Page 27

“Y ou’re so full of shit!” Brittany squealed as she stomped her foot next to the craps table. Maddie laughed and shook her head, and then collected her winnings from the dealer.

“I swear, I’ve never played. Are you going to have a turn?”

Brittany snorted and adjusted the plunging neckline of her blush-colored cocktail dress. “No, I’m sick of losing tonight. I’m going to quit while I’m behind. Want to get a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Good. You’re buying.”

She laughed and followed Brittany to the bar, her gaze automatically in search of whoever would be watching her.

She hadn’t seen Dylan’s face yet, so she had no idea what he looked like.

Nate had told her he’d be locked in his suite all night trying to find a lead with Carlos’s blacklist. Would Ashley be out without him?

She hadn’t seen her yet tonight either. Then again, it was hard to pick any familiar face out of the throngs of people in the casino.

Men in thousand-dollar suits crowded around the blackjack tables, with women drinking from tall glasses of champagne.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and her mind roamed back to the many balls and dinners she’d attended over the years.

Too many. By the end of the evening, her cheeks had hurt from forcing a smile and making uncomfortable small talk.

She had nothing against the rich and successful.

She’d had a hell of a time growing up and trying to prove herself because of her family name.

Everyone had always assumed she’d been given a golden key to life and opportunity, and she’d never had to work for anything.

When the truth was, she’d had to work harder.

She didn’t belong here. She could fit in, she could parade around with her spine straight, and her chin lifted. She could dress in a slinky gown, drink champagne, and eat a seven-course meal without yawning.

But standing in the center of utter opulence and arrogance made her crave Nate more than she ever had before. With him, she could be herself. She didn’t need to be Maddison Worth, she was just Maddie.

He didn’t treat her differently, he didn’t mince words or tread carefully.

He never held back… with anything. Her skin warmed at the memory of his hot yet gentle touch.

As much as she wanted this week to be over, had she not coerced Nate into helping her with this case, he never would have touched her.

They would have continued to share an electrically charged energy so strong and intense, but outwardly remained cold and indifferent toward each other.

He’d been frustrated with himself, and she’d resented his unrelenting loyalty to her brother.

Her chest expanded as she took the barstool next to Brittany. But Nate had finally broken through the chains that had been holding him back. She didn’t expect a proposal, for God’s sake, but fighting the attraction between them over the years had been exhausting and frustrating.

“So what was that guy’s deal?”

Maddie shook her head of Nate and frowned at Brittany. “What guy?” She caught the eye of the bartender and raised her finger. He nodded in acknowledgement, handed a martini to a woman in a floor-length black gown, and then sailed in their direction.

“Carlos. He wasn’t too happy when I came up and dragged you away.”

Maddie pressed her tongue to the back of her bottom teeth. Yeah, Carlos had exuded annoyance when Brittany had come screeching across the room. Maddie had given her a stern look and Brittany had calmed down and gently explained that she was a new fried and would love to steal Maddie for a bit.

Carlos had pulled himself together and kissed her cheek before she let Brittany tow her off. His annoyed glare had burned her back all the way to the casino despite the walls that separated them.

“What can I get you ladies?” The dark-haired bartender rested his hands on the counter. Brittany turned to face him, her chest thrust forward and her eyes sparked playfully.

“Double martini for me, please.”

“Chardonnay for me.”

His gaze swept over Maddie and his eyes met hers. A tickle of curiosity gnawed at her. Could he be one of Nate’s agents? He hadn’t given any indication… but would he tip her off if he were?

He nodded and smiled at Brittany. “Coming right up.”

“He was a little disappointed, I think. This trip was supposed to be for us to spend some time alone together and we’ve been apart more than anything.”

Brittany pushed her full lips into a pout. “Well now I feel bad.”

She waved her off. “Don’t be silly. I’m glad we’ve gotten to catch up.”

“He kind of gives me the creeps.” Brittany’s forehead wrinkled and Maddie’s jaw dropped in mock indignation. “In a sexy way.” She explained, her palm turned out as if offering a suggestion. Brittany never had been a good liar. “He seems so… possessive.”

Maddie bobbed her eyebrows. “That’s what I like about him.” Disgust curdled in her stomach. There was nothing to like about Carlos. She got to her feet and tucked her purse under her arm. “I need to go to the washroom, save my seat.”

“Course.” Brittany winked and then called something to the bartender. She sauntered across the floor, the bells and whistles of a slot machine pierced the air, and a woman jumped up and down. A few men sent her appreciative glances, but Maddie resisted the urge to shake her head and laugh.

Nate was the only man on her mind. Too bad he was holed up in his suite and wouldn’t see her in the nearly non-existent short black dress that just skimmed her thighs. She entered the empty bathroom and locked the stall door.

When she finished, she straightened and adjusted her dress. Fatigue weighed her eyelids down and her shoulders ached. All she wanted to do was retire to her room and go to sleep. But the last thing she wanted was lure Carlos upstairs. If he knew she was in early, he might try something.

She reached for the handle on the toilet—

Whomp.

The constant buzz of power ceased. A scream caught in her throat and her back slammed against the side of the stall. Darkness closed in around her, suffocating her. A soft click sounded outside the stall and the low glow of an emergency light kicked on.

She swallowed and pressed her palm to her galloping heart. The power had gone out. It was probably nothing more than a brief outage and would come back on any minute. She sucked in a breath and pushed away from the wall. Her nerves were getting out of hand.

The bathroom door slowly squeaked open. She froze.

Who would enter the bathroom when the power was out? The lock clicked in place, echoing throughout the marble room. Her fingers flexed on the clasp of her purse and raw panic clawed at the back of her throat. Soft-soled shoes moved across the floor.

Men’s shoes.

She backed away from the closed stall door until her leg brushed against the toilet. There was no way out. Her fingers itched to take her phone out and call Nate. But if she pulled out her phone, the bright glow would give her away.

She had to get out of this on her own.

She sure as hell wasn’t going to do it hiding in a stall. She pushed her shoulders back, opened the stall door, and stormed out. One lone emergency light above the sinks cast the bathroom in a dull glow, providing not nearly enough light.

Her eyes landed on Hector’s big hulking form and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You’re in the wrong restroom,” she said. Her voice rang with ice, warning him that she knew what he was up to.

A chilling smile slashed his face. His arms hung at his sides, and the light caught something shiny in his hand. Her breath sucked in.

A knife.

A tremor started down her spine. She wouldn’t let him see her fear. She brought her eyes back up to his and he took a step forward. Her throat strained around a scream. Would it do any good? Security would be busy with the power outage, and she doubted any passengers would come to her aid.

She should have called Nate.

“You shut the power off?” she scoffed, her arms extended into the darkness around her. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? You can put the knife away; you’re not scaring me.”

She turned her shoulder and strode to the sinks, squirting a handful of soap in her palm. She stared at him in the mirror, unable to tear her gaze away. He couldn’t be stupid enough to attack her in the bathroom with hundreds of people outside.

His chin dropped and a low snarl sounded from his mouth.

A lock of his dark hair fell in front of his nearly black eye.

He charged for her. He grabbed her throat and slammed her against the marble wall.

All of the air left her lungs, leaving a deep, burning sensation in its wake.

He lowered his face to hers and lifted the knife in front of her face.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” he said through clenched teeth. His voice wavered and his knuckles shook in front of her face. The scent of tobacco and sweat invaded her. His hair was greasy and in desperate need of a good wash.

She kept her eyes locked on his, refusing to look at the knife. If she did, her bravado would waver. But the light above them reflected off it, a constant reminder that it was there. He could do a lot of damage with one swipe.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed, the sound derisive. His forehead hovered an inch from hers.

“You’re full of shit,” he breathed.

His breath swirled around her, though unlike Tony’s and Carlos’s it didn’t bear the heavy scent of alcohol. The stench of rotting garbage or a serious lack of toothpaste clouded her space. Saliva swarmed her mouth and she stifled the urge to gag.

This had to be about Tony. Before his death, Hector hadn’t paid her any mind, though he hadn’t been welcoming either. Tony had been the one whose eyes had lingered and leered on her. This wasn’t Carlos’s style. She’d bet everything she owned that Hector was trying to trap her.