She spotted Sergio Fuentes first. His devilishly dark good looks made her think of steamy jungles. If, as was suspected, he was here to buy into the illegal activities, then he would be making contact with Bainbridge—if she was the one heading this operation.
That was the thing. In Vegas the motto was “pretty much anything goes” when it came to gambling—as long as it was on the up-and-up and was played by the rules. But the intelligence they had gathered indicated that this was a different kind of gambling. The behind-the-scenes kind that filled the pockets of organized crime, from gun runners to drug distributors.
If Clarissa could find solid evidence that Bainbridge was up to something, LVMPD would clean house with the casino owner’s blessing. Any money that was going to other interests was not finding its way to the owner’s bank account. Then, of course, there were the city’s and state’s interests that would be overlooked, as well.
Fuentes had taken a seat at the bar, ordered a drink and lit his cigar. Clarissa wandered in that direction, thankful that Jennings was chatting with another man at the other end.
Clarissa leaned against the bar next to where Fuentes had perched on a stool. “White wine,” she told the bartender.
In the mirror behind the bar she watched Fuentes watching her while she waited for the wine. He had the typical South American male reputation for womanizing.
“Surely the lady is not drinking alone,” he said when he’d looked his fill.
The bartender sat the stemmed glass in front of her and she took a refreshing sip before answering the question or even meeting Fuentes’s gaze.
Clarissa scooted onto the stool next to him. “I’m not now.” She peered up at him from beneath her lashes as she took another tiny sip.
He smiled, showed off a mouthful of movie-star quality teeth. “I have not seen you here before, señora.”
She thrust out her hand. “I’m Cris Jennings.”
Fuentes took her hand but instead of shaking it, he brushed his lips across the back of it. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Cris Jennings.”
She had to give the man credit. The way he said her name was very sexy. But she could have done without his smearing his DNA on her skin.
“And you are?” she inquired as she pulled her hand away.
“Sergio Fuentes.” He took a long drag from his cigar before allowing his gaze to blatantly rove her body. “So, you like?” He gestured to the room at large as he exhaled a blue plume of smoke.
Clarissa glanced around the room with utter indifference. “It’s actually rather boring.” She sipped her wine, then licked the rim of the glass to catch a drop before it slid downward. “I only came because my husband made me.” She sent a pointed look at Luke Jennings. “And then he ignores me.”
Fuentes studied Jennings a moment. “That is a shame, señora. Your husband is not so smart.”
She slid off the stool. “Well, Mr. Fuentes, it was very nice to meet you.” She sent him another smile as she walked away. She felt his eyes on her all the way across the room. At least she’d gotten his attention.
Rita Russo entered the room, an escort on either side of her, and jewels dripping from every possible surface. Clarissa’s attention shifted to her. If Weldon showed up, all suspects would be accounted for and all she would have to do was get as close as possible to each one.
“Hey.”
Startled, Clarissa looked up to find her pretend husband loitering next to her. She pushed a smile into place. “Hey, yourself.”
“You like the feel of power up here?” he asked, his curiosity settling on the latest arrival. “Lots of money to throw around.”
“You’re not a gambling man, Mr. Jennings?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’d rather donate it to a good cause than do this.”
Was he trying to impress her? She had to admit that would certainly do the trick but she would have to see the proof to believe it. Growing up around people exactly like him, with great financial means and extensive power, had made her a little skeptical. She and her father still didn’t see eye to eye on the fairness of extreme wealth. That she donated large portions of her annual trust installment remained a sore spot between them.
Mark Weldon entered the room then, and Clarissa’s full attention returned to her assignment. She left Jennings with his Scotch and her assurance that she would talk to him later as she moved into action. Working the room had to be the only item on her agenda just now. Clarissa hadn’t done this in a long time, but she had learned how to make a crowd her own from the best privileged socialites on the manhunt circuit.
She just hadn’t turned it on in a few years.
LUKE HAD TO SAY, in all his years of doing big social to-dos and fund-raisers, he’d never watched anyone better at wooing a crowd. His pretend wife owned the room. The woman should be doing this for a living. He would never have expected someone in the housekeeping side of the gambling business to be able to handle a situation like this quite so well.
It was only midnight and already everyone knew her name and wanted her at their table. Luke hung at the bar and just enjoyed the show. Strangely enough, it didn’t bother him at all that the lady preferred rubbing shoulders with the high rollers to spending time with him. He found it oddly refreshing.
This was what the lady had asked for in return for playing the part of his wife for the weekend. The least he could do was stay out of her way.
But there was this one guy. One of those Antonio Banderas look-alikes. Now that dude bugged him. He seemed to appear at Cris’s side out of nowhere. Whispering in her ear. Smiling. Offering her a fresh drink.
Luke didn’t like the guy at all.
In fact, he was sick of him.
Before good sense could kick in, Luke strode across the room to join the woman who was supposed to be his new bride. He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, then leaned down and whispered, “Baby, don’t you think it’s time we called it a night? After all it is our honeymoon.” He put his lips right against her ear to say the rest. “We don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”
She shivered. Whether the sensation had been a pleasant experience or motivated by irritation at his forwardness he couldn’t say, particularly since she avoided looking at him.
“But I was just beginning to have fun, honey-pie,” she murmured back. The look in her eyes as she met his was unmistakable. Back off.
A deal was a deal. He took a step away. Tried not to show his impatience and irrational annoyance. They weren’t actually married. They didn’t even know each other. She could talk to anyone she pleased. There was no need for her to be in a hurry to go anywhere with him.
Fuentes appeared again, setting Luke’s teeth on edge.
He passed a card to Cris. “Join me tomorrow night at Club Red on the twenty-sixth floor. I would very much like the pleasure of showing you that world.” He glanced at Luke. “Bring your husband if you wish.” Fuentes swaggered away with all the confidence of a man who had just trumped all the offers in the room.
Unreasonably, outrage roared through Luke.
“We can go now,” his make-believe wife said.
His gaze collided with hers. “We can go?” he parroted like a total idiot.
She nodded, tucked the card Fuentes had given her into her sequined clutch purse. “Yes. I’m finished for tonight.”
And just like that the lady took Luke by the arm and led him from the room.
He wasn’t sure how it had happened. But somehow, she was in charge. Maybe she had been all along.
He’d thought he was…but he’d been wrong.
CHAPTER FOUR
Friday, 1:00 p.m.
CLARISSA WORKED HARD at not dozing off as the luncheon speaker droned on about the high-quality helmets and other safety equipment his company manufactured.
Luke Jennings had been named top athlete for the third year running by the company. She’d heard the Ace this and the Ace that at every turn. Funny thing was, Lu
ke seemed to flinch every time that name was tossed out.
She remembered to applaud at all the right times but otherwise her mind was zoned out. She needed sleep. Last night had been a late one. Luke had knocked on the connecting door between their suites and proceeded to talk her ear off for the next two hours. She couldn’t decide if he was just lonely or if he was curious. Not that he asked her many questions, but the few he did had been loaded with interest.
Maybe the guy was simply unaccustomed to carrying on a conversation with a woman who wasn’t poised to jump his bones, and he enjoyed the novelty. Not that she would mind jumping his bones, but this was work. She could not let any aspect of this little you-scratch-my-back-I’ll-scratch-yours endeavor get personal.
And he had to stop buying her gifts. She had been awakened this morning by yet another delivery. More expensive clothing, two formal gowns, three cocktail dresses. All with matching accessories. He’d insisted that it was nothing more than what she would need to get through the weekend.
Oh, and she mustn’t forget the flowers. The room was brimming with roses in every imaginable color.
Pictures of the two of them had made a few of the gossip rags. So far no connection between her and her past had been mentioned. But it was only a matter of time. Hopefully this weekend would be over before that happened.
Her caution radar went on alert as he leaned nearer to whisper something in her ear. She wished he wouldn’t do that. No matter how hard she tried she always ended up shivering like a damned hormone-driven teenager whenever he got that close. How the hell could this be happening to her? She never got all giddy and gooey over some guy. And that was exactly how she felt.
How was she supposed to win this bet if she kept going stupid?
“I am so bored,” he murmured.
She had to smile. For a guy who had gotten rich on endorsements he didn’t appear to have a lot of patience where these functions were concerned.
Turning her face to his ear, she whispered, “One more hour and you’ll be free.” He smiled, causing her lips to brush his jaw.
There was no way to miss the tiny hitch in his respiration.
Was it possible that she could do to him what he so easily did to her? She avoided thinking the specifics since each and every one was so, so off-limits. Why couldn’t she have had a reaction like this any other time? To someone who wasn’t such a dangerous combination? Celebrity and professional athlete were two major no-no’s in her book. A formula for trouble.
His lips teased her ear again. “We should think of something fun to do.”
Several explicit possibilities came instantly to mind.
Going down this road is a big mistake, Clarissa.
But, hey, she was only human and this guy was hot.
The crowd burst into an enthusiastic standing ovation at whatever the speaker said last. She and Luke managed to get to their feet and do the same despite the glaring distraction that had clearly affected them both.
For the next half hour Luke was inundated with handshakes and praise. Everyone appeared to love him, but she wondered how much of that was hype—the expected responses. It would be difficult to balance friends in his world. She remembered those trials all too well. Who did you trust? Who did you allow into the inner sanctum of your private world? Did he or she like you for you or for your money?
Questions she was ever so thankful she didn’t have to worry about answering anymore.
That was the thing. Being with a guy like Luke for real came with far too many complications. With a few inches’ distance between them now, her good sense kicked back into gear. She couldn’t do that.
No way. No how.
LUKE PULLED HIS TIE LOOSE as he lowered into a chair in his suite. Finally. He massaged his throbbing knee and grimaced. A pain pill would help about now but he just couldn’t go there unless it was an absolute last resort. He needed to stay fully in control of all his faculties this weekend.
On the bedside table the telephone’s flashing red light indicated that he had received a voice mail. Odd. His manager surely would have called his cell phone. Could be someone on the sponsor’s team, he supposed.
With a grunt he levered himself to his feet and limped to the bedside table. If the call was from another cheerleader who wanted him to join their squad for dinner he was going to scream. As much as he loved short skirts and toned thighs…he was just tired.
He punched the necessary buttons to retrieve the call.
Cris, this is Sergio. I was hoping we could have a drink this afternoon. My room is 2514. I will be expecting your call.
Sergio?
The ambitious Latin guy from last night.
More of that uncalled-for irritation filtered through Luke. It wasn’t like he had any claim on Cris but for all Sergio knew she was Luke’s wife. What kind of man went around hitting on another man’s wife?
Luke dropped the receiver back into its cradle and glanced at the connecting door. He should tell her. The message was for her, after all. Maybe this Sergio had something to offer. It wouldn’t be fair for him to deny her the opportunity to snag a rich guy. Who knew? Maybe that was why she had taken a job as a hotel maid in a casino in the first place.
Luke exhaled a disgusted breath and strode to the connecting door. He winced with every step. Damn it.
He rapped on the door and waited.
When it opened he was surprised to find her dressed in sleek black slacks and a white peasant-style blouse, looking as if he’d just caught her on her way out.
“Yes?” She slipped the final button of her blouse into its closure.
He hitched his thumb toward the phone. “You had a message from Sergio.” Keeping the disapproval out of his tone was impossible. “He wants to have a drink with you this afternoon. Room 2514.”
Cris searched his face. “Do we have plans that would prevent me from going?”
Luke moved his head side to side, that damned irritation making a muscle flex in his jaw.
“Then having a drink with him won’t be a problem?”
“No problem.”
He started to turn away but she stopped him. “You have a personal problem with this?”
Luke met the question in her eyes. “I don’t like the man. He’s…” He shrugged. “Sleazy or something.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re right. He is. And I want you to know that this isn’t about sex or his money. There’s something I have to know about him. That’s all I can tell you.”
Now his curiosity was really aroused. “You know him from somewhere?”
She glanced at her watch. “Gotta go.” She searched his face one last time. “I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Right now I have to do this. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Whatever.”
He watched until she had walked out of her suite before closing the connecting door. There wasn’t another personal appearance until seven. Resting his knee was necessary. When Cris got back they could talk some more. As long as she fulfilled her end of their bargain there wasn’t a lot he could say.
Worrying about a grown woman who appeared perfectly capable of taking care of herself was the last thing he should be doing.
But he couldn’t help the instinct.
He had a bad feeling about this Sergio character. Maybe he should call his friend Shannon to see what she knew about him. It was Shannon’s job to know all there was to know about the high rollers who stayed at her hotel, so Shannon would know if Cris was getting in over her head as Luke suspected.
One quick call would do the job.
CLARISSA TOOK A DEEP BREATH and rapped on the door of room 2514. Her .22 was in an ankle holster, her badge safely hidden in her suite. Even if Fuentes spotted the weapon, it wasn’t so unusual for women to carry weapons in this day and age.
The door opened and she fell instantly into character. “Sergio, I was so thrilled to hear from you.” She reached up and pressed her cheek to his in a quick, casual greeting.
<
br /> “Come in, señora.” He stepped back, gestured broadly with his arm. “Mi casa es su casa.”
She was in!
“Thank you.” She breezed into the room and took a moment to openly admire the opulence. The higher the floor the more lavish the room. “Wow, this is fantastic.” The view out to the Strip was the best she had seen. The room was filled with marble, gold and lots of mirrors. Loads of lush, purple velvet, the sign of royalty.
What these casinos would do to keep their clients happy and feeling generous.
“This is my favorite part.” He indicated the massive Jacuzzi tub situated for taking advantage of the spectacular view beyond the balcony. The water was swirling even now as if he was expecting his guest to join him for a relaxing soak.
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