His hand gripped around the glass he was still holding. C’mon, Rogers, think. Raising the glass to his lips, he downed the entire drink without another thought. The alcohol ran smoothly down his throat, warming his insides.
I should just go after her. His bear agreed, nodding its block head. Slamming the glass down on the table, he strode toward the direction of the restrooms.
Whoa.
A wave of dizziness hit him as he made his way to the back of the room. As a shifter, alcohol didn’t stay in his system very long, and it took a lot to get him drunk. Did he drink too fast? Or was there something—
His bear growled for attention as it pointed its snout forward. There she was, it seemed to say excitedly. Quickly, he caught up to her before she entered the ladies’ room and blocked the door.
“What the hell—oh!” she exclaimed. “It’s you.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s me …” Why the heck did his tongue feel like it was going numb?
She straightened her shoulders, and planted her hands on her hips. “Can I help you?”
If she said anything after that, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t stop staring at her—his mate was gorgeous. Her long, dark hair reminded him of those chocolate commercials where they swirled the dark liquid with caramel. She was wearing a sleeveless dress that showed off her tawny skin and an intricate tattoo of what appeared to be a stained glass window on her upper arm. And her body … damn. Curves everywhere. It made him want to get on his knees and thank whoever up there deemed him worthy enough to have this goddess as his mate.
“Hello?” She waved a hand at him. “Dude, are you okay?”
“I am now,” he said dreamily. “Now that you’re here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. What do you want?”
You. Only you from now on.
Her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
Crap. He said that out loud. “I mean, uh …” God, why the hell was his brain so foggy? Was that an effect of meeting his mate? “I just … wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed to be unsteady on your feet.”
“Yeah, five vodka cranberries will do that to you,” she said sheepishly.
“I know,” he lurched forward, backing her up to the other side, pressing her against the wall. He braced himself with his forearms before he crushed her fully. Shit, shit, shit!
“Oh.” She didn’t protest though, or push him off. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he swore he saw the glitter of desire in her eyes and smell her arousal. “So,” she said, her voice low and throaty. “Do you think … maybe we should, uh, get out of here? Find some fun of our own?”
“I’ll follow you to the end of the world if you ask me to, baby doll.”
Maybe it was the throbbing in his head. Or maybe it was the sun streaming in through his lids. Whatever it was that woke him, Daniel only knew that when he opened his eyes, a dreaded feeling filled his chest. It was like his stomach was filled with ice, and he didn’t want to get up.
What the fuck happened last night?
He blinked and took a deep breath. “Ugh.” His mouth tasted like shit. Groggily, he pushed himself up and—
“Where the fuck am I?”
It looked like a low-rent motel room, based on the cheap, worn furniture, the outdated decor and springy mattress underneath him. This was definitely not their suite at the Aria.
Slinking out of bed, he rubbed his aching temple. Glancing down, he realized he was shirtless, but still wearing last night’s jeans and socks, though his belt buckle was undone. An image flashed in his mind.
Red painted fingernails reaching for the buckle.
Yellow, blue, and red ink on warm tawny skin.
Pouty lips. Velvet brown eyes turning dark with desire.
Thick lashes lowering.
And—
Nothing.
A big, fat blank.
He sank back down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. Why did he feel like something was wrong? Like something was missing.
Christ, what did I have to drink?
As he tried to retrace his steps, a different, dreaded feeling came over him. That drink. It was the last thing he remembered consuming. Was it drugged? He didn’t doubt it. He should have burned off the alcohol in one gin and tonic in minutes. When he came out of the private room, his bear had been telling him something was wrong.
His inner grizzly roared, then tumbled over, covering its face with its paws. For something to affect even his inner animal, it had to be bad. Bloodsbane, maybe? It was the only substance shifters knew to avoid. But who the hell would—
A loud, insistent ringing pierced into his skull and knocked him out of his thoughts. Scrambling around, he found his phone under the bed. Grabbing it, he quickly answered. “Hello?” Ow. Even talking made his head hurt.
“Rogers, where the hell are you?” came Anders’s furious voice over the receiver.
“I … uh, I’m not sure.”
“Well, wherever the hell you are, you better get your ass to the airport or we’ll leave without you.”
“What? What time—shit!” he cursed when he glanced up at the clock by the bedside. The digital display showed that it was four in the afternoon. “Damn it … I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He spied his shirt hanging from the corner of the bed and grabbed it.
“How long?”
“Just … wait for me, okay?” Fuck, fuck, fuck! “I’m gonna get into a cab now.”
After putting his shirt on and checking he still had his wallet in his pocket, Daniel practically flew out of the room. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the panic, but his system was starting to clear up as he made his way down the concrete stairs two at a time. Dashing out of the motel parking lot, he flagged the first cab he saw. “Airport,” he barked at the cabbie.
As he sank back into the seat, he swallowed a big gulp of air. The pain in his head was easing, but try as he might, he couldn’t put together the events of last night after they had left the private room. Bits and pieces, maybe, but he wasn’t sure what was real and what was a dream. The only thing he was sure of was the pit in his stomach was starting to feel like the Grand Canyon as the cab drove further away from the motel.
Think, Rogers. Think.
What happened last night? Where did he go?
Pink Palace. Private Room. Then the main room.
A drink. Someone sent him a drink. Candy.
His instincts told him it couldn’t have been her.
Maybe it was the guy that was hitting on her. He knew Daniel was a shifter, could feel the animosity from him. Being Vegas, he didn’t doubt it would be easy enough to obtain the right drugs to get a shifter intoxicated. Bloodsbane, most likely. Every shifter was taught about that stuff.
Surely nothing bad happened. His clothes were still on, his wallet was intact, albeit much lighter, and he didn’t seem to have any injuries. All he could remember was a sweet, delicate scent and something soft in his arms. Could he have been with a wo—
“We’re here,” the cabbie announced.
“Thanks.” He tossed the guy a bill. “Keep the change.”
As he made his way toward the private jet terminal, he pushed all thoughts aside from his mind. Damon would kill him if he missed his flight home and failed to show up for work tomorrow. The chief already had a lot on his mind, and he didn’t want his friend to worry, especially with his wedding less than a week away.
He’d have to forget about what happened last night. Of course, that wouldn’t be difficult seeing as he couldn’t remember anything anyway.
Chapter Two
Sarah Mendez hung up her apron inside her locker and sat back on the bench behind her, easing her foot out of her shoe. “Ahh,” she sighed with relief, propping her heel on her knees and massaging it with her fingers. Working twelve hours overnight on her feet was a killer, but the tips she got working as a waitress at The Griffin Resort and Casino in Las Vegas more than made up for the pain, especially when she got a chance
to work the private rooms where the whales played. Once, when a particular frequent guest won big at a hand of Pai Gao, the tip she got paid for nearly a month’s rent.
However, she knew that working twelve-hour days and nights wasn’t a longtime career move. No, she was going to get out of this particular game, while she could still walk on heels. And today was the day she would make that happen.
Grabbing her towel, she went to the showers and scrubbed off all her makeup and hair products under the hot spray, then toweled off. After changing into a prim, long-sleeved blouse, skirt, and suit jacket, she blow-dried her thick locks and put it up in a sleek bun, then applied the bare minimum of makeup.
When she looked up at the mirror, she startled even herself. Gone was the sexy, scantily-clad, tattooed, fully made-up cocktail waitress who hustled day and night. In her place was a responsible, straight-laced businesswoman.
Well, not yet. But you will be, after today, she told the reflection confidently. Yes, she had a date with destiny.
Okay, so actually, it was a date with her business loan officer down at the National Bank branch on Peach Street, but it was the same thing. After two years of working her ass off on her online business, she was ready to take the plunge and open her own boutique. She already had the perfect location in the affluent downtown Summerlin area, and the leasing company was just waiting for her signature and down payment. The contractor she’d hired was the boyfriend of a regular client and would give her a deal on the renovations. Now, the only thing she needed was the capital.
“Today’s the big day, huh?” Cathy, one of her good friends at work, said as she stopped by on her way to the shower room.
“Yup,” she said.
“Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you.” Cathy embraced her. “You deserve this. You’re so talented and smart. I knew you’d be able to get out of here.”
“Yeah,” Thea, another of the girls, piped in, giving her a playful pinch on the butt. “And you’re going to do it all by yourself, without having to rely on a man marrying you.”
“Hey now,” Cathy warned. “Keep talking like that, and people will think you’re all bitter over Stephanie getting married to her rancher from Wyoming.”
Thea rolled her eyes. “The only thing I’m bitter about is that since the wedding, he and his big wallet haven’t been back.”
“Now, ladies,” Sarah began, stepping between the two. “Green isn’t a good look for any of us.”
All three women looked at each other and burst out laughing. Oh God, I’m going to miss these girls. They all liked to joke around and pretend to be catty, but they’d saved her sanity during the last five years working here. Truly, they were all happy that Stephanie—the sweetest and kindest person Sarah knew besides her own sister Darcey—had bagged a rich, older man who worshipped the ground she walked on and put a ring on her finger. They had gotten married a few weeks back, and Stephanie quit her job and moved to Wyoming to be with him.
“Our foursome was down to three and now it’s going to be just us,” Cathy said. “Are you and me gonna grow old together here, Thea?”
The other woman snorted. “Speak for yourself, I’m going to bag myself a whale too. And when we do my bachelorette party, we’re gonna do it at a male strip club.”
Cathy chortled. “That was sneaky of you, Sarah,” she said. “Promising the bride you weren’t going to take her to a male strip club, but taking her to a female one.”
“To be honest, I never had such a good time,” Thea added with a chuckle. “Who knew watching men salivating over women and showering them with money could feel so empowering?”
Sarah pasted a smile on her face at the mention of the strip club and ignored the ice forming in her stomach. “The girls of the Pink Palace were more than happy to oblige.” They were, after all, some of her best clients. “Anyway, I should get going or I’ll be late.”
“Good luck, hon,” Thea said, squeezing her on the shoulder.
“You’ll knock this one out of the park,” Cathy said, pulling her into a hug.
“Thanks, ladies,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She strode out of the locker room, flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders, trying to get rid of the strange feeling in her gut. It wasn’t anything connected to her loan meeting—no, she was fully confident that she would get the money she asked for—but rather, it always came on when she thought about that night.
All four of them—her, Stephanie, Thea, and Cathy—were at the strip club to celebrate Stephanie’s last few days of freedom. The girls at the club and the manager had been sending their table free drinks, and so maybe she’d indulged herself a little bit. Okay, so maybe it was a lot. But she’d always been the responsible one, the mother hen who took care of everyone, so why couldn’t she just let her hair down for one night, to celebrate her friend’s happiness?
Waking up the next day with a killer hangover and no memory of what happened had been the second worst feeling in the world. The first? Well, that was when she glanced beside her and realized she wasn’t alone.
The memory of that morning still made her cringe in shame. There were flashes of what happened the night before, but not enough to piece together the exact events. At least I was still wearing my clothes. An STD from a stranger would have taught her never to drink five vodka cranberries on an empty stomach again. Or something worse. An unplanned pregnancy was the last thing she needed.
She had quickly slunk out of bed, meaning to leave the motel room undetected, though curiosity had gotten the best of her. Before she headed for the exit, she glanced back at her companion. Oh, damn.
The image of that beautiful man would be forever burned in her mind. Strong jaw, aquiline nose. Golden tanned skin. Broad, muscled chest tapering into a tiny waist and the perfect six-pack. The sprinkling of hair over his lower abdomen teasing downward. He had looked so peaceful, like an angel with his eyes closed. She wondered what the color of his eyes were.
An image of light blue-gray eyes popped into her head, making her start.
What the—
She shook her head. No, she didn’t see his eyes that morning. No way she could recall them. Yet, for the last three months, she had thought about the mystery man nearly every day. Sometimes she’d even dream of him, or thought she did anyway, when she woke up in a sweat, her body aching and wanting. For what, she didn’t know.
Stop thinking about him, Sarah, and get it together. She pushed all thoughts of him aside, even though she knew it would only be temporary.
Marching into the employee garage, she headed for her car and got in. Soon, she was pulling into one of the empty spaces of the National Bank parking lot and heading toward the front door where a familiar figure was already waiting for her.
“You’re here,” Darcey exclaimed excitedly.
“Of course I am,” she greeted her sister.
Looking at the two of them, no one would guess they were sisters. While Sarah was tall and tanned, Darcey was petite, fair-haired and curvy. Their personalities were also the opposite. Where her sister tended to be flighty and sweet, Sarah was grounded and sarcastic. But there was more to being family than blood, after all. The day they met in that awful foster home twelve years ago, Sarah and Darcey decided they were sisters of the heart.
“God, I’m so nervous,” Darcey squawked. “What if something goes wrong? Or if they realize I’m a—”
“Calm down, Darce,” Sarah soothed, placing a hand on her sister’s back, which always worked to relax her. “No one will realize anything.” She had protected Darcey and their other adopted sibling, Adam, for over a decade now, and she wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. “You’re a bright, smart woman, and that business plan you put together surely knocked their socks off.”
“We put together, but you wrote most it,” Darcey reminded her. “I typed it up and printed it out.”
“Right. We did, partner. You’re going to be a great store manager, you know.”
“Tha
nk you for believing in me, Sarah,” she said, her voice quaking.
“C’mon now,” she said, patting her on the shoulder. “Let’s go and get this loan.”
They walked into the branch, heading straight to the offices off to the side. “Sarah Mendez and Darcey Wednesday here to see Mr. Mack,” she said to the secretary sitting at the front.
“He’s expecting you, but he just stepped out.” She nodded to the empty office behind her. “You can wait for him inside.”
They walked inside the glass-walled office and sat on the chairs in front of the desk. They had barely settled in before Harry Mack walked in behind them.
“Ladies,” he greeted, his white bushy brows drawn together as he rounded his table and sat on his worn leather chair. When they first came here to apply for the business loan, Harry Mack seemed like a kind, affable guy in his mid-fifties. He had been helpful in getting all the paperwork necessary, but there was something about the blank look on his face this morning that set off Sarah’s instincts. Darcey must have noticed, too, because of her perceptive nature, and she began to fidget.
“Good morning, Mr. Mack.” Sarah did her best to sound cheerful and optimistic. “So, I hope you have those loan papers ready, because I’m ready to sign.”
He folded his hands over the table and leaned forward. “Ms. Mendez, Ms. Wednesday,” he began. “I don’t know quite how to say this, so let me get straight to the point so I won’t waste your time. Your loan application has been denied.”
“No. You can’t—” Darcey let out an inhuman cluck and she slapped her hands over her mouth as Mack raised a brow at her.
Sarah reached over and gripped her sister’s hand. Keep it together, Darcey, she pleaded silently. Despite the dreaded words and the fact that her dream was about to be shattered, Sarah managed to remain calm. “Mr. Mack, I don’t understand. When we came here last week to give you the final documents and requirements, you practically said we were a shoo-in. Now you’re saying we’ve been denied. Can you please explain to us what happened between then and now?”
Mack cleared his throat. “Upon further investigation, we realized that there was something you failed to disclose on your application. And as you may or may not know, falsification of loan documents is a crime.”
Blackstone Ranger Hero Page 2
