Deadly Odds

by Adrienne Giordano

  And sex.

  Right now, Kate had that laugh.

  And it wasn’t directed at him.

  Which sucked on many levels. The first being obvious.

  But, hang on, cowboy. Women came and went in his life. Kate? Well, he’d let himself hope they were working on building something. Or at least figuring out if they could be compatible.

  She’d told him she wasn’t in a relationship. He believed that. Now? He wasn’t sure what was happening. All he knew was he didn’t play in another man’s sandbox. His own code of honor he supposed.

  Walking away would be an option. Not even alerting her of his presence. But he couldn’t do that. If nothing else, she needed to know he cared enough to check on her.

  He shoved back the curtain.

  A tall guy wearing jeans and a cotton button-down leaned against the windowsill. Holstered weapon and badge at his waist.

  The ex Kate had mentioned was a cop. John something. Why would he be here? Unless, they were still…

  Huh.

  Slowly, Kate shifted her head from the cop to Ross, still in the doorway. Her eyebrows lifted, barely, which was so damned typical of cool, calm Kate.

  “Hi,” she said, her gaze momentarily shifting to the cop.

  Yeah. Awkward.

  Awkward had never been an issue before and it wouldn’t start now. Ross rolled right over it, walked to the bed, extended his hand to the cop. “Ross Cooper.”

  “John Nawson, Vegas PD.”

  Yep. The ex. Now that the mystery had been solved, all he needed to know was if Nawson’s visit was a business or social call?

  He turned to Kate. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. Just waiting for the test results. They don’t think my ribs are broken but I might have a mild concussion.”

  He flicked a glance at John then went back to Kate, their eyes holding for a long minute because, hell, Ross didn’t know what to do. Stay. Go. What? “I, uh, didn’t know you had someone here.”

  Any other time, he’d just confirm she was in good hands and bolt.

  Yet, he was still here because he didn’t want to be the man walking out.

  I’m screwed.

  “Actually,” Nawson said, his gaze shooting between Kate and Ross, “someone’s covering for me. If you can stay, I should hit it.”

  Interesting. If Kate and this guy had a thing, there’s no way he’d leave her. At least he hoped not.

  But who knew?

  Holy hell, a million questions rammed through his brain. Why is he here? Who were you meeting with?

  The granddaddy of them all? What about a murderer at Fortuna?

  Kate continued to stare at him, those green eyes not giving away a damned thing. “That’s up to Kate,” Ross said, hoping like hell she gave him the answer that would make his day.

  She turned to John, held out her hand and Ross drilled his heels into the ground, determined not to react. Too far gone. That was his problem. Somehow he’d let himself get crazy over this woman. And now, he stood anticipating what’s-his-name grabbing hold and it would fry Ross, absolutely burn a hole in him.

  Something, with his history, he had no right to feel.

  Screwed.

  What’s-his-name didn’t grab on. Not fully. He gripped the end of her fingers, waggled them a little and let go.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t let you come here alone.” He jerked his head in Ross’s direction. “Now you’re not alone. I’ll let you know about witnesses. Call me if you need something.”

  She won’t. The words almost left Ross’s mouth. Check that. Offering that up was almost begging for a fight with Kate. A woman who made her own choices, picked her own friends.

  Her own lovers.

  She’d kick his ass five different ways if he tried any alpha crap on her.

  He stepped aside and watched Nawson go, kept his eyes on him for a few seconds, stalling, getting his thoughts aligned before he had to face Kate and try to figure out exactly what he’d missed. Between an attempted shooting, a murderer running around Fortuna and the ex-boyfriend, he needed some answers.

  Ones Kate apparently had and chose not to share.

  Busy day so far.

  He turned front, found her waiting on him.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said.

  He had no idea what to think. “Who says I’m thinking anything?”

  “Well, that’s certainly a man-thing to say.”

  “I don’t know what I should say. I’m…standing here. Not knowing what to do. And for me, that’s saying something.”

  “I called him—John—this morning. He’s an excellent detective with great contacts.”

  “Okay. That was smart.”

  She patted the bed, inviting him to have a seat. He could be an ass and stay put. In fact, he wanted to be an ass.

  Mainly because his nerves were gassed and sitting, staying idle, would do him no good. But he’d compromise. Ross walked to the bed, propped one hip on the side, letting his leg swing. She rested her hand over his, sliding her fingertips under the sleeve of his jacket and his body, as usual responded. He wanted her. All day, all night. Constantly.

  Even when she was in a damned hospital bed.

  “John’s a homicide detective. I wondered if he had any information on Dale Cousins. Plus, Mark was investigating Dale.”

  “Whoa. That’s news.”

  Kate nodded. “I couldn’t say anything. I wasn’t even sure what it was about. Mark had floated his name, but hadn’t given me anything else. Now they’re both dead. I was hoping John had information on the dealer and maybe that information could link the two cases. I also wanted to ask him about the message I found in my room. The handprint.”

  “And to tell him about the guy you saw at Fortuna. Right? The hook nose you failed to mention.”

  “Okay,” she said, “I can see how this looks bad. Like I kept it from you.”

  “You did keep it from me.”

  “Not intentionally. At the time, I didn’t make the connection. He was just some random guy in the casino playing with his phone.”

  “And when did he become not-so-random?”

  Because that was the meat of this thing. How long had she known and been keeping it from him?

  “This morning. After I left Fortuna.”

  Good. She hadn’t known for three days.

  A bit of relief bullied free from his shoulders. All that tension from hours of worrying about her easing.

  “Angel,” she continued, “the woman who’d told me about Mark, emailed me a photo of a man seen in the area where Mark was murdered. I didn’t see the email until I reached the meeting with John. When I hadn’t responded to the email, Angel texted me. Told me to check my email.”

  “And the photo? It’s the same guy you saw at Fortuna?”

  “I’m not sure. It could be. I’m guessing you heard that part of the conversation.”

  “Yeah.” He waved a hand toward the curtain. “I wasn’t eavesdropping.” Kate gave him a look and he smiled. “Well, maybe I was eavesdropping.”

  “It’s all right. I probably would have.”

  She ran her fingers over the back of his hand, idly moving one direction then the other. By the unfocused look in her eyes, he figured the gesture wasn’t meant to be sexual, but all that stroking?

  Yeah, she couldn’t do that too long or he’d be leaving here with a boner.

  He flipped his hand over, wrapped his fingers around hers. “So what happened with this truck?”

  “I was leaving the meeting with John. I stepped into the parking lot, not paying attention and some white pickup flew by. The passenger shot at me. John was still there so he called 911. He’s a good man. Like you, he didn’t want me to be alone. So he followed the ambulance here. That’s all. I didn’t purposely keep anything from you. I just wasn’t sure how it all fit together and didn’t want to unnecessarily alarm you.”

  Which left the other question… �
�You’re not back with him?”

  Damn, he sounded like a putz. Practically whining.

  “No. It’s over.”

  Ross nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t like myself when we talk about him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m jealous. And I hate that. I don’t want it. What I want is to sit here with you, get you sprung from this place and take you back to the hotel where you can rest and I can take care of you. We’ll put security at your door, too. Unless you want to go home. I’ll talk to Samuels. Tell him what happened and that you need a few days. We’ll get you security at your house. Whatever you want. I’ll get it for you.”

  “Thank you. It’s not necessary though. I’ll be fine at the hotel. Whatever is going on, it just escalated. If I’m at the hotel and get tired, I’ll just go back to my room.”

  “I won’t argue with you. I want you close.”

  She nodded, then winced. Ross leaned over, kissed her just above her eyebrow. “Try not to move.”

  “I know, but it’s hard.”

  “When John left, he said something about witnesses. What was that?”

  “There were people in the diner. He’s trying to find someone who saw the shooter or the driver.”

  “Would you recognize them?”

  “No. All I saw was an arm. But it definitely wasn’t an accident. They were aiming for me.”

  * * *

  By 6:00, Kate had woken up from a four-hour nap. She lay staring at the ceiling, trying not to focus too hard on any one thing.

  All that concentration made her skull ache.

  Outside her door, Ross had stationed a security guard. He and Don had gone on a full bender insisting she needed the protection and her head hurt too damned much too argue.

  As much as she hated to admit it, the events of the day terrified her. Even as a federal agent, she’d never been shot at and the images of that truck roaring toward her, the gun poking out the window, the loud bang, all of it looped in her mind.

  Someone had tried to kill her.

  She’d come out of it on the positive side. If a minor concussion and a set of bruised ribs—as opposed to a fatal gunshot wound—were her only injuries she’d consider it a win.

  The pain meds helped, but not enough to convince Don and Ross she could return to work today. That argument landed with a giant thud. When the two of them teamed up, they could be formidable.

  So she’d compromised, telling them she’d rest up for the remainder of the day and then hit it hard again in the morning.

  Whether they liked it or not. Whoever had targeted her, would not, under any circumstances, break her.

  And they certainly wouldn’t get another opportunity to take a shot at her.

  A soft knock brought her from her study of the ceiling. This would be a good trial run at getting up. She rolled to the side, the soft bed cushioning each movement. Great bed. Best bed ever. Even if she couldn’t move all that fast, it wasn’t an awful pace. A soak in the tub would probably help her battered ribs.

  She glanced down at her yoga pants and tank top and thought back to when Ross had walked her to her room. He’d waited for her to change, had even turned his back before helping her into bed so she could sleep. The last thing she remembered was him kissing her on the forehead and leaving her pills and a glass of water on the nightstand.

  The knock came again. “Coming.”

  “Ms. Daniels? It’s Trent. You have a room service delivery.”

  Trent. The security guard.

  And room service.

  Coming out of the fog of medication was no easy feat, but her growling stomach had definitely registered a lack of food for the day.

  If she could hold anything down would be another matter. Her body craving nourishment was a positive sign.

  She ran her fingers over her bedhead, checked the peep hole and spotted Trent on the other side with a waiter. She opened the door.

  “Please tell me you have food on there.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Cooper sent it.”

  Bless him. Next time she saw him, she’d suck his face off. Totally.

  The waiter pushed the cart into the room and the aroma of fresh cooked meat—please let it be a steak—drifted toward her.

  The waiter left and with Trent once again outside the door, Kate lifted the lid off the room service tray to find a giant bone-in ribeye that could feed ten.

  God, the man. After his last attempt with the caviar, he’d nailed this one.

  She picked up her phone and dialed him.

  Two rings in, he picked up. “Well, hello.”

  “Hello to you. I just got your delivery. The minute you step into my room I will suck your face off.”

  “You’ll…wow.”

  “Oh, it’ll definitely be a wow. This steak looks amazing. It’s also giant.”

  “Twenty-two ounces. It’s the only ribeye on the menu.”

  “Will you join me?”

  A brief hesitation ensued. He was busy. Of course he was. “It’s okay, Ross. I know your schedule is crazy.”

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “Liar.”

  He laughed. “Okay. Yeah. I’m swamped, but I don’t care. Are you sure you’re up for a visit? Say yes and I’ll be there in five minutes. Three if I get the express elevator. Even I’m not crazy enough to take the stairs fifteen flights.”

  “I am most definitely up for a visit. Just don’t be offended if I pass out on you.”

  “I won’t. I need to catch up with some of our whales later anyway, so I’ll tuck you into bed early. How’s that?”

  Perfect. That’s how it was.

  Kate set the cover back on the steak and went to the bathroom to do something with the insane bedhead. The man liked red hair, she just wasn’t sure if he’d be ready for the explosion she currently sported.

  As promised, three minutes later he knocked. She gave her hair one last cruise with the brush, pinched her cheeks in the hope of adding at least some color to her ashen skin.

  Eh. Not so much.

  She’d live with it.

  Ross knocked again, forcing her to abandon her attempts at vanity. All a girl could do was try.

  She opened the suite door to Ross chatting with Trent.

  He turned to her, his eyes narrowing for a split-second. “Your color is coming back.”

  “Liar.”

  “No. Really. If you think this is bad you should have seen it earlier.”

  At that, she snorted.

  “Poetry,” he said. “I know.”

  She waved him in and he turned back to Trent. “I’m gonna be here for an hour or so. Take a dinner break and check in with Don. See if we can get someone else up here to relieve you.”

  “Will do, Mr. Cooper.”

  Kate shut the door behind him, gestured to the service cart. “That might be the best looking steak I’ve ever seen. For a girl who grew up on a ranch, that’s major.”

  “I got it right this time?”

  “Oh,” she said, “you definitely got it right.”

  After their meal, one unfortunately her rebelling stomach wouldn’t let her finish, Kate wandered back to the sofa and rested her head back. “Thank you for dinner. Your chef is amazing.”

  “For what we pay him, he’d better be. And thank you for sharing. I didn’t expect—”

  “I wanted to.”

  Really, what she’d wanted was to see him, to have him in her space after a terrifying day.

  He eased next to her on the sofa, wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Not too bad. The painkillers help. My ribs aren’t awful either, but I’ll be sore tomorrow.”

  He ran his free hand over her midsection, being careful not to press too hard. “Damn, Kate. I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault. Someone’s
upset with me.”

  “Which happened right after you got here.”

  “Don’t try to talk me into going home. I have a job to do and I’m doing it. Especially now.”

  “Even if it gets you hurt. Or worse?”

  “Yes. Ross, this is what the FBI trained me for. I can handle it. Whatever it is. Whoever it is.” She reached up, rested her hand against his cheek. “I can do this.”

  She kissed him. Slowly at first and then she shifted closer, arching into him, her body curving into his and that little burst was back, the one inside her from that first time he kissed her.

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulled her in even tighter before breaking the kiss, his eyes hot on hers. “You did promise you’d suck my face off.”

  “I always keep my promises.”

  * * *

  Whatever was happening here—and Ross was pretty sure he knew what it was—he liked it.

  And definitely wanted more.

  Except, hell, she’d been through a shit day and her body was banged up.

  If he were a decent guy he’d scoop her up, put her in that bed and leave.

  Tomorrow, when her brain wasn’t fogged from drugs and she’d had a solid twenty-four hours of rest, they’d revisit this sexual torture that was slowly killing him and he’d make her battered body hum.

  He brought his hands up to her cheeks and brushed his thumb along the sides. “I want this.”

  “Me too.”

  “Good.”

  She made a move toward his mouth again. The woman knew what she wanted, and if she didn’t cut that out they’d have big problems. He was a good guy, but he was still a man—a horny one—who found it hard to resist sex. And when it came to Kate, his resistance level was already limited.

  But her green eyes? Total killer. “We should wait,” he said. “Right? Until tomorrow at least. See how you feel. Maybe let the drugs wear off.”

  She stared up at him, those killer eyes a little hazy. “You’re worried about the drugs.”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’ve been through a tough day. Let’s just make sure you’re—” he waved one hand, “—you know…”