Sadie’s eyes burned from the cloud of bitter smoke wafting over her, but she tried to ignore it. “What kind of work do you do for Tiny, Kev?”
“Drum technician, mostly. But I do whatever Tiny needs. And whatever Leroi tells me to do. They take care of their peeps.” His eyes raked over her, stopping at her breasts. He didn’t try to hide his avid interest. “Wanna dance?”
Sadie gave an involuntary jerk that almost made her spill the remainder of her drink. Something in Kev’s eyes made her uncomfortable. But saying no seemed rude, especially when Tiny and Leroi had made a point of seeing to her comfort. She gulped down another mouthful and set the glass on a side table. She misjudged the height of the table and the glass made a heavy clunk as it landed, sloshing the drink around. “All right. But I think I should be going soon.”
Kev grimaced. “You just got here. Tiny’ll be pissed if you bounce.” Impatiently, he reached for her and he guided her to a spot where they could dance.
As Sadie started to move to the thumping beat, Kev gave her a broad grin and two thumbs up. She laughed, starting to relax and feeling more than a little drunk. That last mojito must have been stronger than it tasted, because it was going straight to her head.
After a few minutes Sadie thought the song would end, but the music never stopped, segueing from one tune to another. Surprisingly, and without any help from her brain, her body got into the rhythm, dipping and swaying. She might be the clumsiest dancer in the room, but right now she thought she looked almost graceful, and Kev certainly seemed to think she was dancing just fine.
Unfortunately, Kev also seemed to think dancing was a contact sport. Every way she moved, he was right on top of her, bumping her hips or her ass, or practically slithering down her back. The more he touched her, the more uncomfortable she became. And as the dancing went on, the room turned unbearably hot. Sweat streamed down her forehead, stinging her eyes, and her body started to tremble with fatigue. She came to a stop, her breathing ragged and scorching her throat.
“You okay?” Kev said. He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. He had an erection, which he prodded into her hip.
Sadie’s stomach gave a sickening lurch and she tried to push him away. “Let me go. I need to get some air. My head’s spinning.”
“Maybe I should take you to your room.” He dropped his hands to cup her ass.
“Like hell,” she gasped, slapping away his groping fingers.
Someone pounded on the door hard enough for the knock to be heard over the deafening music. Three seconds later, an even more insistent knock sounded. Sadie jerked away from Kev and saw Leroi opening the door. Nick brushed past him, stepping into the foyer of the suite.
The cavalry had finally arrived.
“We’ve had a noise complaint from other guests,” Nick yelled over the music as his eyes searched the room. He took another step forward and Leroi smoothly shifted in front of him.
“Hey, man. Nose out of our business,” Leroi growled. “We got damn near the whole floor, so who’s complaining?”
“Everyone above and below you,” Nick growled back. “We have strict noise nuisance regulations, sir, and it’s almost two in the morning. I’m sure your boss wouldn’t be too happy if someone called the police. The cops might not take such a charitable view of your activities as we do.” He took two more steps into the room and this time Leroi didn’t try to stop him. The other two security men kept pace behind the sheriff.
A dizzying sense of relief drained the blood from Sadie’s head. Overheated and nauseous, she felt wobbly on her feet. The sheriff was right, damn him. She was in over her head, and had been from the moment she agreed to come up to Tiny’s suite. She would let him lecture her all he wanted as long as he got her back to the blessed quiet of her own room.
She managed a weak wave and he headed straight for her, pushing his way easily through the crowd.
Unfortunately, Kev chose that moment to drape his arm around her shoulders and nuzzle his face into her neck. The feel of his clammy skin combined with the overpowering odor of pot made her head spin. Horrified, and trying desperately to keep her stomach where it belonged, she gave the stupid jerk a hard shove with the last of her strength. Caught off guard, Kev yelped and went crashing to the floor, bowling over two other dancers in the process.
Sadie turned and staggered in the other direction, straight into the sheriff’s waiting arms.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Okay, Saxon. You’ve had two days to keep an eye on your little friend. What’s the verdict?” Carson’s flat-iron face split into a gloating grin.
Carson had insisted on meeting at nine on the dot, even though Nick didn’t normally start work until early afternoon. He took a swallow of the lukewarm coffee the chief’s secretary had just brought in. Over the top of the mug, he snuck a look at the crooked planes of Carson’s nose, so obviously broken in that fight years ago.
Way to go, Dad.
Nick had pondered his approach for dealing with Sadie’s situation for more than twenty-four hours, and had thoroughly rehearsed his lines. The more he worked it through in his head, the better he liked it.
“You were right, Chief. I’ve monitored her play for two days. There’s no question she’s counting.”
Carson sat straighter in his chair, his bushy white brows arching in surprise. “Good for you, Saxon. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. All right, then, you might as well get right at it. You know what you have to do.” He reached for his phone, obviously thinking he’d dismissed Nick.
“Just a minute, Chief,” Nick said. “I’m not finished.”
Frowning, Carson thumped the phone back down. “What the hell else is there to say? She’s counting—she goes. She should have been out of here yesterday. All your screwing around cost the house money.”
Nick didn’t rise to the bait. He calmly took another drink of coffee while the chief’s face started to redden. “It’s true Ms. Bligh is using a counting scheme, but she’s a total amateur. It’s my guess that she read about counting in books or on the Internet, and decided to give it a whirl. She’s a really smart woman with a photographic memory—a math professor, actually. From the University of Chicago. For someone with her brain, it wouldn’t be all that hard to get an edge on the odds.”
Carson stared at him, his gaze now more sly than hostile. “She wouldn’t be the first professor to try to clean out a casino. Look at that jerk from Boston who tried it with teams of his students.”
Nick nodded. Everybody knew that story—Hollywood had made it into a movie. “That case was totally different. Sadie Bligh plays alone, and not for big stakes. The friend she’s with hardly goes near the tables, and when she does, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing.”
He paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows as if asking for permission to continue. If Nick had to bow and scrape a bit to rescue Sadie’s pretty ass—said ass and the rest of her currently in her bed, sleeping off what would be a massive
hangover—he would.
The image of Sadie curled up like a little girl in her bed flashed through his mind. As angry as he’d been with her last night, he’d been consumed with worry, too. The pounding music had been mostly an excuse for him to barrel into Tiny’s suite, certain something was very wrong with Sadie. And it was. Christ only knew what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened. After he’d carried her back to her room and tucked her into bed, he’d stood there for a few minutes, just watching. The emotions that had flooded him, the sense that he had to protect her from the big, bad world, had left him shaken down to his bones.
“Go on,” Carson prompted in an impatient voice.
With effort, Nick focused on his boss. “We know successful counters follow standard betting patterns—that’s the whole point of what they do. But Ms. Bligh plays inconsistently, and doesn’t always properly scale her bets when she has the advantage. I know that it could be a tactic on her part, some misdirection she throws up knowing we’re monitoring her. But I doubt it. She’s shown no sophistication in her play. Any effort to throw us off has been lame.”
“Yeah, maybe. But the bottom line is that she keeps winning, doesn’t she?”
“She’s had a good run,” Nick had to admit. “But she’s just a talented amateur, Chief. I really don’t see her as any kind of threat. She’ll be out of here in a few more days and that’ll probably be the last time we see her.”
Carson smiled, obviously getting ready to spring his trap. Nick no longer had any doubt his suspicions about the chief’s motives were correct. Carson was setting him up for a fall.
“You said you’d give me your recommendation today, but I haven’t heard one yet.” The chief tilted back in his leather chair, folding his hands like a cartoon corporate executive.
The conversation had played out almost exactly as Nick had scripted it. He believed he’d made a reasonable case. But if this meeting was a charade, he’d know within seconds.
