More Than a Man

by Rebecca York

  She blew her nose. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

  He shook his head. “One man can’t keep it alive.”

  “But you try.”

  “It’s too much of a responsibility.”

  The way he said it made her wonder if he wasn’t half serious.

  Before she could work her way through that, he asked, “Better?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  She tipped her head to the side, studying him. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “You know it’s good.”

  He shrugged. “Few people have the insight to see the impact they make on others.”

  She laughed. “I did. When I was working as a dancer. I was talented, but it was pretty obvious men saw me as a sex object.”

  “They didn’t look very far. There’s a hell of a lot more to you than a pretty face and a great body.”

  “Thanks. But how do you know?”

  “I’m a good judge of people. Where did you dance?”

  “At one of the big hotels on the Strip.”

  “Why did you stop dancing? Did you get caught in the economic downturn?”

  “No. I was on the fast track for a big featured role. Then a drunk driver in the parking lot ended my career.”

  “Ouch.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  “Did they catch him?”

  She shook her head.

  Noah gave her a considering look. “How do you know he was drunk?”

  The question took her by surprise. “I just assumed…you know.”

  “I’ve learned not to make assumptions,” he said, the words hard-edged.

  The way he said it sent a little chill skittering over her skin. Could somebody have hit her on purpose?

  But who? And why?

  Who would gain from that?

  Her brother’s smirking face leaped into her mind. But she simply couldn’t deal with thoughts of him deliberately setting her up. She shook them away and focused on Noah. “I’m finally back on my feet, but I won’t be dancing professionally again. It’s just too much strain for someone who injured a leg.”

  “You got workers’ compensation?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Yes. But it’s run out.”

  He kept his gaze on her. “Before we were so rudely interrupted in the garden, you were going to tell me what’s bothering you. I guess it was losing your job?”

  She heard the question in his voice. And wondered how she was going to answer.

  Chapter Four

  Olivia struggled with a surge of emotion. The offer was so tempting. It would be such a relief to tell Noah Fielding the whole truth. Pearson had gotten her into bad trouble. Well, not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough.

  She’d seen how Noah handled Eddie Carlson’s brother. Maybe he could handle her brother, too. Make him back off from his dirty little plot aimed at rich guys who wanted to make sure that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.

  But the idea of admitting to Noah that she was involved in a shameful scheme to blackmail men made her chest tighten painfully.

  She liked Noah and he liked her. What would he think if she told him that desperation and coercion had driven her to the edge of doing something criminal?

  She took a breath and exhaled. Before she could give in to temptation, she said, “It’s personal.”

  “All right.”

  The flat way he said it made her half wish she had the guts to trust him. But she simply couldn’t do it. Maybe because it was too important for him to think well of her.

  “I’d better go,” she said.

  He’d scooped her up as if she was light as a cloud. Now it was awkward climbing out of his lap and she felt even more awkward as she reached to pull down her tight dress and twist the skirt back into place.

  He gave her a long look that made her insides quiver. Before she could change her mind, she turned and fled.

  NOAH waited until Olivia was out the door. He didn’t know why she had become important to him, but she had, in a very short time. Hurrying to the door, he opened it a crack and watched her waiting for the elevator. When it arrived and she stepped inside, he hurried down the hall and pressed the button, hoping the next car would arrive quickly.

  As he shifted his weight from foot to foot, he thought about running down the stairs. He was fast, but he wasn’t a superhero. From the seventeenth floor, he would never make it before she walked out of the elevator lobby. Then he’d lose her in the crowded casino.

  When the next car came, he leaped inside, startling a couple who looked like they’d gotten into something kinky on the rooftop observation deck.

  By the time they’d exited on the eighth floor and he’d reached the lobby, Olivia was nowhere in sight.

  So where would she go?

  He thought about the guy who had been watching her in the Fountain Bar. Maybe he expected her to report in. Maybe she’d oblige him and maybe she wouldn’t.

  He headed toward the bar, which was also near the hotel’s entrance onto the Strip. When he spotted her, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Then he saw that she was talking to the guy in question, who wasn’t exactly acting like her best buddy.

  Noah’s first impulse was to rush over to them and get into the middle of the conversation. He could make sure the man understood it would be dangerous to hurt Olivia. Anybody who did that would have to deal with Noah Fielding.

  As his logical mind considered the consequences of such impulsive behavior, he wasn’t sure the threat would have the desired effect. Olivia and the guy both presumably lived in Las Vegas, and Noah was only in town for a few days. He might frighten the man in the short-run, but that left a whole lot of time afterward when Olivia would have to deal with any local problems on her own.

  Noah had had centuries of practice reading body language. He might have said his life had depended on it, but of course, death was not an option for him.

  As he studied the pair, he was sure they knew each other well. Husband and wife? He clenched his fist, hoping that wasn’t true. Not when she’d been so responsive in his arms.

  Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he studied both their faces and noticed a similarity about their features. There was a definite family resemblance. The guy’s face was a masculine version of Olivia’s, but while Noah sensed an underlying honesty in her, the man came across as a slime.

  It wasn’t just his features. From the guy’s posture, Noah would bet he wanted to get rough with Olivia, but he couldn’t do it in a public place.

  Confirming Noah’s suspicion, the man looked around the hotel lobby. When nobody appeared to be watching the little drama, he made a grab for her arm. His fingers touched down on her skin, but her reflexes were excellent, and before he could latch on to her, she pulled from his grasp.

  The attacker made a low sound as they stood confronting each other.

  She raised her chin and met his gaze, although Noah could see she was making an effort to keep her lips from trembling. “Leave me alone.”

  From where he stood inside the casino, Noah was too far away to actually hear the words, but over the years he’d learned how to read lips.

  “Remember what I said about Dad,” the guy answered. “The wrong news about you could kill him.”

  The rejoinder confirmed that they were brother and sister.

  She took a step back. “Would you really do that to a sick old man?”

  “If I have to. Anything that happens will be on your head.”

  “You’ve got that wrong.”

  Ignoring her, he asked, “What about that guy you left with? Where did you go?”

  “None of your business.” She gave him a hard look. “As far as I’m concerned, this charade is over.”

  The brother’s look could have withered a whole flower garden. Before he could come back with a retort, Olivia turned and marched out of the building.

  She’d given as good as
she got in the verbal sparring match, but that didn’t solve her basic problem. Now that Noah knew about the hit-and-run accident, he could see the slight hitch in her gait. If she couldn’t dance, how was she going to support herself?

  And why was that his problem? Noah asked himself.

  His gaze shot back to the brother. Stapler, if that was his name, slapped his right fist into the palm of his left hand, hard enough for Noah to hear the cracking sound.

  Noah waited with his heart pounding while the guy decided what to do. Finally, he shrugged and walked toward the casino, and Noah turned toward a slot machine, pretending that he was going to drop some quarters.

  As soon as the man breezed past him, he made for the door and stepped into the humid night air—just in time to see Olivia heading along the front of the casino.

  Maybe she was afraid the brother was going to follow her because she stopped and looked behind her, and Noah was glad that he was still in the shadow of the building.

  She took a deep breath and let it out, then started down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of downtown.

  It was easy to keep out of sight when he joined the crowd of people walking along the Strip, even after midnight. The chase became more difficult when she reached a cross street and turned left onto a route less traveled.

  All the casinos along the Strip were relatively new. As soon as one got a little shopworn, a developer tore it down and put up the latest, greatest attraction to pull in the people who liked to gamble in a fantasy environment.

  You could take your pick of exotic locales. Paris. New York. Italy. Ancient Egypt. The Arabian Nights. King Arthur’s Court. Treasure Island.

  But the buildings on the side streets hadn’t undergone a similar restoration process. Especially in the older part of town.

  As soon as Olivia left the brightly lit casino area, she disappeared into shadow, and Noah didn’t know if she was still on the sidewalk. Then she stepped into a pool of light, and he saw her walking into an area of low-rise buildings. Some were motels, others apartments.

  He followed her, keeping well back, wondering why he was compelled to stay on her trail. He’d just met her a few hours ago, and they hardly knew each other. But over the years he had learned to trust his hunches, so he kept going.

  Las Vegas was a city of contrasts. By the time she was two blocks from the back of the casino, the neighborhood had deteriorated considerably. The buildings were run-down, the cars on the street were older models, many of them banged-up, and the sidewalk was littered with trash.

  He was appalled at the idea of her walking in this neighborhood, but all he could do was follow. Finally she reached a set of stucco buildings that might have been called garden apartments if they had had any greenery around them.

  When she turned in at one of them, he sped up. From the open air landing, grimy cement steps led up two stories and down to basement apartments. He didn’t know which way Olivia had gone, but he felt a wash of relief when he saw her name on a mailbox. She was in 1A, which must be one of the lower-level units.

  As he stood breathing in the dry desert air, he took in his surroundings. The buildings were separated from the sidewalk by a three-foot-wide strip of dark gravel. The doors to the units needed a good coat of paint, some of the treads were off the stairs and kids had spray-painted graffiti on some of the stucco walls.

  Not a very attractive place to live, he thought. Probably she’d had a better apartment when she’d been working and she’d been forced to move here after she’d lost her job.

  He wanted to knock on her door. And then what? Say that he’d followed her home? In her eyes, that might make him a stalker. Even if she were glad to see him, she’d probably be embarrassed for him to find out where she was living.

  He stayed for a few more minutes, debating what to do. Finally he turned and walked back the way he’d come. He was going to be in town for several more days. Maybe Olivia would show up in the hotel bar again.

  He knew her brother was trying to involve her in some kind of scheme that she didn’t like. And she’d been embarrassed to talk about it with a stranger.

  Even as he considered his next move, his saner self told him to back off. She hadn’t wanted to involve him, and that should be the end of it.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he returned to the hotel. He went directly to the conference center, where he registered for the meeting he was here to attend. Days ago when he’d studied the online program, he’d been interested in the lineup of speakers and topics. Now he had to force himself to look through the brochure and decide which sessions to attend.

  After checking off some possibilities while he ate in one of the fancier restaurants, he called Thomas to find out how Simon was doing.

  His chief of staff was optimistic, although it was still too early for the medication to have kicked in. At least the boy was where he couldn’t get into trouble.

  AS soon as she’d gotten home, Olivia had drawn the drapes and put the chain on the door—not that either one of those measures would stop Pearson if he wanted to break into her apartment. She knew from experience that her brother could go into a fit of violence without considering the consequences until too late.

  When she checked her answering machine, she found a message from the nursing home in New Jersey. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she called back immediately, even though she could hardly afford the charges.

  “This is Olivia Stapler. Mrs. Warren left a message about my father.”

  “Just a moment.”

  She waited with her tension mounting. Finally the nurse came on the line.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Stapler is growing less aware of his surroundings.”

  “Can I speak to him?”

  “I’m sorry. He probably wouldn’t know who you are.”

  They talked for a few more minutes. Then Olivia thanked the nurse for calling and hung up, ashamed that she felt a sense of relief. If her father was losing touch with the world, that made it less likely that Pearson could tell him lies about her.

  Which gave her more freedom than she’d thought she had.

  As she shuffled through the stack of unpaid bills she’d set on the dining room table, she let her imagination take her into a little fantasy. Noah Fielding would marry her and whisk her off to his castle. And Pearson would be left to stew in his own juices.

  What would Noah’s house be like? He wasn’t one of those guys who showed off his wealth with fancy clothes or fancy jewelry, but he’d quietly given away three million dollars a few days ago, which argued that he wasn’t worried about money.

  She’d bet he cared about where he lived. Maybe he had a horse farm in Kentucky or a mountain retreat in Colorado. Or he could live on a yacht. Yes, she could picture him sailing from port to port.

  Did his accent give her a clue about where he came from? Maybe she could hear British undertones in his speech, but she wasn’t sure.

  Who were his parents? How had they raised him? Had they given him his old-world sensibility, or had he acquired his polish after he’d left home?

  How old was he? Had he been married before? She should have asked him questions about himself.

  She pulled herself up short. Why? She’d met him in a casino bar and she wasn’t going to see him again.

  The idea of his whisking her away like a knight on a white horse was very appealing, but unfortunately not very realistic.

  Yet the two of them had seemed so compatible in the time they’d been together.

  She made another sound of derision—this one directed at herself. Guys were always willing to take what a woman offered, she reminded herself. Noah would have made love with her if she hadn’t gotten up and left his room.

  Still, she knew that what had taken place between them was more than sexual. She’d been drawn to him more strongly than she had been to any other man she’d ever met.

  Fantasies about Noah Fielding won’t do you much good, said an inner voice. You have to do something
for yourself. She shook her head. As far as she could see, the only solution to her problem was getting out of town.

  But how was she going to manage it? She’d already borrowed as much money as she could from some of her friends in the chorus line. But she still had some of her mother’s jewelry.

  On shaky legs she walked to the tiny bedroom, opened the top dresser drawer and got out the blue velvet jewelry box where she kept the few good pieces that Mom had left her. She carried the box to the bed, sat down and lifted the lid. Inside was a gold ring with a one-carat diamond, a gold charm bracelet and a pearl choker. All of them were precious to her, because they were all she had left of her mother.

  Mom had died of a heart condition when she was still young, leaving Olivia and Pearson with their father. Maybe that was what had happened to her brother. He’d lost his footing when Mom had died. She might have, too, but she’d thrown herself into dancing and taking over the mother role in the family.

  While Dad had appreciated that, it had seemed like Pearson had resented her trying to hold things together. Nothing she did was good enough.

  At least they’d had Mom’s insurance policy. Olivia had used her share of the money for dance lessons—until she’d discovered that Pearson was getting money out of Dad to start a retail business, which had gone down the tubes, of course.

  She shifted her thoughts away from her brother and back to her own problems. The jewelry was her only source of cash. There were pawnshops all over Vegas. She’d get what she could for the family heirlooms and when she got back on her feet, she’d redeem them.

  You’re having another fantasy, said that wise inner voice .

  Olivia knew that was true. If she pawned these pieces, she’d never see them again. Still, wasn’t the important point that she needed to get out of town?

  She shuddered. Leaving town was such a big step. Really, she couldn’t take much with her. Maybe she needed to think about it for a few days.

  But suppose Pearson came knocking at her door in the meantime?

  NOAH managed to stick with the convention for the next day and a half.