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Slowly, he lifted his eyes and looked directly at her for the first time. Coal-black eyes as dark as a starless night and just as unsettling pinned her to her chair. Gypsy eyes, trimmed in the longest, blackest lashes she’d ever seen, studied her, seeking the answers he knew her lips would never reveal. It was like he’d reached beyond the surface and was searching her soul.
Roxie quickly looked away.
She tried to ignore the man, but with each hand, another player dropped from the game until only the two of them were left. She studied her hand, biting her lip in concentration.
“It’s your play.” The sultry voice drifted across the table, and Roxie looked up in surprise to find those intense, dark eyes on her once again. He was waiting, watching like the careful predator he was. Roxie felt trapped. Something about those eerie eyes spoke of unseen peril. She realized in that instant just how little she knew about the people she was dealing with.
This was Vegas, after all—ruled with an iron fist by a small group of overlords.
What if Bobby Kincaid decided to carry out his own brand of justice? What if the man sitting across from her was the only judge or jury she would ever stand before?
Suddenly, her little plan to take back what had been taken didn’t seem as clever as it had that morning. She looked at the large pile of chips in the middle of the table, considering how close she’d come to winning her parents’ money back. But getting arrested—or worse—wouldn’t help Theo and Tessa. She would have to find another way.
Roxie turned her cards face down and gently placed them on the green felt table. “I fold.”
The wolf quirked a curious eyebrow.
The dealer watched the play before speaking. “Lady Luck is obviously on your side. Are you sure you want to end your winning streak?”
Roxie stood. “I think I better end my streak, before my streak ends me.”
The man on the other side of the table was studying her with a strange expression. “If you walk now, you’ll lose everything.” He gestured to the large pile of chips in the center of the table.
Her heart sank as she realized all her effort had been futile. She came in with nothing and was about to leave with nothing. She tried to paste on her most benign smile. “A true gambler knows not to push her luck.”
Ike tossed his cards down and stood, coming around the table to block her path. “Is that your secret? Luck?” he asked with poorly veiled sarcasm.
Her eyes narrowed when she noted how neatly he’d cut off her exit. “What else would it be?”
He gave a slight nod to someone behind her. “I don’t know, some of the truly high rollers claim to have a method.”
Roxie began backing away from the table and then stopped when she saw one of the little wolves standing in the path to the nearest exit. She turned and looked at another exit, and yes, there was the other little wolf in position. And all with a nod of his head, Roxie thought, as she met his steady eyes, which were boring into her.
“Well, I’m not a true high roller.” Roxie stepped back again.
For every one of her backward steps, Ike took a step forward. He watched her look around in every direction, clearly wondering if she were crazy enough to make a run for it.
He extended his hand. “Ike Bancroft, casino security. And you are?”
Roxie stared down at his long, elegant fingers. She forced another stiff smile. “Roxie…Smith.”
Ike smiled, probably at her lack of creativity. “Roxie…that suits you.”
Roxie looked around again. “You think so?”
He nodded slowly in affirmation, as his eyes slid over her slender form, taking in the gold dress that fit so well. “So, Roxie, can I buy you a drink?”
Chapter 2
“No thanks.” Roxie turned sharply, preparing to flee, and felt her arms suddenly locked in a vise grip.
“Not so fast.” His soft breath tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck.
“Let go of me,” she hissed between clamped teeth. Roxie yanked against his hold, but struggling against him was like fighting bands of steel. “You can’t prove anything.”
She gasped in surprise at her own words, realizing she’d as much as confessed. “I said, let me go. You have nothing to hold me on,” she spat, realizing their private battle was becoming public.
“Why don’t we have a little chat, first.” Pushing her ahead of him, Ike guided her across the crowded casino with little effort.
Every once in a while Roxie would jerk discreetly in a continuous, but useless effort to free herself, or try to catch the eye of one of the casino patrons in a silent plea for help. Once she almost succeeded when a man standing near a roulette table saw the desperation in her eyes. He started to move toward the couple, but the cold, dead stare he received from her companion stilled his desire to be a hero. The Good Samaritan found his feet frozen in place.
Once they were past the roulette table, Ike leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Try that again, and you gonna get someone hurt tonight.”
Roxie took a deep breath, determined to ignore the erotic feel of Ike’s warm breath on her neck. She needed to concentrate on finding a way out of this mess.
He guided her through the kitchen, ignoring the staff that looked up in mild surprise, to a small office near the back entrance. After slamming the door shut, he plopped her down in one of the two chairs facing the desk.
Ike took the seat behind it and slumped in the chair, locking his eyes on his captive.
Roxie refused to meet those eyes of his again; they were just too disconcerting. Too deep-seeing. Instead, she looked around the small office. The walls were covered with various licenses from the city and state. The small metal desk was bare, all except the small stack of papers on the corner and the remnant of a meal from a take-out restaurant.
Ike broke the silent standoff. “How about you explain to me exactly what happened out there?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Ignorance was her only defense, she decided. He couldn’t prove anything as long as she admitted nothing.
He sat forward and folded his arms across the desk. “I think you do.”
Her response was complete silence.
“You’ve piqued my curiosity, Roxie.” He smiled softly, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. “Just tell me how you did it. That’s all I want to know.”
More silence.
“I must admit, I’m a little disappointed. You struck me as a pro, a real smooth operator. But now I see…this is just another amateur night.”
Unable to help herself, Roxie’s eyes flashed to his.
Ike stood and came around to the front of the desk. He leaned one hip against the empty surface, and moved forward until their faces were level.
Roxie felt her heart pick up its cadence, beating rapidly against her chest. She pressed herself back into the chair trying to put as much distance as possible between them, still unsure of the fearful excitement he seemed to arouse. Granted, he was a good-looking man, but she knew it wasn’t his face that she was responding to. It was something else, something deeper. He was such a still creature, slow moving and quiet. But the energy coming off of him was like bolts of lightning shooting around her head.
“Come on,” he cooed seductively. “It’s not often I get the opportunity to talk to someone with your expertise.”
Give me a break. She maintained her silence, focusing her attention on a small puncture hole in the vinyl covering of the other guest chair. Her busy mind worked for a way to extricate herself. A way that did not involve being detained half the night, or being turned over to the police. Despite his sweet talk, Roxie knew for certain that as soon as she even hinted at the truth, the wolf would rip her to shreds.
“I’m not looking for a collar tonight, just a lesson. Educate me. How’d you do it?”
Roxie folded her arms over her chest. “Either charge me or let me go. I know my rights. You can’t just hold me here indefinitely.”
“You can tell me or the police. It’s your choice.” The seductive tone of his voice was instantly replaced by pure steel.
Roxie’s whole body stiffened reflexively before she forced herself to relax. “It must be really hard playing good cop, bad cop all by yourself.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “All right, let’s cut the bull. Just tell me how you did it, and I’ll let you go.” He popped his fingers. “Just like that.”
She set her full lips in a determined fashion, letting him know there would be no more involuntary confessions. “I have nothing to tell. I’m just a gambler who got lucky.”
She stood and he stood with her. Roxie felt her whole body shiver in response to the sudden nearness. Get a hold of yourself! she scolded.
“I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, lady. But you are playing a dangerous game.”
Roxie was far more afraid than she let on. His words were the very reason she’d walked away from the poker table without a dime. Fear of an unknown danger so strong it was almost palpable. “Are you going to charge me with something or not?”
“We both know you were cheating. Why deny it? All I want to know is how you did it.”
She moved to go around him, and Ike cut off her path once again.
“The Desert Rose is owned by Bobby Kincaid.”
“So what?” she snapped, more out of nervousness that nerve. Suddenly, she was remembering every rumor she’d ever heard about how Bobby Kincaid made his fortune, most of it not good. How much did this man have to do with that?
He leaned closer. Roxie took a step back, but her retreat was stopped short, when a strong arm came around her waist and held her in place.
“You’re dancing with the devil.” His warm breath touched her ear, and she swallowed hard. Ike pulled back and looked directly into her eyes. “I’d advise you to remember that the next time you consider visiting this particular establishment.”
I know. She allowed herself to stare into the bottomless pit of his liquid eyes. I know. Roxie shook her head to break the spell he’d cast over her. She pushed past him, and opened the door.
“Next time I won’t care how you did it, but I’ll make sure you never do it again.”
His chilling words caused her to pause.
“If you ever show your face in my casino again, be prepared to face the consequences.”
Roxie knew there was no mistaking the threat in those words. She walked out and gently closed the door behind her.
As soon as she was through the door, Ike was on the radio telling one of his men to discreetly shadow the woman and report back to him with the license plate number from her car.
He fell into his chair, thinking about the mystery woman. He’d studied every detail of her face. Soft brown eyes, almost the exact same color as her flawless bronze skin. A cute little upturned nose over full, inviting pink lips. Her short curly hair, tinted with blond highlights covering her head in an unruly mass had framed her small face. He willed himself to see beyond the pretty face to the deceitful, conniving heart that must lie beneath.
She’d crossed her legs at the knee, and Ike had unconsciously licked his lips. They really were exceptional, he thought. But she was a con artist, a hustler, a cheat, and despite her very appealing attributes he must never forget that.
He wondered if maybe he’d poured on the Capone routine too thick. He wanted to scare her, and was certain it had worked. He only hoped it was enough to keep her away.
Ike thought she looked like a prim school-teacher reprimanding a disobedient student. Although, if any of his teachers had looked like her, he never would’ve graduated.
He closed his eyes, and lay his head back on his chair, remembering those incredible legs. He’d already identified, categorized and labeled the intense feelings. Raw lust, nothing more.
Bobby Kincaid leaned across the large oak desk. His fisted hands were braced against the surface as he stared in utter disbelief at the man who was more like a son to him than his own biological child. “Are you telling me that you just let her walk out of here? Without so much as a slap on the hand?”
Ike sat forward in his chair with his hands resting on his knees.
“What were you thinking?”
“What did you want me to do, Bobby? Arrest her on the charge of what we suspect?! She didn’t actually steal anything! She didn’t take a dime from the table. Not one cent. I had nothing—and she knew it. And more importantly, she knew we could not have proved it, even if she did take the money. Quite honestly, I’m not sure why she left it.”
Bobby huffed, as he considered that bit of information. He turned and paced to a full-length window that overlooked the Las Vegas strip. He took in the flashing neon signs, the various advertisements for dancing girls and other assorted forms of carnal amusement. This was not only Sin City, this was his city. “How do you think she did it?” Bobby asked the vague question, never taking his eyes off the scenery below.
“Honestly…I don’t know. None of my guys spotted her doing anything even the remotest bit suspicious…besides winning. Under different circumstances, I probably would’ve blown it off. But there is no way she could’ve won that amount—that quickly—without cheating. Lady Luck is not that generous.”
“Then how?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was counting the cards.”
“That’s impossible.”
Ike shrugged his shoulders. “It’s been done.”
“Not in my casino.” Bobby leaned against the front of the desk. “Besides, the chances of that are what? Like, one in a million?”
“Greater than that. But it is possible, how else could you explain it?”
Bobby returned to his position by the window. “I don’t buy it.”
Ike slumped back in his chair. “Okay, you were watching. You tell me how she did it.”
“I don’t know how she did it. But I do know that she didn’t count the cards.”
He paused for a long moment. “Find her and bring her to me.”
Ike shot straight up in his chair. “Why? It’s not even your money she was taking.” Ike spoke with obvious anger.
Bobby swung around at the venomous tone. Despite his small stature, he was a big man in Las Vegas. As the sole owner of the Desert Rose Casino, his name carried a lot of weight. There were very few men who put the fear of God in him. But when Ike, his godson, was angry, he shot to the top of that list.
Bobby was certain Ike would never turn on him, he knew the boy loved him as much as he was loved in return. But when Ike was angry, there was something in those dark eyes of his that just didn’t seem…normal.
Bobby was sure it had something to do with the Navy training, and those years Ike had spent as a SEAL. No matter how Bobby tried, Ike would never discuss those years with him. But like everyone else, Bobby had heard rumors of some of the things done to the young men who volunteered for the special tactical training. The cruel and often barbaric treatment was supposed to prepare them mentally and physically in the event they were ever delivered into the hands of the enemy.
Maybe one day, Ike would confide in him, but right now, all Bobby wanted was to defuse a volatile situation. He recognized the emotion in Ike’s eyes right away. He’d been on the receiving end of that look of jealousy—raw and dangerous—several times since the day he purchased the Desert Rose, but never from this young man. All this over a woman he’s just met?
“Ike, I know you think I’m some lecherous old man who jumps on every pretty woman who crosses my path—”
Ike arched one eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
“Not this time. All I want is information. Think about it…what if she was using some new technique. Some new way to cheat that neither of us is aware of. This thing could kill Vegas overnight. We need to know what she knows.”
The chances of Roxie having a photographic memory were slim to none, but new technology was being confiscated in casinos everyday. The chances of her using some new methods that he was just not familiar with were much more believable, much more acceptable. And a lot easier to prove.
Ike unleashed a gruff breath, as much as admitting Bobby was right. “Okay, I’ll check with some of my sources, and other casino security teams to see if they have encountered anything like this.”
