Luck of the Dragon

by Susannah Scott

  “Who’s Peter?” Alec reached for his drink and took a long swallow, appearing nonchalant, as if he kissed cursing women every day. As if the kiss would not even rank in his top five.

  Lucy’s mind jumped on her familiar calming exercise, P words. All the best words started with “P”: pilfer, purloin, plunder, poach, pirate… Inwardly, she groaned. She was going to burn in hell—or Leavenworth, whichever came first—for stealing his keycard.

  “Peter is one of the saints.” Lucy stumbled barefoot to the office door and twisted the handle. Locked. She knew it—just had to be sure. She wiggled it again before giving him her best haughty look.

  “You’re calling on your gods because I kissed you.” He smiled and rested his chin on the back of his hand. “We’ll be very good together.”

  “We are not going to be together.” Lucy pointed to the locked door. “You’re harassing me. I’ll file charges on you.”

  “If you must.” Alec tilted his head at a mischievous angle. “I’ll not deny that I kissed you, if you’ll not deny that it made you cry out for your gods.”

  Hot humiliation warred with anxiety inside Lucy’s head. She had enjoyed it. But she had to get out of the casino. Now. “You’re a deranged lunatic. Let me out of here right now.”

  “Of course.” Alec took the last swallow of his drink. “But I need you to promise to return in the morning and start your appraisal.”

  “Fine.” Like hell she would come back. She’d be on a plane to anywhere-but-here by morning. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” She fought not to glance to her right, a sure tell for lying.

  Alec nodded. Standing, he arched his back as if he had a knot between his shoulder blades. He bent to pick up her shoes. The muscled contour of his back and butt showed through his suit when he bent over. Lucy swallowed the spit in her mouth and took a deep breath. Get a grip and quit checking out his primo backside.

  Alec extended his hand. The expensive shoes dangled from his index finger, looking less haute couture and more Kmart wilted. “There’s just one thing…”

  Lucy grabbed the shoes and used the back of the chair to steady herself as she slipped them on. She stood straight, immediately appreciating the extra three inches in height. She could almost meet his eyes. “What?”

  “You’re a respected woman, with degrees from M.I.T. and Le Suisse International. You have examined some of the most priceless jewels in the world. Everyone who works with you lauds your professionalism and integrity.”

  “So?” Lucy put her hands on her hips.

  “I don’t think you normally call your clients Testa di merda.”

  “True.” Lucy noticed that his accent was perfect. Most English speakers put a Spanish inflection on Italian words. “Well, only when they really deserve it, and never to their faces.”

  “I think you must be in some sort of trouble. If you need help, I can help you. My resources are limitless.”

  Lucy leaned forward at his words. Her heels lifted off the back of her shoes and her toes gripped the floor. How tempting it was to tell him everything. Let him handle it all with his unlimited resources: Joey’s never-ending gambling debts, the mob-backed enforcer, the jewel heist…

  But this man, with his money and easy kisses, was not on her short list of dependable folk—he was not even on her long list of scoundrels.

  He didn’t know her. Why would he help her?

  Sex.

  “Mr. Gerald, despite what you seem to think of me, I’m not for sale.” Her previous cursing and loss of control made her feel ashamed, trashy, and cheap. It was a flashback to the youth she had worked her whole life to escape.

  “Dr. De Luca…” Alec’s face tightened and his navy eyes glittered. He seemed frustrated by her refusal. “I want to help you. You’re obviously in some sort of trouble. I can fix it.”

  Did he already know about the card? Alarm pulsed up her throat, and she blinked hard to keep her eyes off his empty suit pocket. Why didn’t he call the police? Have her arrested? Hauled out to the desert for some Vegas-style justice…

  “I assure you, Mr. Gerald, I’m in no need of your assistance.” Her voice sounded sure. Lucy clasped her hands together in front of her stomach to fight the panic crawling up her spine when she thought of Gino and Joey’s plans.

  “Everyone is in need of help of some sort.” Alec smiled and reached a wide palm toward her. His handsome face softened in concern. His gesture was oddly gentle and sincere, and somehow kind, as if he knew she was in over her head and only wanted to help her.

  “I’m fine, really.” Lucy’s eyes swept the elegant room for other possible exits. Her abandoned drink sweated a water ring on his mahogany desk. She should have put a coaster down. That was rude, rude, rude…trashy and cheap.

  Holy Mary, Joseph, and Peter…get her out of this room.

  “Please, remember that you can come to me with anything.” Alec kept his hands in his pockets and met her eyes, his gaze direct and unflinching. When she did not reply, he walked to the door and unlocked it with his thumbprint. Lock tumblers fell into place before he swung the door wide. “The elevator to the lobby is just outside.”

  Lucy lengthened her stride to catch up with him in front of the elevator doors. The doors hissed open revealing…nothing.

  No, there was glass. The setting sun glinted around the elevator corners, reflecting the seams. The Luxor pyramid head grinned below, and behind it the Mandalay Bay looked like an aluminum-foil Lego set. Vertigo spun Lucy’s head and she grabbed for Alec’s left arm.

  “It’s safe.” Alec smiled and closed his right hand over her fingers clutching his elbow. “I promise.” His touch was reassuring and solid. “Don’t be afraid.” He walked forward and turned around to face her, appearing as if he floated in the air.

  Lucy shook her head and backed up. The elevator was only big enough for two people, and though her mind knew it was an illusion, her heart screamed out, You will fall, stay back!

  “Ahh…I have issues with heights. I’ll go down the way I came up.”

  “It’s longer. Much longer.” He held both hands wide. “This elevator exits to the lobby.”

  The lobby with its ginormous exit to the street. She would be clear of the casino in minutes. She was tempted. And no one could stop Alec to alert him of a security breach. Lucy took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped forward. Her ears popped as they immediately whisked downward.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad.” Alec stroked the back of her bare arm. His hand was warm against her frozen worry.

  The elevator beeped. “You can look now.”

  Lucy opened her eyes. The elevator doors slid apart, leading to the sparkling gold and jeweled lobby. She stepped forward onto hard, safe, Italian tiled ground. Her legs shook and she wobbled on her shoes.

  “Why would you have a glass elevator?” Her words squeaked like they needed more air in them.

  “Why not?” Alec put his hand under her elbow and led her through the bustle of the casino entry to a portico as big as her house. “It’s a bit of a thrill, don’t you agree?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s a bit of a death trap.”

  A black Bentley slid smoothly to the curb. Alec opened the back door as the driver greeted them. Leather and new-car smell escaped into the darkening sky. “My driver will take you home.”

  “I don’t think so.” Lucy pulled free, regaining her wits. “Then you’ll know where I live.”

  Alec leaned closer, the scent of him clean despite the heat. “I already know where you live.”

  The knowledge shocked her. “I want a cab.”

  “Of course.” Alec shut the door and nodded to a waiting doorman. “Over here.” He escorted her to the roped-off cab line. Drunken tourists shuffled quickly into cars, and soon they were at the front.

  Alec opened the door to a yellow cab. The sharp smell of bleach and hot plastic swamped out. He picked up Lucy’s hand and turned the palm up. He waited for her to meet his gaze, then kissed her hand, letti
ng the tip of his tongue touch her life line. Heat uncoiled in the pit of her stomach, flooding her cold limbs with fire.

  She snatched her hand back. “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m perfectly sane.” Alec brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Remember what I said. I can help you.”

  Perhaps it was the surety of the metal cab door in her fingers, escape literally at hand, but her eyes sheened with tears. He was just too much. It was all too much.

  “No thanks. I decided not to be a whore fifteen years ago.” She tried to pull free and slide into the cab, but Alec held her firmly in place.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight.” Alec released her, and she slid across the cracked vinyl seat to the far window. He shut the door and handed the driver a hundred dollar bill.

  Lucy refused to look back. “Please just get away from here,” she told the cabbie. Her voice cracked with the emotion she had fought to contain. She deliberately didn’t look back at the Crown Jewel and its enigmatic owner, but kept her eyes on the dirty cab window. Someone had kissed the pane, leaving a puckered outline in candy-apple red.

  Had she ever been so carefree, to put on too much lipstick and kiss a window?

  No.

  Fresh misery swamped her. She had to talk to Joey, find a way out of this mess. And book a flight. Beyond the window, the lights of the Strip bleared to a distorted neon rainbow, like someone’s pot turned to fool’s gold.

  Chapter Five

  The scent of the chase thrilled Alec’s dragon as he coasted above the Las Vegas strip following Lucy’s cab. He didn’t have to worry about the desensitized human eyes below him. They were too distracted by the strip’s bright bursts of neon and an overabundance of flash and awe to notice his shadow.

  On the dark horizon, lightning fractured the night, sending a web of energy across the sky, stretching his scales and shaking him like a fist. He tucked his wings and dove fast, spinning, delighting in the descent, exhilaration in every wing stroke.

  Dr. Lucy De Luca—Ph.D in sass and thievery—was his destined mate. The shock of their kiss still echoed through his bones like reverb from a bass-blasting speaker. Happiness swelled through his chest, and something even more elusive energized his worn body. It was hope.

  In centuries past, a dragon might be mated with a magician, but never a human. It was assumed the fates avoided them because they were too frail, mentally and physically. Regardless, he had a mate, a feisty human mate. Now, he just had to extract her from whatever mess she was in.

  Alec landed in the shadows, shifted into his human form, and approached Lucy’s tidy house in Henderson with furtive steps. The house was tan-bricked with decorative, but functional, bars at the windows. It was surrounded by brick walls with an all-business looking iron gate for access that reminded Alec of the woman. Lucy was a bit of a fortress herself.

  He was curious about the inside of her home. Human’s domiciles revealed much about the person who occupied them, and he wanted to know more about Lucy. But she wouldn’t want to see him. She would be alarmed by his presence. The invitation inside would have to wait. There were other ways of gaining information.

  Letting his heightened dragon senses sweep the suburban neighborhood, Alec could tell that most of the humans were settling in to sleep. Lucy was on the east side of her house, and her body gave off a scent he could find anywhere in the world now. He frowned at the presence of another heat signature, one that hustled around in front of her with the flightiness of a starved bird.

  A friend? A foe? A lover?

  Alec’s gut twisted at the possibilities, and his dragon nature beat against the wall of his chest, ready for action. He soothed himself with deep breaths of the crisp night air. He wasn’t a teenage fledgling anymore; he could, and would, control his reactions.

  Bending his knees, he jumped over the ten-foot brick wall. His feet crunched softly over white gravel as he stepped around Lucy’s side yard. Pressing himself to the side of the house, he peered through an open window off the kitchen.

  Lucy stood with her back to him. She had changed clothes, and his gaze moved appreciatively over her snug black yoga pants and white tank top. Her heavy red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She shook her hands at a man with her same facial features and hair color.

  “You promised me you would stop gambling,” Lucy said. “How could you do this again?” Her question sounded rhetorical, small and hopeless, not at all the she-cat who had called him fiery names at the casino.

  “Sis, I don’t know what happened. I had a sure tip on this pony.” The man appeared genuinely perplexed, and a part of Alec settled down at the revelation that the man was only her brother.

  “Joey… You put all your money on the race, didn’t you?” Lucy asked. “Again.”

  Joey gave her an eyebrow raised, hell-to-the-yah look. “It was a sure bet, and it would have paid off at 50K—”

  “There is no such thing as a sure bet, that’s why they call it a bet.” Lucy pulled the hair of her ponytail into two strands, tightening the elastic band.

  “I didn’t mean to get you involved. It’s just Gino is new in town and looking to make a score for his connections in Chicago.” Joey looked at his feet. “I’m sorry, Luce.”

  “You’re always sorry…” Lucy’s voice broke, and she crossed her arms around her stomach protectively. “So, so sorry.”

  Anger fired through Alec at the callous way Lucy’s brother treated her. This must be her problem, the reason she’d stolen his keycard.

  “Lucy, this is the last time,” Joey said.

  “You say that every time.” Lucy picked up a mug from the counter and blew over it. Peppermint and chamomile wafted through the window screen and filled his nostrils.

  Jer’ol—Leo broke through Alec’s reverie with mindspeak. Can you return to the casino?

  I’m busy, Alec telegraphed back across the desert.

  Your enemy has resurfaced, Leo said cryptically.

  You know where he is? Excitement raced through Alec at the news.

  For the moment, but he is on the move.

  Finally, he would corner Ambrogino. Alec focused on Lucy, torn between his need to keep her near him and the instinct to finally settle things with his enemy and former friend. He stared hard at her profile, willing her to feel his presence, willing her to know that she wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t have to carry her burdens by herself. He could help her.

  Lucy remained unaware of him, lost in her distraught tea-blowing. He would have to leave her for now. Ambrogino might prove dangerous to her, too, if he learned that she was his mate. Tomorrow, he would ask Lucy about her brother and try to fix whatever mess she was involved in.

  Tonight, he had an enemy to quash.

  I’ll be right there, he said to Leo before jumping into the sky.

  …

  “Did you make the drop?” Joey leaned his forearms on the bar counter and looked at her.

  Lucy nodded and kept blowing on her tea.

  “Did you put it in the toilet like he said?”

  Again, Lucy nodded.

  “Yes!” Joey fist pumped the air and rounded the bar, his arms wide to hug her. She was still mad at him. Lucy pushed her hot mug between them, an effective moat to his affection.

  Joey stepped back behind the dining area and started to pace. Lucy recognized his movement—she did it herself when she was thinking something through.

  “This is great. I’ll be in the clear now.” Joey circled around her table and breakfast bar.

  “In the clear to do what exactly?” Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Just two minutes ago you said you were done.”

  “Done with the ponies.” Joey stopped pacing, but his eyes careened off hers like smacked billiard balls. “I’ve got a money thing going with the cards. Don’t give me that look. It’s paying out better than your suit job.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Gambling is not a job. It’s an addiction.”

  “It will be fine, little sis.” J
oey had been born forty-five minutes before Lucy, and he liked to refer to it when he was being patronizing.

  “It will never be fine, as long as you keep taking these chances.” Lucy took a determined swallow of her tea. It was bitter.

  “Remember when ‘Number Three’ moved us to Bonanza Street?” Joey gave her a level look, waiting for her to join him in the memories of their desolate childhood.

  Lucy’s stomach clenched. “Number Three” was her mother’s third live-in boyfriend, a drinker, but he had a steady job as a mechanic. She inhaled the peppermint aroma from her tea to displace the remembered scent of diesel grease, and frowned when she couldn’t recall the man’s face.

  “I remember the apartment on the bad side of Bonanza,” Lucy swallowed the sudden dryness in her mouth. “The bathroom had pink tile.”

  She had been delighted with the working air-conditioning and hopeful for about a week, until Number Three had started getting handsy with her in the apartment’s narrow hallway. She and Joey had only been thirteen, but Joey, all one hundred scrawny pounds of him, had gone after the guy with a kitchen knife and told him to keep his hands to himself.

  Number Three had kicked them out the next day, and their mother had gone on a six-month bender.

  “It’s you and me first.” Joey recited their familiar mantra, causing a flood of emotions to swell in Lucy’s chest. “No one messes with us. The bastards can all fuck off.”

  “Right.” The problem was they weren’t kids anymore, and most adults didn’t respond with youthful theatrics. She had run away from anything with the whiff of underbelly to it, but Joey seemed to relish the under-ness of the belly. Lucy tried for the millionth time to find a way out for both of them.

  “I thought maybe we could leave Vegas,” she said. “Start over somewhere fresh. Maybe San Francisco?”

  “San Fran ain’t got no flash.” Joey gave her a cocky smile but then narrowed his eyes at her somber expression. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your house, and your career, and your yadda, yadda?” He raised his arms to the ceiling.