Bet Me

by Catherine Mann

  In his dreams.

  She tossed her purse onto the nearest chair. “You mentioned a drink,” she reminded him. Getting his mind off the tub and getting naked was her first order of business.

  “What is your pleasure, señora?” He sauntered toward the massive mahogany bar. His feet were bare. His black trousers most certainly the finest silk. The gray shirt was unbuttoned, the tails hanging free of his trousers in an unspoken invitation.

  “White wine.” No hard liquor for her; she was on duty.

  He smiled and turned around to access the mini wine cellar complete with ornate brass door stationed behind the bar. “You are welcome to peruse the labels. If you do not find one that appeals to you, I will have your request delivered immediately.”

  No doubt.

  “You pick one,” Clarissa urged. She wasn’t that picky. Chardonnay, Zinfandel, whatever. “Do you come here often?” She leaned against the bar and watched his fluid, confident moves.

  “Every three months.” He selected a bottle, uncorked it and poured a glass. “And you?”

  “This is my first time here at the Free Throw.” Which was true, in so far as being a guest. She accepted the stemmed glass of wine. “Thank you.”

  Fuentes dropped ice into a tumbler and poured himself a bourbon on the rocks. “Ah, so you are a virgin then?”

  She laughed softly. “I guess you could say that.”

  He came around the bar and ushered her to the overstuffed white chairs near the Jacuzzi. “Then I will do my best to see that you are fully satisfied tonight.”

  She would bet given the chance, he would do exactly that. She sipped her wine and relaxed a little more. “Tell me how it works. This Club Red is something special?”

  He inclined his head. “Very special. Private. The club is quite different from the other gambling rooms.”

  “What do you mean different?”

  “There are other wagers to be made. Not so much your typical gambling. You will see.”

  A cell phone chirped. Fuentes removed the phone from his trouser pocket and checked the display. “Pardon,” he said in that earthy Spanish accent. “I must take this call. Enjoy your wine and have another if you wish.”

  He rose from his chair and walked out onto the balcony.

  Clarissa sat still exactly three seconds, then she was up and across the room at the bar. She took her time adding more wine to her glass. Not that she had emptied it; she hadn’t. But the act gave her reason to leave her seat and survey the room from a better vantage point.

  A desk with laptop computer sat only a few feet from the bar. A sofa and the two chairs they had abandoned, along with the hot tub, took up the better part of the room. A huge plasma television hung on the wall above a credenza where papers and a briefcase were placed.

  Papers and briefcase first, she decided.

  Leaving the bottle of wine on the sleek marble counter, she moved swiftly to the credenza, snagging the television remote en route. As she flipped through the television channels she studied the papers on the table as well as those still lying in his open briefcase.

  Lists of numbers. Three columns on each page.

  She glanced toward the balcony. Fuentes was still tied up with his call.

  Only one option. She sat her glass on the table, visually selected a number and entered the digits into her cell phone as if she were making a call. Then she grabbed her glass, turned away from the television and walked across the room. She closed her phone before a call could attempt to go through.

  “I am very sorry for the interruption,” Fuentes announced as he entered the room once more.

  She tucked her phone back into her pocket. “No problem. I tried to call Luke but, apparently, he’s left the room.”

  Fuentes glanced at the television, probably noting the change in channel. “This husband of yours, is he always so inattentive to your needs?”

  Clarissa resumed her seat. The more relaxed this man was in her presence, the more likely she was to have access to his room.

  Having a look at his laptop and cell phone would be even better. Technically, any evidence she acquired while in his room was inadmissible. However, since he had invited her into his domain, she could request a warrant based on anything she noticed lying in the open.

  “Luke is very busy with his work,” she said in defense of her make-believe husband. Fuentes would expect her to defend him to some degree. “I don’t always fit into the agenda.”

  Fuentes assessed her a long moment, from the tips of her bloodred toenails to the top of her mass of unruly auburn curls. “This husband is quite the fool.”

  Leisurely, she took another sip of her wine. “Do you have any advice on how I should make him pay more attention?” She was pretty sure her host had lots of advice and no small amount of hands-on training he would happily provide.

  “I propose that we teach him a lesson.” He downed the last of his bourbon. “In my experience a man is more inclined to respect what he is at most risk of losing.”

  Made sense. In a warped, male-chauvinist way.

  “I take it you have a plan?” She moistened her lips. His gaze followed the move.

  “Tonight, at the club, we shall show him the way a man properly appreciates his woman.”

  She sat her glass on the table next to her chair and stood. “Thank you, Sergio. I look forward to tonight.”

  He rose in that fluid movement that promised power and seduction. “As do I.”

  Fuentes saw her to the door. As difficult as it proved, Clarissa walked all the way to the stairwell rather than the elevator and descended three levels before stopping. It took every ounce of discipline she possessed to walk, not run.

  When she had found a quiet corner, she dug a pen from her purse, then pressed the button that would redial the last number she had entered on her cell phone. She quickly jotted the number on her palm, then hit the end call button. Hitting the proper speed-dial number, she got straight through to Captain Pearson. He wanted kept in the loop of the highest-priority assignments.

  “I’ve made contact with number one.” Fuentes was at the very top of their suspect list.

  “Excellent,” Pearson returned, some amount of relief in his tone.

  “I have a number from several pages of numerical lists I discovered in his room,” Clarissa explained. “Can you run it for me to see if it’s anything relevant? Bank account number? Whatever?”

  “Sure.”

  Clarissa could hear him shuffling the papers on his desk. “Give it to me.”

  She called off the digits, then listened to him repeat them.

  “I’ll let you know when I have something for you,” her captain promised.

  “Thanks.” Clarissa closed her phone and slid it back into her pocket.

  She still had plenty of time before her next engagement with Luke, but there wasn’t a lot she could do relative to her own work other than wait for tonight’s grand entrance into Club Red.

  Making sure Luke was ready to play the part of in attentive husband was probably something she should see to right away. He was being a little overprotective and that could become a problem.

  She took the final couple of flights down to the twenty-first floor. After sliding her key card, she pushed into the room.

  She was startled to find Luke waiting for her.

  In her room, not his.

  “We need to talk, Cris,” he said.

  Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

  She dropped her purse on the desk. “What’s up?”

  “I talked to Shannon about this Sergio guy and she says you should stay away from him.”

  Damn.

  He could very well have blown her cover.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AS EASY AS IT WOULD BE to clear this whole thing up with a simple flash of her badge, Clarissa couldn’t do that. She had known from the moment Luke said he was friends with Shannon Bainbridge that telling him her real agenda would be taking a major risk. It was dicey
enough that attention had been called to her position at the hotel when he’d decided to propose pretend marriage. But the opportunity had far outweighed the risk.

  “I can take care of myself, Luke.” She had opted to go the I-am-woman-hear-me-roar route and then cap it off with a guilt trip. “You shouldn’t have said anything to Shannon. She could get me in trouble with my boss. You know the rules about fraternization.”

  The guilt worked. For about ten seconds he seemed truly at a loss for words.

  “I’m certain she wouldn’t do that behind my back.” He plowed his fingers through his hair, giving it that Ty Pennington look. “We’ve been friends for a really long time.”

  “So what did she say about Sergio?” Might as well get the dirt while she was at it.

  “He has an unsavory reputation with the ladies. She suggested that you avoid him as much as possible.”

  Clarissa didn’t like that new attention had been called to her once more but it was done. If Bainbridge was suspicious of her, Clarissa would pick up on it tonight at Club Red. The lady in charge would definitely be there.

  “Don’t worry.” Clarissa patted Luke on the arm. “I’ll be careful.”

  Right now she wanted to float around the twenty-fifth-floor lounges and see if she could get lucky and run into Russo or Weldon. She’d gotten a glimpse of Russo last night. Intelligence indicated that where one appeared, the other two usually showed up. So far, two had arrived. Weldon should be appearing anytime.

  But first she needed a snack to counteract the alcohol. She’d eaten light at lunch. No need to take any chances with her sobriety. Her interest lighting on the fruit bowl, she headed for the bar in her room.

  “Cris.”

  She turned back just in time to see Luke wince with the step he took in her direction.

  “Is your knee giving you trouble?” She bit into an apple.

  He waved off the question. “I’ll live.”

  Another step, another tightening of his lips.

  Nice lips, she realized. Really nice.

  He leaned against the counter and watched her take another bite. By the time she took the third chunk out of her apple she had decided he either liked watching her eat or dreaded broaching whatever was on his mind.

  “What’s your interest in Sergio?” he asked finally.

  Since telling him the truth wasn’t an option, she went with the story she’d already decided on. “I’m curious about what people with that kind of money do in a place like Club Red.”

  “Just be careful,” he urged. “I know this must all seem very exciting to you—” he grabbed a banana “—but it’s like any other lifestyle. It has its up and its downs. Don’t let all the glitz in a place like this fool you.” He peeled back the yellow skin and took a bite.

  She wondered what had given the Ace such a careworn attitude about the rich and famous. Maybe he’d endured his own brand of painful reality as a celebrity. Well, she had already witnessed one drawback for him—the ladies. Though, admittedly, most men didn’t seem to consider that a problem.

  Somehow, Clarissa got the feeling that the Ace here had a major problem with this skin-deep kind of attention. The idea made her curious but she didn’t have time for indulging herself.

  “That’s cute,” she said before she could recall the words.

  He frowned. “What’s cute?”

  Well, she’d done it now. “The whole protector thing. I can’t remember the last time a guy bothered.” Not exactly a flattering admission, but there it was.

  Luke reached up, touched a long, loopy curl that had fallen loose from the clasp holding the wild mane from her face. “You have the most gorgeous hair. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like fire, but soft and…I don’t know…alluring.”

  Heat sped through her veins as her gaze connected with those deep brown eyes of his. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Jennings?”

  The hint of a smile quirked his lips. “I guess I am.” He slid his fingertips down the length of that strand before straightening away from the counter. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

  “Yeah…seven.”

  Clarissa admired his fine backside again as he made his way back to his own side of the connecting door and her heart did one of those silly little somersaults.

  Being attracted to him was such a waste of energy at the moment. This was not the time for such foolish fantasies.

  She had to remember that Luke Jennings had several strikes against him. He was a professional athlete. A celebrity. Not exactly good boyfriend material…much less husband stock.

  Good thing they were only pretending to be married.

  Inspiration struck.

  Maybe they could have pretend sex.

  Oh, she was bad.

  10:00 p.m.

  LUKE DIDN’T LIKE THIS AT ALL.

  Club Red was dark and exclusive. A pair of intense poker games were underway, but a lot of the action was taking place in small private rooms, each guarded by a big, burly member of security. Shannon drifted around the room ensuring the guests had everything they needed.

  Luke was concerned that Cris was right about his mentioning the business with Fuentes being a mistake. Shannon had been watching Cris’s every move since their arrival an hour ago. If his big mouth got her into trouble, he would really feel like a jerk.

  Cris looked amazing in the jade dress. Tiny spaghetti straps. Sleek satin. Gorgeous. The instant the personal shopper had shown it to him he had known the dress was perfect for her.

  Every male in the room had stared at her when she entered the posh club on his arm. Something like pride had welled inside him. He’d been feeling a few other swelling sensations, as well.

  She had given him orders to back off on the whole worrying-about-her thing.

  Where the hell was she going now?

  The corridor that led to the restrooms. He probably would have figured she was heading to the ladies’ room if he hadn’t seen Fuentes go in that direction just a minute or so before.

  If she wasn’t back in five minutes Luke was going in.

  For her own good.

  FUENTES HAD FOLLOWED Russo into the ladies’ room.

  Clarissa hesitated at the door. She could walk in and no one would think a thing about it…couldn’t she?

  Damn straight.

  She removed her shoes and, holding her breath, she pushed the door inward and held on to it to force it to close quietly.

  Listening intently, she located her two suspects. They had gone beyond the small lobby area and into one of the stalls. Moving soundlessly on bare feet, she made her way in that direction. Elegant stalls, built like small closets with full-length doors, lined one wall while marble counters lined the other. Fresh rose petals decorated the counters around each sink. Gilded mirrors and ornate soap dispensers completed the luxurious decorating.

  Careful to keep her movements silent, Clarissa slipped into the stall next to the one where things were heating up between Russo and Fuentes. The sounds of their frantic sex allowed Clarissa to gently close the door of her stall.

  Simultaneous climaxes were punctuated by grunts and moans. She hoped coming in here wasn’t going to accomplish anything more than a few seconds of voyeurism.

  “You placed the order?” Russo wanted to know.

  The whir of a zipper followed by, “Of course.”

  “Three days, Sergio. If there are any mistakes this time, we’ll be looking for another partner.”

  Clarissa’s heart burst into a frantic race. Gotcha! These two were definitely working together. Now if she could only connect Weldon and find out exactly what the goods being handled were.

  “I have the list and the order is taken care of,” he murmured severely. “The first shipment will arrive in three days. You need not worry, woman.”

  “Shannon told me you had a new friend.”

  “What of it?”

  “Inviting her here is very risky. I would hate to see your libido get you killed, Sergio. I’m su
re you recall what happened with the last one.”

  Clarissa’s pulse thumped. Her interaction with Fuentes had been noticed. And Shannon had definitely had something to do with outing her.