“Awesome.” Shelby’s blue eyes twinkled. “Which means you’ll have more free time, right? You put in way too many hours, Owen. Not that I haven’t appreciated all your help and support during the transition, but it’s not healthy. You should take a vacation once all of this is running smoothly again.”
Vacation? It’s been so long I’ve forgotten the meaning of the word. First the Marines, then this place, then…
He shook his head and crossed his legs. “Nah. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
“Well, maybe if you had a companion. You know, someone or something to keep you busy, like a pet or—”
“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t give up so easy.” He glanced over at Peaches, who woofed low and watched him with full puppy glee. “Listen, girl. I’m sorry, but I just can’t take you home with me.”
As if in response, the dog lay down and covered her face with her front paws.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Shelby came around the desk to crouch beside Peaches, cooing and rubbing the top of her head. “Her feelings are hurt. You two are clearly meant for each other, Owen.”
Cursing under his breath, he sat forward and scratched the dog behind her floppy ears again. “I’m sorry, girl. Really I am.” Shelby gave him a perturbed look and Owen relented. “Okay, fine. You can come home with me for a few days, just to see how it might work out, but no promises, all right?”
As if in answer, Peaches rolled over on top of Owen’s feet, exposing her belly for a rub.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughed. Of course the new, first woman in his life in years wasn’t shy about demanding attention. That seemed to be his type anyway, at least it had been with Janine. She’d been all over him like crust on toast. Until he’d refused to give her what she wanted. Then…
Sighing he sat back while Peaches wiggled her back atop his shoes, all lolling tongue and playful pup. This hadn’t been his wisest choice. Him and females of any sort or species weren’t a good idea. He should’ve learned his lesson by now. He was better off alone, better focusing on work and not getting involved.
Shelby rocked back on her heels and grinned from ear to ear, clapping. “Fantastic! I brought the paperwork with me, just in case.” She straightened and grabbed a clipboard from her desk. “Fill these out and Peaches is all yours for the next forty-eight hours. I promise, you won’t be sorry.”
Owen exhaled and stared at the forms, Shelby’s words echoing alongside the memories in his head.
You won’t be sorry…
Unfortunately, he already was.
In ways that would take far too long to explain.
Two
Owen made his way back to his office at the Lucky Ace, looking forward to a couple of hours alone to collect his thoughts and finish some paperwork. Shelby said she’d drop Peaches off on her way out later, once she’d finalized all the paperwork. His plans were shattered, however, when he found his path blocked by a six-foot-plus headache and his new green companion.
“Hey, cuz.” Blake Rockford leaned one shoulder against the wall while his pet iguana, Henry, perched on the other. His body language appeared relaxed, but his expression looked irritated. “I wondered where you were.”
“Sorry.” Owen gave him an annoyed stare and swiped his security card through the lock on the door. Blake owned Rockford Security, the firm that oversaw the security at the Lucky Ace. Technically Blake was his boss, but that still didn't mean that he should just show up and expect Owen to drop everything to accommodate him. He knew Blake didn’t have an appointment. With his crazy schedule, Owen lived and died by his calendar these days and he would’ve remembered. He stepped inside then gestured for his cousin to follow, the eco-friendly lighting system clicking on automatically as it sensed their body heat. “I had a meeting. Been waiting long?”
“Long enough.”
Blake strode over and took a seat in front of Owen’s desk like he owned the place. Owen lingered near the door and shook his head. Family. Jeez. He smoothed a hand down the lapel of his suit and forced a smile. “So what can I do for you?”
“I reviewed some recent Lucky Ace security footage and may have found something.”
“I see.” Owen took his seat behind the desk, doing his best to keep the exasperation from his tone. Sure, Blake was his boss, the head honcho of Rockford Security, but all Owen wanted right now was peace and quiet, not Blake nosing into his job. “Don’t you have a whole team of people to do that for you?”
“I still like to keep an eye on things myself. Two sets of eyes are better than one.” Blake cooed to the lizard, who’d now climbed down onto the new leather upholstered arm of the chair then cocked his head toward the small viewing room attached to Owen’s office. If that thing’s claws ripped his new furniture to shreds, Shelby would have his hide. Blake seemed completely oblivious. “If you have a minute, I’ll show you.”
Owen sighed. “Make it quick. A minute’s about all I can spare. I’ve got a backlog of reports due tomorrow on the system upgrades. You could have called me and I'd have more time for you later in the week.”
“Later in the week might be too late.”
Blake stood and adjusted his already pristine suit. The guy towered two inches taller than Owen’s six-foot-two and never seemed to have a single black hair out of place. Not to mention that icy blue stare of his. The Hurt, as it had been nicknamed by some long-ago family member. That glare was so mighty they should bottle that shit and sell it as terrorist repellent. Back in the day, he and Blake had made good use of The Hurt when scaring off potential suitors from the hot gals they wanted to date themselves. The days before tragedy had struck and Owen had shipped off to fight his country’s battles overseas.
The days when they’d both been different men.
Now they were harder, wiser, lonelier…
“Bring Henry along, will you?” Blake said as Owen rounded the desk.
“Fine.” He stopped beside the chair and let the iguana climb up his arm to his shoulder, praying to God he didn’t relieve himself while up there, then joined Blake in the cramped viewing room where his cousin was busy loading up a section of video from a few days prior.
Onscreen, a beautiful woman with a headful of deep red curls sat at one of the casino’s blackjack tables. Her perfect posture and quirky half-grin set her apart from the other players in an instant. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from staring at the graceful way she picked up her cards or swiped a stray lock from her forehead, couldn’t stop himself from wondering what color eyes went with such striking hair and pretty features.
Wait. What?
Nope. He gave himself a mental shake. Beautiful women had become the bane of his existence. Most definitely not going down that road again. He shuffled his feet and frowned, leaning in closer over Blake’s shoulder. “What exactly should I be looking at here?”
“You have a cheater at the Lucky Ace.”
Nose scrunched, he squinted at the woman once more. “And you think it’s her?”
“Not sure, but something was certainly going on at that table that night. Shelby asked me to go over the intake records. This gal won a lot at Blackjack that evening.”
“So?” Owen straightened, not liking the fact a cheater might have taken the house right under his nose. He was one of the best casino security bosses in Vegas. And Blake should damned well know. Hell, he’d taught Owen the ropes. “Maybe it’s just a winning streak. Or beginner’s luck.”
Blake gave him a deadpan stare. “This wasn’t a simple winning streak. And that woman is no beginner. Prior to this point, she beat the dealer three hands straight. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
Henry dug his little claws into Owen’s shoulder as if in agreement.
Owen winced, craving his privacy more than ever. He’d re-watch the footage again after Blake left and decide for himself what was happening. “Maybe. Still, that doesn’t automatically mean she’s cheating. I’ll need to analyze everything before I mak
e any accusations. We could get in a lot of trouble if we’re wrong.”
Blake pushed to his feet and took Henry back. “Whatever you do, make it fast. If it’s not the woman, then you’ve probably got a dirty dealer or something else is going on. The blackjack tables are logging way too many losses. Either way, she won six more times that night before leaving.”
Well, fuck. The odds were always in the house’s favor and the only way to sway them that consistently was by nefarious means. He hated cheats and liars almost as much as he hated frauds. And when it happened on the floor of his own casino, he took it as a personal insult.
Owen stood before the monitors in the viewing room long after Blake had gone, staring at the beautiful woman as she laughed and joked with an obese man beside her, and his resolve hardened along with his heart. If this woman thought she was so smart, then it would be his greatest pleasure in the world to prove her wrong.
Nobody made a fool of Owen Rockford.
Not anymore.
* * *
Sweet Jesus on a pogo stick.
Owen leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Three days he’d been investigating the gal from the tapes and still nothing. No name, no address, and sure as hell no paper trail. She was smart. Too smart to be easily tracked through surveillance tapes. The mystery cheat seemed completely untraceable.
Worse yet, Blake hadn’t even scratched the surface of her takes. She’d won a total of eleven times that night in his casino, more than three thousand dollars. Far more than mere luck. But he had no way of knowing how many times she'd done that in the past. He'd only happened across her on a few of the tapes, so he'd only seen her win on a few occasions. Maybe those were the only time she'd won? He had no idea how many times she played at the casino or how many of those times she walked away with money. Given Blake's concern, there was a lot more than just her three thousand dollar win at stake. The only way to know for sure if she was up to something was to track every game she played and the only way to do that was to watch her on the tapes. To look through all of them trying to find her would take weeks, maybe months.
He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.
Just another gorgeous woman, out to take me for all I’m worth.
Frustrated in more ways than one, Owen exhaled and stared at the mound of files and ledger sheets in front of him. What he really needed was for her to return to the Lucky Ace, weird as that sounded. That way he could see her in person, watch her in action, catch her in the act.
She was smart. But he was smarter.
Restless, he left his office and headed out onto the casino floor. Whenever he felt antsy, taking a spin around the place always made him feel better, helped him work off some of his tense energy. Besides, there was a slim chance maybe his cheater would be there and, if so, he wanted to be ready.
He sidled through a throng of fresh tourists huddled around the penny slots then headed across the thick plush carpet toward the high-limit tables. Crowds weren’t usually his thing, always reminded him of the packed choppers back in Iraq when they headed out on missions, but tonight he had a mission of his own. And nothing got in the way of the job. Nothing.
A small group had formed around one of the blackjack tables near the far corner, mostly young men, all of them whistling and whooping when a player he couldn’t quite see yet apparently scored. Suspicion mingled with the adrenaline fizzing in his gut and he veered in their direction.
Someone was winning big. With any luck it would be her.
Owen stopped short after he cleared the jumble of people and his world teetered.
Yep. It was her.
And damn if she wasn’t even more captivating in person. All fiery curls and porcelain skin and her laugh—dry and husky and seductive as fuck. Not to mention that outfit. What would’ve been conservative on most women, looked like an invitation to sin on her—a sleek, black suit showing off the slight, yet well-rounded curves beneath.
She leaned forward to speak with the dealer, one of their long time employees named Faye, and crossed her legs, causing her skirt to rise higher up her slim thigh and show off an impressive array of creamy skin. As if sensing his stare, the woman turned and met his gaze and it slammed into him like a rifle butt to the stomach.
Green. Her eyes were green, pale as jade and twice as exquisite.
* * *
Alison turned back to the table and the cards in her hand.
Shit. Just shit.
He was seriously the best looking man she’d ever seen.
And he was off-limits. So completely off-limits she’d need an atlas just to find a way to him. Figures. She took a deep breath to calm the nervous tingle in her blood and focused on the game. Men were most definitely not part of her equation these days. She had far too many other problems clambering for her attention.
Like the player next to her and what cards he held. The guy had been flirting with her all night, giving her serious side-eye, accidentally brushing up against her when he’d reach for his drink. All the come-on signs she usually ignored. Hell, he’d even scooted closer to her while she’d been staring at the hunk in the distance.
She re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction, away from him, and glanced up at Faye. With the table full, there wasn’t time for their normal banter tonight. Still, her friend gave her a pointed look and tilted her head to the side.
“Rockford McHottie, two o’clock.”
“What?” Alison frowned.
“The cutie I’ve been telling you about,” Faye said under her breath. “Over there.”
Yeah, I see him.
She didn’t dare look again, for more reasons than she cared to admit. Instead, Alison feigned interest in her cards. “He’s all right.”
“All right?” Faye snorted. “Girl, you better take some of that cash you won and get some glasses. Trust me. To use your math-speak, you definitely want his hotness tangent to all your curves, sweetie.”
Alison chuckled while the guy beside her looked confused, then scared, then moved farther away. Good. Faye was one of the few people who got her particular brand of humor and even threw it back in her face on rare occasions. And tonight seemed rare indeed. Without looking, she still felt the weight of the stare heavy on her back. It was enough to give a girl hot flashes, or night sweats. Or both.
To distract herself from her overheated, totally inappropriate fantasies, Alison played along, keeping up the math banter. “So you’re saying he could plug his solution into your equation any day, huh?”
“Damn straight, girl.” Faye winked. “Not just mine though. I see him measuring your angle. He thinks you’re acute-y.”
“Ugh.” She couldn’t restrain her eye roll. “Bad. Really, really bad. Almost as bad as ‘He’s one well-defined function’.”
“Oh.” Faye shook her head and laughed. “Yeah. Awful. Okay, okay. You win. I’m done with the math jokes.”
Grinning, Alison couldn’t resist one more. “I don’t know if he’s in my range, but I’d like to bring him back to my domain.”
“Really?” Faye’s expression shifted from teasing to serious. “Honestly, though. If you really want to meet him, I’ll introduce you.”
“What? No.” Alison held up her free hand. “I was kidding. You know I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. Period.”
“I don’t know, Al. He’s a great guy. I’ve worked with him for years. Maybe it’s time you started putting yourself out there a little more.”
“I’m out far enough, okay?” She lowered her voice and glanced around at the other people at the table before looking back at Faye. “Drop it, all right?”
“Fine.” Faye called for bets before starting a new deal. “I’ll drop it.”
“What’s that supposed to—”
The guy who’d been ogling her all night walked away and a new body slid onto the stool beside her, all hard muscle and sexy-as-hell sinew. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She s
truggled to keep her breathing steady and even. Owen Rockford. Her naughty mind wondered if he tasted as delicious as he smelled—all spice and sweet and clean, warm male.
Not helping at all.
Stay calm. Stay. Calm.
He has no idea who I am, what I’ve been through…
Pulse pounding loud in her ears, Alison kept her attention zeroed on her new cards. Fingers shaking, she tapped the table to request a card from Faye, all of her crystal clear calculations gone straight out the window because of her new neighbor.
“Am I dealing you in, Mr. Rockford?” Faye asked, her tone pure professional politeness.
“No, Faye. I’m on the clock.” His deep voice sent an involuntary shiver down Alison’s spine. “What’s your name?”
Get control of this situation before it controls you.
She took a deep breath. “Can’t you come up with a better pick up line than that?”
Faye chuckled. “You should ask her sine.”
Alison gave her friend a scathing look.
Not funny. Not funny at all.
Unfazed, Faye grinned, turning her attention to the other players at the table.
“It wasn’t a line,” Owen said, picking up the thread of their conversation.
Unaccountably frazzled, Alison placed her cards down and scowled at him. “Let me save you some time, okay? I’m not interested.”
“Me either.” He folded his hands atop the black felt of the table. “But I still need to have your name, if you want to keep playing in my casino.”
“You want my name? Fine.” She reached into the pocket of her black jacket and pulled out the bogus player’s club card she stashed there for these types of emergencies, except it was gone.
Damn. I must’ve left it back at the apartment.
She refused to risk him recognizing one of her fake IDs, so she went for the helpless female act and a fake smile instead. “Sorry. I must’ve left it at home.”
Calculating Desires (The Rockford Security Series Book 4) Page 2
