Betting on Both

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Yeah, and she lost her job because she forgot she wasn’t your friend,” Cole snapped. “She wanted you to have fun and got her priorities mixed up. Let it get out of hand and didn’t close it down when she should have.”

  Her stomach churned at the memories. “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. She had a job to do and she slipped.”

  “Why didn’t someone inform me?” She shook her head. “Why now?”

  “Because you didn’t need to know before. You were a kid having fun and doing kid stuff.” Cole eyed her. “Now you’re an adult.”

  “I was an adult before.” She resisted the urge to snap at him. “I’ve been out of college for two years.”

  “Learning the trade, tucked away safe and sound on McMaster property, surrounded by McMaster employees and personnel who had your safety paramount in their minds,” he answered. “Now you’re out here and on your own. You can do whatever you want but you can place yourself in danger without even knowing it.”

  Her mind swam with the fresh knowledge and the urge to be bad, very bad, now that she’d broken free of the invisible chains.

  “In danger? By doing things like this?” She leaned in and brushed her lips against his, her heart still racing from the brief struggle.

  It was only supposed to be a brief kiss, a teasing move to see if her protector had any bite to the barking he’d done earlier in the suite.

  It wasn’t.

  She gasped, the sudden desire burning fast and furiously through her body, the need almost overwhelming.

  Cole pulled back and she saw the shock in his eyes, likely reflected in her own.

  He grabbed her arms and held her in place, unable to move. “You shouldn’t do that.” His tone was low and hoarse.

  “Why not?” she whispered.

  “Because I might take you up on that offer. And I’m not sure either of us is ready to deal with the consequences.” He released her and stepped out into the light. “Come on. Time to go back to your room.”

  She eyed him, raising one eyebrow.

  “Not for that.” To her surprise his ears turned red. “I mean, for you to sleep. You’ve had a long day and you’re tired. We both are.”

  Kat shook her head, the buzzing from the kiss nowhere near subsiding. “I want to check out the casino. See if what Julien said is true.”

  Cole raised one eyebrow, the smirk replacing his flushed look. “Look for ghosts?” He waggled his fingers. “Oooga booga?”

  “Maybe.” She pointed at the garish, bare white bulbs overhead. “You have to admit this is pretty tacky.”

  He gave a fast glance up before focusing back on her. “I’m not paid to give decorating advice.”

  “If you’re going to be guarding me, can we at least try to look like a normal couple? I want to sniff around, get a feel for the place, and I can’t do that if it’s obvious you’re my pit bull. People are going to think you’re either a stalker or an angry ex and that won’t help me to do what I need to do.” Kat tucked her arm into his. “Work with me here and I promise, no more running off.”

  He grunted but didn’t pull away, letting her lean into him.

  Kat smiled and steered them toward the gangplank. Cole said nothing, his concession complete.

  She’s a fool. Worse, a dangerous fool.

  A dangerous, hot, beautiful fool.

  He had suspected she’d pull some sort of stunt—most new clients did, either to test him or worse, disobey him. After bidding her good night Cole had stretched out on the bed and listened to her putter around, get changed, and exit the suite.

  He’d taken the opposite set of stairs and beaten her downstairs, rushing outside to prepare his ambush with a mental note to chew out Andy, the man in the hallway. Either she was going to head out to a nightclub or check out the casino. When the brunette had turned toward the casino he’d been pleasantly surprised, impressed with her single-minded approach toward the task at hand.

  It’d been simple to find a dark spot on the path to demonstrate why she did, indeed, need his presence.

  The heir to a fortune didn’t get to walk around unmonitored.

  Cole had been prepared for everything but the kiss.

  As she maneuvered him toward the casino he berated himself for letting her do it. He didn’t get involved with his clients, even if they wanted to. No one good at the job ever did.

  Cole wasn’t a fool. A good bodyguard created an emotional attachment to the client. You had to know your customer inside and out, know where they’d go and how they’d react under different circumstances.

  Such as knowing Kat would try to sneak out. He didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to anticipate he’d have to catch her and show her the danger in her actions.

  But he’d already gone much further than he should, flirting like that in her suite. It was unprofessional and possibly dangerous.

  The problem was he didn’t regret it as much as he should.

  In a matter of hours the damned woman had gotten under his skin, and it was going to be an effort to get her out. Now he was escorting her around like a damned paid escort, breathing in her light flowery perfume and fighting to keep his desire under control.

  This was both the best and worst assignment in his life.

  And he had six months to go.

  They strolled along the path to the riverboat, his nose curling at the thick swampy smell coming up from the ramp. The dark green water lapped at the edge of the land, lost to tall uncut grass. Fluorescent orange tape sealed off areas from pedestrians who might dare step off the beaten path.

  “That’ll need a trim,” Kat murmured as she led him onto the riverboat.

  Cole had been inside casinos all over the world, most of them while working for McMaster Industries. Each had a theme, but the underlying idea was to make the visitor feel good, feel happy; eager to drop some cash and have a great time.

  It was different here. There wasn’t the excitement in the air, the smell of lightning luck about to strike some random person and make their dreams come true.

  People sat at the slot machines and tapped buttons, yelled at the craps tables as they either won or lost, scowled at the blackjack dealer when the wrong card came up. The lights flashed and the occasional siren sounded to signal a big winner but no one yelled, no one screamed when it happened. Waitresses dressed in dark blue uniforms patrolled the aisles with near-empty trays, the desperate looks on their faces saying it all.

  “He was right.” Kat’s grip on his arm increased as they moved between the tables. “There’s no energy here. No excitement.”

  Cole looked at her face, saw the intense gaze as she studied the players, the dealers, the pit bosses standing by with bored expressions.

  The laughing, flirtatious woman was gone. The stone-cold businesswoman on his arm was in full force, mentally cataloging what was wrong with her casino and what was needed to clean it up and turn a profit.

  The decor was classic tacky with gold-painted mountings on the walls swirling around, the music a low jazz with the various slot machines adding flashing lights and whistles, depending on the theme. It looked like a dozen other casinos he’d been in over the years, and it wouldn’t be out of place in Reno or Atlantic City.

  She led Cole up one aisle and down another, ending at the high-stakes poker tables set discreetly behind red rope barriers. A handful of players sat at a single table, looking bored and melancholy.

  “This—this won’t do.” She stepped away from him and pulled her phone out to take notes. As she tapped and drew on the screen Cole looked around, noting the security cameras set in the ceiling and the undercover men prowling the floor. He made his own mental notes on what needed to be done tomorrow when he came in to work on the security system. It was good, adequate for the number of customers in the casino, but the same sense of ennui contaminated their attitudes.

  That’d change with the first meeting.

  “Damn,” Kat murmured to herself, tucking her ph
one away. “Damn.” She trotted toward the bar and the stage, set at the front of the riverboat.

  Cole followed, immediately regretting the decision. The tight jeans gave him an excellent view of her ass, and for a second he flashed back to the spanking comment he’d made earlier.

  The memory went straight to his groin, combined with the hot rush from her kiss, and he coughed, trying to banish his inner eye imagining them in bed, how she would feel and taste, writhe under his . . .

  Kat stopped suddenly to avoid hitting a scooter as the elderly owner darted out from one aisle into the walkway.

  Cole almost ran into her from behind, still caught up in his fantasy.

  He grabbed her shoulder and she looked at him with a smile, taking in his bemused expression.

  Busted. He knew he’d been caught staring at her.

  His mouth went dry as he tried to think of an answer.

  “Come on,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s check out the entertainment.” She took his hand and pulled him even with her.

  He went with it, forcing himself back into business mode.

  Protect the target.

  The nightclub section of the riverboat had a series of tables, half empty, with a live band on the stage playing jazz. Cole scanned the handful of people, seeing no immediate danger.

  Other than dying of boredom.

  The sad thing was the music wasn’t half bad. He wasn’t an expert on the genre but knew a good tune and could appreciate the hard work being put in for little gain, as the near-empty tip jar set on the edge of the stage attested to.

  Cole stopped still as he spotted the man playing the piano, a fedora jauntily perched on his head as he stroked the ivory keys.

  Julien Devereaux.

  Judging by Kat’s reaction she’d seen him too. Her hand fell away from his as she stared at the stage.

  Cole smiled and crossed his arms, waiting for her reaction.

  Busted.

  He was . . . gorgeous.

  Kat held her breath watching Julien play, his head bobbing along to the tune being played by the bassist, a large African American with perfect pitch and rhythm. The drummer laughed as they kept going, accompanied by a saxophonist who knew when to be loud and when to be soft.

  She’d heard jazz before. She’d heard the piano in a variety of venues and in a variety of musical genres.

  But this . . .

  Kat felt the tug on her heart as the tune carried her far, far away from the casino floor.

  It was magical. Addictive.

  And no one was listening.

  She looked around, shocked at the lack of response from the patrons. A few tables held customers but they nattered to each other, ignoring the musical act.

  Kat wanted to step forward and smack each and every one of them in the back of the head and tell them to listen.

  Instead she watched and listened as Julien finished off a rolling series of notes striking right to her soul.

  He looked straight at her, smirked, and touched the brim of his fedora with a nod.

  “Is he supposed to do that?”

  Kat spun to see Cole standing behind her. He gestured at the stage. “He’s the manager, right? Isn’t it a conflict of interest for him to be playing here?”

  The hypnotic musical spell snapped as the business part of her kicked in, seeing little or no profit in the meager audience.

  Kat shook her head, pulling the cotton out of her mind. She went to the bar and ordered a drink before seating herself at one of the tables. Cole followed suit and joined her.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cole spoke.

  “So what are you going to do?” He nodded at the waitress who placed their drinks on the table.

  “I’m going to wait until he finishes his set.” Kat sipped the cola and rum. “Then I’m probably going to fire him.”

  Julien saw Kat the second she stepped in the room, the sashay of her hips calling him like a moth to the flame. His world narrowed to seeing her and her alone as she picked out an empty table and strolled to it with an attitude as if she owned the place.

  Which she did.

  She settled into the chair with a regal look to the stage, glancing over the band as if she hadn’t seen him and wasn’t going to acknowledge he was there.

  He knew better.

  She might have come in to inspect her possessions but she’d heard him and come straight to him as if he were the Pied Piper of old.

  Her guard dog was there as well, the man’s lips twisted into a disapproving look as he joined her to listen to the rest of the set.

  Henri, the bass player, noticed his distraction and gave him a sly wink and a nod of approval. He laid down a strong deep rumble with the bass, his fingers flying over the strings in a sensual dance.

  Julien laughed and shook his head, tapping his foot to keep count.

  She’d come to survey her property and see what needed to be done, quietly and subtly without drawing any attention to herself. A wise move which endeared her even more to him. The woman was going to be the best thing that happened to the Majestic, other than his own arrival.

  Julien made one last pass along the keys and grinned as Lenny finished the set with a saxophone solo. He nodded at the other band members as they took a break, wandering off to refresh themselves.

  Amid the light applause he walked to her table and sat next to her, not waiting or caring for Cole’s approval.

  “That was lovely.” Kat sipped her drink. A light blush colored her cheeks and he knew the music had gotten through her armor.

  But winning the battle didn’t give him the war.

  Julien tilted his head, waiting for her to finish.

  “Except it’s not exactly what I’m looking for in a manager.”

  He rolled his shoulders. “I’m off duty. I drop in here every now and then and jam with my buddies.” He didn’t look at Cole, didn’t need his approval. “There’s nothing in my employment agreement that stops me from doing it. I can’t play the tables here but I can play the piano.” He drummed his fingers on the table and saw how her soft, blue eyes followed his moves. “I don’t see it as a conflict of interest.”

  Julien waited for her response.

  It was easy to see the battle on her face, the lips pulled tight into a thin line as her attention went from him to the stage to the empty tables around them. The warring emotions gave way to a sad sigh. He saw her deciding which fight needed to take precedence.

  It wasn’t him and his piano playing.

  “I’ve been looking around and this place . . .” Kat shook her head. “This place is a dump. There’s so much wrong with it. I don’t know where to start.”

  “Of course. Because this is a clone of the previous owners’ casino in Reno. From the carpet to the walls, they copied it from top to bottom. And what works there won’t work here. New Orleans is a lady who won’t stand for cheap facsimiles clogging her streets. Say the word and I’ll start ripping it down tomorrow.” Julien slapped his hands together. He couldn’t keep the joy out of his voice, the happiness of finding someone who understood his worries and concerns. “Let me get some of those workmen outside scraping the barnacles and in here to strip the walls, recover the beauty underneath.”

  She hesitated and he saw the fear in her eyes. Mentally he wished her strength, the courage to do what he knew had to be done to save the Majestic.

  Be brave. Be daring.

  Be mine.

  “I know it’ll mean closing the casino for a few weeks. Maybe months. We’ll be bleeding for a bit, but think of it as cutting out the dead flesh so healing can begin. But when we reopen it’ll be quite the sight. The talk of the town.”

  Cole cleared his throat, drawing Julien’s attention away. “Quite.” The guard dog glared at him. “And if it fails?”

  “You’ll have a job no matter what, yes? Let’s be honest with each other.” Julien wagged a finger in the air. “If this doesn’t work and we close permanently you two go back
to your happy homes up north and I lose my job. No one’s going to die; no one’s going to be scarred for life. We’ll all move on. But if it works and I believe it will work—” He couldn’t stop the wide grin, the exuberance spilling out. “You will have given New Orleans back a part of itself. And that will be your legacy, a feather in the McMaster cap.”

  Kat chuckled. “You’re quite the sweet-talker. I’ve seen men like you before. Plenty of flash, very little substance.”

  Julien raised an eyebrow. “I like being busy.” He nodded toward the stage. “As you’ve seen.”

  “I’ve seen what money can do. I like it.” She took another sip and studied him. “If I let you off the leash, if I let you do what you want . . .” She paused and he saw her sizing him up, weighing the risks and benefits. “You answer to me and me alone. I approve everything from nuts to bolts and in between. You don’t move a rock, you don’t plant a bush without my knowledge.” She glanced at Cole. “If I’m going to go down in flames I deserve to know everything that’s going on.”

  Julien took her hand and squeezed. “Kat, if you go down we’ll be there together.” He eyed the security chief, unable to resist himself. “Even him, if you’d like.”

  Her pulse raced under his fingers, the stutter in her breath spinning a spell around his heart.

  Julien froze, shocked at the reaction he’d initiated. He’d expected some fun flirting with the new owner, maybe a casual tumble one night to satisfy their mutual curiosity, but this . . .

  This was something else.

  His own heart rate pounded in his ears, sounding like a fire alarm.

  Be mine.

  She blushed and stood, bringing both men to their feet. “Tomorrow.” Kat spun on one heel and headed back out toward the casino floor, not looking back.

  Julien nodded to Cole. “Better hurry before she gets away.”

  The bodyguard glared at him. “A piece of free advice: Don’t make her regret her decision.”

  “I won’t.” Julien smiled. “Will you?”

  He laughed as the man broke into a fast walk, hurrying to catch up to the beautiful woman ducking between the rows of slot machines.