Kat slumped in her chair, feeling like she’d run a marathon.
Her stomach growled and she remembered she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Cole arched an eyebrow. “You need to eat.”
She paused, weighing the situation. “Good time to check out the room service.” She picked up the phone and looked at him. “I assume you also like to eat.”
“I do.” The low rumble startled her. “Order double of whatever you’re getting and we’ll go back to your room.”
Kat felt the heat on her cheeks rising at his wording.
She ducked and made the call, berating herself for being so open to emotional tweaks and twists.
Ghosts. Lovers.
Men.
Chapter Two
What a woman, Julien thought as he walked through the hall to the front lobby. Not what I expected.
He hadn’t been sure what to think when the word came that Katherine McMaster was on her way to personally oversee the renovations. Max had panicked and run, but Julien wanted to see what the new owner was made of. Would she be a paper cutout, sitting in the office doing her nails while Julien ran the property in her name, or would she want to get dirt under her fingers and get into the nitty-gritty of what needed to be done to save the Majestic?
It’d been a pleasant surprise to find a beautiful woman who had her heart set on success, and the intelligence to accept help to make it happen. He knew she had a reputation of being a smart businesswoman but it was good to see the reality.
It also didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes. If he’d walked in and seen her at the bar, it would have been a no-brainer to head over and seduce her into his bed for the night. As it was, having her as his boss presented various opportunities both for him and for the Majestic.
Julien waved at Alfred, the doorman, as he headed out to the riverboat. The guard dog might be a bit of a problem—if he wasn’t already dating the lovely Katherine McMaster, he was thinking about it. That snarling in her office wasn’t all for show.
He laughed as he spotted the casino in all of her floating glory. There was nothing better than competing for the love of a woman.
As long as he won.
What a pile of crap, Cole thought as he escorted Kat to the hotel suite. The guy’s so full of it I’m surprised he doesn’t explode.
Julien had tossed some good shit around, talking about ghosts and spirits, all the usual stuff you expected to hear when you went to New Orleans. It was great for the tourists and pulled the money out of their pockets, but the Majestic wasn’t about to become some sort of haunted house or voodoo-themed bar.
Except the pitch hadn’t been just for Devereaux to keep his job and sell her on the renovations.
Cole saw the effect the words had on Kat. If he hadn’t been standing there, standing right there in the office, Julien would have made a move on her. Hell, the guy was halfway into her pants if the look in her eyes was any indication. A few sweet words cooed into her ears with the sexy accent, and she was gone.
That wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch. He wasn’t going to get to write his own ticket out of here if he let Kat McMaster bed the first soft-eyed man she saw.
Especially that one. He didn’t know what to make of Julien Devereaux, but he knew a smooth operator when he saw one.
Just like Steve.
The thought shocked him.
He hadn’t thought about Steve in years.
Cole pushed the memory to the back of his mind, to be analyzed and dissected later. He had a job to do and didn’t need the distraction.
Cole unlocked the hotel door and walked in, eyes automatically sweeping the room for any dangers.
Kat walked in behind him and went to the couch with her laptop. She sat and went back to work, ignoring him as he made his rounds.
The decor was generic hotel, soothing pastels of blue and cream everywhere, from the pictures of sailing ships on the walls to the couch to the white shag carpet. A balcony faced out onto the front of the hotel, giving them an unrestricted view of the dying trees in the arrival area and the scent of fish wafting in from the nearby river.
He shut the doors and made sure the air-conditioning was on full.
A glance in the bedroom showed her bags there, unpacked.
A few strides took him to the connecting door and into his own room. He inspected the door. It had an old-fashioned metal key lock, and according to what he’d instructed, the key itself was downstairs in the security office, out of reach for casual use.
The lock was on both sides of the door, making it necessary for mutual agreement for it to be open. It was, and was going to stay that way for the duration of his time with Kat McMaster.
His duffel bag sat on the single bed, making it his new home for the time being.
Cole took a few minutes to put the clothing away, keeping an ear peeled for any issues from the living room.
He switched out his suit jacket and dress pants for a track jacket and jeans, choosing to look casual. A quick check of the pistol snuggled against the small of his back, and he was ready to face Kat again.
A rapping at the main door brought him out of his room and into the main living area. She was busy on her laptop and ignored him as he signed for the tray, added a tip, and wheeled the cart in with a dismissive nod to the waiter.
He placed the first plate on the coffee table with the cold bottle of beer before taking the second plate and heading for his own room.
“Aren’t you—” Kat put the computer down. “Aren’t you going to eat with me?” She looked at him with deep eyes that dared him to bend or break his personal rules.
Cole hesitated, torn between business and pleasure.
Usually his clients wanted him to remain invisible, keeping out of sight.
Usually they didn’t look so damned beautiful.
“Please.” She gestured at the chair. “I won’t bite. And I’d appreciate the company.”
Cole got himself a bottle of cold water from the minifridge, passing on the second bottle of beer. He smiled. “I don’t drink while on duty.”
“Didn’t think about that,” Kat apologized as she lifted the silver dome off her plate. “Sorry.”
Cole did the same, his mouth watering at the sight of the shrimp po’boy sitting on the tray, surrounded by a mountain of fries.
“Figured if they can’t make this right I fire the entire staff.” Kat laughed as she sliced the monster sandwich into smaller pieces, quartering it from the original two halves. The French bread snapped and broke under the knife, sending crumbs everywhere.
Cole didn’t bother, picking up a half and taking a bite. The fried shrimp popped in his mouth, the tangy sauce and fresh lettuce drowning his taste buds.
Before he realized it the po’boy was gone and he was nibbling on the fries.
“Weren’t you the hungry one,” Kat murmured as she worked on her second quarter.
He rolled his shoulders, unapologetic for his actions. “Good food. I’d recommend keeping the kitchen staff.”
“Yes.” She put her hand to her mouth and caught a stray slice of tomato before it fell. “I agree.”
Cole finished off his fries and sat back with his bottle of water, studying her as she finished eating.
Her hair fell over her shoulders, freed from the black hair tie that lay on the table, forgotten for the moment. She picked at the fries one by one, dipping them into the ketchup, and popping them into her mouth with a rhythm he envied. She licked her fingers and Cole felt his heart skip a beat, imagining where and what he’d like her to do with that mouth.
He caught himself and took another sip of water, berating himself.
You haven’t been alone that long.
In another time and place he would be in the bar on his dinner break, maybe seeking a woman looking for a lovely evening with no commitments. Instead he was here drooling over the way Kat ate her sandwich, like a schoolboy with a crush on the head cheerleader.
“A
re you going to be in for the night?” Cole asked.
She glanced at him, forehead furrowed as if trying to comprehend what he was asking. “Yeah. I guess so.” Her attention went to the laptop and the stack of folders sitting beside it. “I’ve got plenty of work here to keep me busy until I go to bed.”
He went to the front door and double checked the lock, giving a tug on the door to make sure it was secure. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to rest in my room. If you decide to go out please let me know, and I’ll either come with you or find someone else to accompany you. Don’t leave the suite alone.”
She licked her fingers again. “And if I do?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t be happy.”
“And if I make you unhappy?” The mischievous smile taunted him.
He couldn’t help it.
Cole advanced on her, stopping shy of bumping his shoes against those high, sexy heels, using his height to tower over her. “I guess I’ll have to punish you.”
“Really.” She ran her tongue over her lower lip and he felt the blood rush from his head, heading south with a vengeance. “And what would you do?” Kat stretched her arms out along the back of the sofa and crossed her legs, giving him a flash of white, perfect skin.
“Maybe I’d flip you over my knee and spank you,” he growled, unable to contain himself.
Her eyes went wide. The hitch in her breath shot straight to his cock and for a tantalizing second he thought about leaning in and stealing a kiss.
“Is that how you take care of all your naughty clients?” Her voice was low and soft, nothing like the woman he’d been escorting all day.
Clients. Work. Bodyguard.
Responsible for her safety.
“No.” He forced himself to stand and head for the door to his room, mentally dumping a bucket of cold water over his libido.
Cole paused and looked back, unable to give her the victory. “Sometimes I make them beg first.”
He shut the door on her shocked expression.
Kat scowled at the closed door for an entire minute before reaching for the second bottle of beer. She snapped the top off and flicked it at the door. It bounced back onto the plush carpet, waiting to be stepped on.
Smart-ass.
It wasn’t hard for her to get dates. She’d had boyfriends, she’d had lovers, keeping all of them out of sight and out of the tabloids. That hadn’t been hard to manage; the paparazzi moved on to bigger, better targets when she stayed out of the clubs and out of the public eye, too busy working for McMaster Industries.
Except she wasn’t here to find a soulmate. She was here to save the Majestic.
Kat sat back and relaxed against the soft cushions, enjoying the beer and planning out her future.
Julien might have a point. The pictures in the file displayed the Majestic as a gaudy, neon fantasyland, not unlike those in Las Vegas. The flashy lights, the loud screaming slots calling to the players to come, come and spend their money.
But all casinos weren’t meant to look and sound the same. What worked in a Vegas casino might not work in Atlantic City or Reno and vice versa. The goal was to provide entertainment and separate visitors from their money with a smile and a laugh, and if that wasn’t happening, something was wrong.
And in the case of the Majestic, there was something very, very wrong.
Her preliminary study of the hotel’s business details didn’t show anything glaring, such as overpriced rooms or outrageous extra charges. The rates were competitive with others in the area. Yet over half of the rooms sat empty every night.
The riverboat wasn’t much different. The casino’s returns were pathetic when compared to other similar operations, and she had to figure out what was wrong before she could make it right.
She needed to see the floor for herself. Not as Kat McMaster, new owner of the Majestic. The minute she came on the floor everyone would change, shift gears, and her impressions would be warped and possibly invalid.
Kat finished off the beer and glanced at the closed door.
She wasn’t going to be able to do it with an attack dog on her heels. Cole was a nice diversion, pleasant to look at, and more likely than not a nighttime fantasy when she was alone in her bed, but she wasn’t going to drag some puppy behind her on an impromptu inspection. He’d alert everyone in the area by his presence, the bodyguard to some rich gambler walking onto the casino floor, or worse, help her be recognized.
She went to the bedroom and her waiting luggage.
It took only a few minutes to change out of her dress into a white T-shirt and jeans, a leather jacket completing her wardrobe change. Her hair went into a tight braid, lifting off the back of her neck as she tightened the elastic band.
Kat pocketed one of the card keys and slipped out the door as silently as she could, her wallet and phone safe in her jacket pockets. Going without a purse would present less temptation for any pickpockets in the area—the last thing she needed right now was to explain how her credit cards had been run to the max on toys she’d never see.
It was relatively easy to slip into the nearby stairwell and avoid the security officer standing in the hallway, his attention focused on the elevators.
The hotel lobby was relatively empty and she winced, noting it was close to midnight. Over the years she’d visited many McMaster locations and very few of them had such a silent time, especially with a casino open 24/7 next door. None of the front-desk staff looked up from their cell phones as she passed by, all too busy checking their social media or playing games.
That would change.
Kat walked out into the stifling humidity, breaking into a sweat within the first few steps. For a second she thought about turning around and retreating to the comfort of the air-conditioned hotel, then pressed on.
This wasn’t something she could delegate to anyone else. It was her business, her responsibility.
The night air was fragrant, smelling of roses, and she saw the trellises nearby, the bushes climbing high at the front of the hotel. The red and white roses were blossoming and beautiful—or they would have been, if not for the garish banners announcing the GRAND REOPENING UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT! someone had hung in every open space.
Kat held back the urge to tear the banners down. The last thing you wanted the public to know about were any internal issues with management. Ignorance was bliss and no one cared about the bottom line, or how much the laundry costs had spiraled upward, or how much food was being wasted because the kitchen couldn’t figure out how to order supplies.
All the public wanted, all they needed, was the promise of a good time.
The Majestic was already failing on that front.
A string of bright white lights hung from the wrought-iron lampposts led her around the parking circle and out to the river where the riverboat sat, also outlined with brilliant white spotlights.
She strolled along the stone path toward the riverboat, hearing the waves lap at the shore. The pungent odor had her wrinkling her nose and wondering if there was any way to put out industrial-sized air fresheners. Mentally she made a note to get the gardeners on the issue tomorrow morning. No one wanted to wade through a stinking swamp to get to their poker games.
The thick hedges shut off the pathway from the parking lot, one slight tick in the “win” column in Kat’s mind. At least people didn’t have to stare at traffic while—
The world spun around her as she was yanked into the shadows, one hand covering her mouth before she had a chance to scream.
Instinctively Kate kicked back as hard as she could. Her heel hit something hard and she smiled in spite of the situation, twisting and turning in an effort to get away. She sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
The grunt didn’t loosen the iron grip on her chest, one arm keeping her in place as the other tightened on her mouth.
“Nice try,” the familiar voice snarled into her ear. “But you won’t get rid of me so easily.”
She t
ugged free to spin around and saw Cole glaring at her. He wore the same track jacket and jeans as earlier, his white dress shirt open and gaping, the black tie barely keeping a decent knot as it hung loose around his neck.
“What were you thinking?” he growled. “This is a perfect chance for someone to grab you.”
“Obviously. You did.” She gave herself a shake, trying to push through the tingling on her bare skin where he’d touched her.
“I’m serious. When I told you to stay put, I meant it.” The anger in his voice was tempered with concern. “Do you not understand you’re a potential target?”
“Bullshit. You’re here to be a pain in my ass.” She yanked at a stray strand of hair, pulling it out of her eyes and tucking it back in her braid. “I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need security. I’ve done fine without you guys tagging along.”
“They were there. You didn’t see them because they didn’t want to be seen,” Cole said, his voice now only an angry whisper. “All the time you worked in New York, in Los Angeles, in Las Vegas, you had security. They kept their distance because you were on McMaster ground and had overlapping coverage from both your personal teams and the others set up for the complex.” He swept his arm out into the darkness. “You don’t have that luxury here. My team’s good but you can’t go out wandering by yourself.”
“Even here, in my own casino?”
“Don’t push your luck.” Cole’s stern tone sent a shiver up her spine as she imagined how he’d sound in bed. “The area might be secured but you’re still not guaranteed to be safe. You’re tipping this place on its head. Angry employees, thirsty criminals; they wouldn’t think twice about taking a run at you.”
Kat shook her head. “Where were you guys before, during my college years? I didn’t see you then.”
“Sure you did. But you didn’t. Bobbi Christie. Others before and after her, in your dorm and in your classes.”
Kat paused, frowning as she absorbed this new information. “Bobbi? But she . . .” She stopped talking as the memories fell into place. “Son of a bitch.” She shook her head. “Bobbi was with me at the party.”
Betting on Both Page 3
