by Kristi Gold
He strode to the closed bedroom door and sucked in a deep breath, commanding composure he didn’t remotely feel. But he had to remain composed, especially in light of Fiona’s fears. He needed to be cautious so she wouldn’t feel trapped or confined. Even though his body needed release, he would go slowly, carefully, earn her trust.
Entering the room, he was pleased to find her lying on the bed covered only by a sheet, a smile on her face. She didn’t appear to be at all wary or reluctant, a good thing, since he possessed an almost frantic need to be inside her, something he must temper in order to do their lovemaking justice.
She tossed back the sheet without hesitation. “Climb in.”
Darin set the condoms on the nightstand, and, just as he had one knee braced on the mattress, the phone began to ring. He chose to ignore it and slid into Fiona’s arms to kiss and caress her while they faced each other. After the fifth ring, he released a curse and snatched the receiver from the cradle. “What!”
“Is that any way to greet a friend?”
Ryan Evans. Another Cattleman’s Club member. Darin had not talked with him all that often since he’d become engaged to Carrie Whelan. “I presume you’re calling about the mission.”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
Fiona ran a palm down Darin’s bare thigh. “You know exactly what I need.”
Darin clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her, but not before it was already too late.
“You got a woman in that room with you, Darin?” The amusement was apparent in Ryan’s tone and in Fiona’s expression.
Darin, however, was not amused or willing to be forthcoming with the truth. “A member of the housekeeping staff has arrived.”
“Oh, yeah? Is she good with a vacuum?”
“Business, Ryan,” Darin said, his patience a thin thread about to snap.
“Okay, business. Alex wanted me to call you because the information we’ve acquired came from the Bureau. Since you’re so hell-bent on working by yourself, he has divided loyalties. That’s why I’m telling you…to keep him out of the middle.”
Darin sat up on the edge of the bed, his back to Fiona, who stroked her fingertip up and down his spine, threatening his attention. “What information?”
“A man fitting the description of Birkenfeld has been known to gamble at Lost Springs before on a regular basis, as recently as night before last, the same night the woman got beat up. One dealer commented that Birkenfeld claims his luck is better at Lost Springs than anywhere else. I know it’s not much, but it could mean he might be back.”
“I agree.”
“So here’s what we’ve come up with. In about twenty minutes or so, a tuxedo will be delivered to your room. We figure you can dress up and go down to the casino, check out the tables.”
Darin despised the thought of wearing formal clothing, something he had not done in years. “Why is that attire necessary?”
“Lost Springs caters to high rollers. You’ll blend in better with the crowd. Birkenfeld will spot you a mile away if you’re wearing your usual black army gear. I’m not sure what you need to do with your hair to make you less recognizable, but I figure you’ll come up with something.”
Darin already had the kaffiyeh his cousin had insisted he bring with him. He made a mental note to thank Ben later. “I will handle it.”
“Now, the dealer claims that the doctor comes in around six, stays for a couple of hours, then usually comes back after midnight to plunk down the big bucks. That’s his usual habit, anyway. Who knows if he’ll be back at all, but it’s worth a shot. Gambling is his drug and he’ll have to get a fix now that he has more stolen funds.”
“From the tourist he robbed?”
“Yeah. She made a positive ID from the mug shot. Seems she had a grand in the safe when the bastard beat her up. But that probably won’t be enough for him to get where he needs to go.”
Darin consulted the bedside clock—5:30 p.m. Barely enough time to get a shower, get dressed and get downstairs. Ryan’s call served to remind him that he should remain single-minded in his goal to apprehend Birkenfeld. He had lost sight of that because of his preoccupation with Fiona. He vowed to concentrate on his assignment and keep his hands off her. At least for the moment. “My instincts tell me he will be back, if only to find me.”
“He knows you’re there?”
Darin believed he could reveal more to Ryan since the rancher, who was somewhat a rebel himself, would understand. “He left a clue behind in my friend’s apartment, after he destroyed many of her belongings. I believe he blames me for his initial capture and now that he knows I’m searching for him, he wants revenge.”
“Good. Then he can walk into your trap.”
“Exactly.”
“Is this friend the woman Alex told us about? The one who answered your phone?”
“Yes.”
Ryan chuckled. “And she works in housekeeping at the hotel? That’s pretty damned convenient.”
“She is not an employee of the hotel.”
“Well, she must be pretty special if she’s convinced you to take her along for the ride.”
“I only intend to protect her.” His insistence sounded too defensive, and false.
“Good luck. Let us know how it goes.”
“I will.”
“And one more thing, Shakir.”
Darin braced for a warning about keeping his mind on the mission. “Yes?”
“I should’ve killed the son of a bitch after he kidnapped Carrie, when I had the chance. Now I’m relying on you to do whatever you have to do to stop this guy. So go get him.”
“You can rest assured I will.”
After hanging up the phone, Darin looked back at Fiona, who had turned on her side, one arm beneath the pillow, the sheet now fully covering her body. “You have to go somewhere, don’t you?” Both her tone and expression revealed her disappointment.
He shifted and resisted the urge to kiss her, wishing he could discard all his responsibility and spend the rest of the evening endeavoring to make her feel good. “We have information that Birkenfeld could come here to gamble tonight, possibly in less than a half hour. I need to shower before they deliver the tuxedo.”
She sat up and the sheet fell to reveal her bare breasts, bringing Darin’s body back to life. “Tuxedo?”
“So that I will blend in with the crowd.”
“I want to go with you.”
He expected this. “No. You must remain here, out of harm’s way.”
“If Birkenfeld happens to find me here before you find him, then I’ll still be in harm’s way.”
“Lock the door and stay near the phone. You can call me on my cell phone, and I will be here in a matter of moments if you need me.”
“Yeah, sure. After you wait for an empty elevator or run up hundreds of stairs. By that time, I’ll be dead.”
Darin clasped her by the shoulders, propelled by a searing fear he could not explain. “Do not ever say that.”
“Okay, okay. Lighten up.” She ran her slender fingers up his arm in what should have been a gesture of reassurance, but to Darin there was something inherently sensual in the action. “I’ll hit him over the head with the silver ice bucket if I have to. You just go ahead and do your thing while I stare at the ceiling and think about what might have happened if duty or the bellman hadn’t called.”
He palmed her jaw and kissed her softly. “I will be imagining it, as well. And tonight we will finish this.”
She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “If you say so.”
“I promise.” A promise he hoped he could keep.
“Okay. Go take your shower now before I force you to change your mind and stay here with me.” When Darin stood again, she sent a pointed look at his erection. “Take a really cold shower.”
“That will not work.”
She threw back the covers, exposing all of her enticing body. “I could take a shower
with you.”
“And I would definitely be late and quite possibly miss Birkenfeld. I will also need you to answer the door when the tuxedo arrives.”
She came to her knees and grinned. “Do you want me to answer it like this?”
He couldn’t stop his own smile or the fact that he grew harder before her eyes. “I only want you answering the door without your clothes if I am on the other side.”
“That I can do.”
Before he turned away from her, he took one last visual journey over her body, the pink-tinged nipples, the curve of her waist, the ginger shading between her thighs, subjecting himself to torture of the sweetest kind. “You’ll find my wallet in the side pocket of the bag. Feel free to take some cash to tip the delivery person. You may charge to the room anything else you need. You only have to sign for it.”
“Can I go downstairs and buy some souvenirs in the gift shop?”
“No. But you may have food delivered, and it’s best you do that while I’m here.”
She settled back on the bed and sighed. “Okay. I’ll order some munchies and rent an in-room movie to keep me entertained. Maybe even a dirty one.” She smiled again. “Then when you get back, I’ll show you what I’ve learned.”
Darin headed into the bathroom, no longer trusting his control. He only hoped that he could trust Fiona to stay in the room as she’d been instructed to do.
Fiona laid the tuxedo on the bed, grabbed several hundred dollar bills from Scorpio’s wallet, stuffed them into her jeans pocket, then left the room before Scorpio came out of the bathroom and caught her disobeying.
She’d be damned if she was going to let him continue this chase without her. What better way to blend in than as a couple? But she did have one problem, nothing suitable to wear that would look nice next to his tuxedo, something she was about to remedy, as soon as she got on the elevator.
After punching the down button, she waited for an eternity for the car to heed her call. When it finally arrived, she gave herself a mental pep talk. She could do this without Scorpio. She could get on that moving torture chamber like a big girl and be no worse for the wear.
She kept telling herself that very thing for a good thirty seconds until the doors closed before she convinced her sneakers to move forward. Totally frustrated over her cowardice, she opted to take the stairs to the bottom floor and deal with her fear later. Right now she had to find a nice evening dress.
By the time Fiona reached the bottom level housing the boutiques, she was winded and a little weak, but that had more to do with thoughts of Scorpio and their afternoon interlude and the promise he’d made to finish it tonight.
She walked the corridors past several shops until a sassy, short, emerald-green dress on display behind the glass front of one store caught her attention. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She entered the boutique and approached a saleslady who wore lipstick the brightest shade of candy-apple red that Fiona had ever seen. “May I help you, honey?” the clerk asked, revealing a wide smile and a slash of lipstick across her incisors.
Fiona hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “The green dress in the window. I’d like to try it on.”
The woman eyed her up and down. “You’re what, about a size two?”
At least she hadn’t asked if Fiona could afford it, which she couldn’t. But Scorpio could. She’d just have to find a way to pay him back. “Actually, a four, depending on how well it accommodates my, uh—”
“Bust?”
“Yeah. It can be a problem.”
“Honey, a lot of women would give their eyeteeth for your boobies. I’m sure the cut of the dress will make them look just lovely.”
Boobies? Lovely? She’d settle for a good fit. “Well, I guess we’ll see, then.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Hot Lips disappeared in the back, then came out with the dress. “Let’s get you settled in a fitting room and see how this works.”
It couldn’t have worked better, Fiona thought a few minutes later as she admired the cocktail dress in the trifold mirror outside the dressing room. The hem stopped about two inches above her knee, the satin clung to her curves, and the halter top fit her to perfection.
Not only would it complement Scorpio’s tux, it could very well drive him to distraction considering it was low-cut and backless. And if the doctor didn’t make an appearance tonight, then maybe this particular dress could help persuade Scorpio to go up to the room a little earlier than planned. A girl could hope.
“I’ll take it,” she told Hot Lips who stood nearby, appropriately oohing and aahing.
“A fine choice, honey. Will you need stockings and shoes?”
Oh, heck, she hadn’t thought about that. She also hadn’t thought about the time. After checking her watch, she said, “Yes, thigh-high stockings and heels, nothing too spiked. Do you have a house phone I could use?”
The clerk pointed toward the cashier counter. “Right there, honey. Size six shoes?”
Wrong again, Hot Lips. “Size eight. My feet are almost as big as my boobies .”
The clerk threw back her head and released a screech of a laugh, drawing the attention and disdain of some silver-haired, bespectacled older woman inspecting the rack of satin pajamas. “Just come over and try them on after you make your call,” Hot Lips said, and swayed away.
Fiona drew a deep breath and dialed the room number. Scorpio answered the phone within seconds, his hello anything but friendly.
“Look, before you get mad—”
“Where are you?”
Too late. He was already mad. Very mad. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m downstairs, picking up a few things for the evening.”
“Did I not say you are to remain in the room?”
“Yes, you did. But—”
“You are taking a huge risk.”
Fiona knew all too well that she had a fight on her hands trying to convince him to let her join him. A battle she would definitely undertake—and win. “I promise you I’m fine, Scorpio.” She looked around the room only to find the same woman still searching through racks of loungewear, totally disinterested in Fiona. “The coast is clear, so stop worrying. And don’t leave before I tell you goodbye.” Before she told him exactly what she had planned.
“I will wait until you return. But if you are not here in fifteen minutes, I will come looking for you.”
“I’ll be back by then.”
After Scorpio hung up without saying goodbye, Fiona quickly tried on the pair of shoes the clerk had selected and paid for her purchase with nothing left to spare. Four hundred dollars would take a chunk out of her savings, but it would be well worth it—if Scorpio agreed to the strategy.
Restored by a rush of adrenaline, Fiona took the stairs again, thinking she needed to start jogging during the week instead of just on weekends if she was going to engage in this kind of adventure. But after this was over, she would settle back into her old routine at the bar until she finished school in May. Then she would get a job, hopefully as an assistant manager at a trendy hotel, gain some experience and enough money to purchase her own place. She might have to start small, a bed and breakfast inn, but she’d do it. And maybe she would meet a man like Scorpio, only he would be willing to stick around.
Except she wasn’t sure she would ever find someone like him. Someone who could so effectively take her breath away with just a look. Someone who could make love to her with skill and care. Someone who could stop her cold with deadly dark eyes, the way he did right then when she entered the hotel room and found him sitting on the sofa, scowling.
But gosh, he looked gorgeous in the white shirt that contrasted with his skin, the black tuxedo slacks that lent him an air of sophistication. He didn’t have on a tie or jacket yet but she imagined he would look incredibly debonair once the ensemble was complete. If only she lived to see it.
“Where have you been?” he asked, not bothering to stand.
Fiona gripped the dress and bag to h
er chest. “At a boutique. I bought something to wear so I can go with you.”
“Impossible.”
She ventured forward a few steps. “Actually, it’s very possible. I just have to take a quick shower and get dressed.”
“You must remain here.”
Fiona shifted the bag to one arm and propped a hand on her hip. “I’m going to do no such thing. We’ve been in this together as a team, and we should remain a team. Besides, what do you know about gambling?”
“I know enough.”
“Enough? Which probably means not much. But I do know how to gamble, Scorpio.” She’d been taking a terrific gamble from the moment she’d met him. “I can play blackjack and roulette. I can also play the role of girlfriend to your sugar daddy.”
“Birkenfeld could recognize you.”
“And he’s not going to recognize you?”
“I intend to disguise myself.”
“With what? A mask? That’s going to look a little obvious since it’s not Halloween and this isn’t New Orleans. Now if you wore an Elvis costume, I’d say that would work.”
“Trust me, I will make myself look quite different.”
“How?”
“You will have to wait and see.”
Fiona walked past him, heading to the bathroom. “I’ll see it as soon as I get dressed.”
“It is already past six. I need to go downstairs to see if Birkenfeld has arrived.”
She faced him and frowned. “If he is here, which I kind of doubt he will be, don’t you think he’s going to stay a while?”
He stood. “Regardless, you need to remain here while I search the premises.”
Fiona pulled out her last wild card. “And I’ll come looking for you. So what’s it gonna be? You escorting me downstairs playing bodyguard? Or are you going to make me walk through the casino all by myself?”
He released a rough sigh. “I am asking you to understand why I prefer you to stay here. You would be vulnerable to him.”
“And I would be vulnerable here, too, even more so, and that’s if he’s after me, which I don’t think he is. But if he is, he’s not going to try to kill me in a crowd. That would be utterly stupid. He might be the devil’s clone, but he’s not stupid.”
