The Wedding Gamble Page 7

  She sat on the end of the bed, her stomach churning. Couldn’t they even have dinner without worrying someone was going to come after them? Playing spy was definitely not fun anymore—and definitely not a game.

  Gun out of sight once more, David opened the door, and a waiter rolled in a room service cart. Front and center on the cart sat a cake adorned with hissing sparklers. “Happy birthday to you,” the waiter sang. A grin split his surfer-boy face. “Happy birthday to you!”

  Laura applauded, afraid to look at David in case she burst into tears. She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, unable to speak

  The waiter took a bottle of champagne from a silver ice bucket, wrapped it in a towel, and thumbed out the cork with a festive pop! While the sparklers continued to blaze atop the cake, he poured two glasses and presented one to Laura. “I hope you have a memorable birthday, Miss,” he said, and bowed.

  Memorable was the perfect word for this day. No matter what happened the rest of her life, she would never forget this particular birthday.

  David escorted the man to the door, pressing what she assumed was a generous tip into his hand. She sipped the champagne, determined to compose herself. David shut and locked the door, then returned to her side. “Happy birthday,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She nodded to the still glowing cake. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “You deserve a special day.” He picked up the second glass. “To Laura,” he said, touching the rim of his glass to hers.

  “Thank you. I…I’m a little overwhelmed. I never expected anything like this.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.” Suddenly, she was starving.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the small table by the window. “There’s more than cake on that cart.”

  She sat, and he transferred steaks, baked potatoes, and steamed vegetables to the table. The scent of the food was maddening, and as soon as he settled across from her in front of his own plate, she attacked her meal. If she couldn’t have David, at least she could enjoy the food. “This is delicious,” she said between bites. “Perfect.”

  “I wanted to do something to celebrate,” he said. “In my family, birthdays were always a big deal.”

  “Mine, too,” she said. “I don’t want you to think my family ignores me or anything like that. It’s just, with all the excitement and the stress of the wedding…” She let the words die away. She had been feeling a little ignored and neglected lately. And maybe a little jealous, too, of Rachel’s happiness. Maybe she hadn’t yet found her happily-ever-after with the love of her life, but for tonight she had a handsome, attentive man sitting across from her. She could think of many worse ways to celebrate a birthday.

  “They owe you a really big party next year,” he said.

  “I don’t know.” She rolled the stem of her champagne glass between her fingers. “It’s going to be tough to top this birthday for memorable. I mean that in a good way.”

  “So you always dreamed of spending your birthday hiding out from the mob.” His ocean colored eyes studied her with unnerving intensity as he sipped more champagne.

  “Hey, I’m in Las Vegas, in a gorgeous hotel room, eating filet mignon and sipping champagne, with a fabulous diamond ring on my finger. I won $1500 playing blackjack. And I’m seated across from a handsome, thoughtful man who’s turned a dull duty trip with my sister into an exciting adventure. I don’t think birthdays get much better than that.”

  “Who knows? The night is young.”

  He spoke the words lightly, but the memory of the kisses they’d shared on the canal, coupled with the way he’d looked at her when she’d stepped out of the shower, reminded her of all the things that could happen yet with just the two of them locked into a hotel room for the night.

  All the things she wanted to happen…She might not have known David very long, but the past twenty-one hours had proved she could trust him with her life. Trusting him with her body, too, seemed only natural. And the only birthday present she really wanted.

  …

  If David hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn someone had turned up the heat in the room. But Laura was responsible for the fire in his gut, fast spreading south. Lusting after her was rapidly becoming an obsession to rival his pursuit of Frank Zacolli.

  That was a problem. He didn’t have room in his life for two obsessions. If she’d been anyone else—a Vegas showgirl he’d hooked up with, or even a female colleague he’d known for years, he wouldn’t have hesitated to shove this table out of the way and propel them both to the king-size bed that beckoned from across the room.

  But Laura was different—not exactly innocent, but certainly naïve. She trusted him—too much, probably. And while she’d thrown herself into the fantasy of playing his wife, with a determination he found touching, this was bound to end badly. Or at least abruptly.

  He was going to hurt her, so why make things worse? People could talk all they wanted about modern women and consenting adults, but sex meant something to women like Laura, women who trusted so completely and revealed their emotions so easily. Sleeping with her would represent a commitment he wasn’t prepared to make.

  That diamond ring on her finger and their names side-by-side on a marriage license—no matter how temporary—meant something to Laura, even if she’d never admit it. As much as he wanted to make love to her—and right now he couldn’t remember wanting anything more—doing so would be a very bad idea.

  She pushed aside her plate. “That was delicious. Now it’s time for dessert.”

  The words sent a jolt straight to his groin. Yes, he wanted dessert, all right: Laura naked and served up on clean sheets.

  “Do you want to cut the cake, or should I?”

  Cake. He’d forgotten about the cake. “You can cut it.”

  She cut them each a large wedge of the cake. It was chocolate, with vanilla buttercream frosting, Happy Birthday, Laura written across the top in pink icing, with pink confetti dusting the top. “This is my absolute favorite kind of cake,” she said. “When I was little, the rest of the family called me boring when I insisted on chocolate cake with white frosting for my birthday every year.”

  “My favorite was cherry cake with chocolate frosting—cherry cake mix and fudge canned frosting. It had to be that combination, nothing from scratch or from a bakery. My mother always said it was her favorite, too.”

  “Are you an only child?” Laura asked.

  He nodded. “Most of the time it was just me and Mom.”

  “What happened to your father?”

  “He was…away a lot.” Jackie Abruzzo was a shadowy figure who’d lurked on the edge of his life. When he was home he sat at the kitchen table for hours at a stretch, talking on the phone, smoking cigarettes, and playing cards while his mother hovered, silent and anxious, making cup after cup of coffee for the men who came and went visiting Jackie. Then one day, he would wake up and he and his mother would be alone again. David would slip into the role of the man of the family, always trying to cheer up his mother, who over the years became sadder, thinner, and more faded.

  “That must have been tough for you,” Laura said. “Where are your parents now?”

  “My dad died when I was seventeen.” He hadn’t seen him in a couple of years by then. Hadn’t wanted to see him. “My mom passed away a few years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

  They were the same words everyone said, but Laura sounded as if she meant them, as if she might be close to tears on his behalf.

  “Hey, nothing to be sorry about,” he said. He reached out and wiped a smudge of frosting from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, then sucked the bit of sweetness into his own mouth.

  Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and every bit of his resolve flew out the window. He leaned across the table and kissed the corner of her mouth where the frosting had been. But all he could taste was her. All he wanted was her.

  She slid her hands up to gr
asp either side of his face and guided his lips directly over her own. Not breaking the kiss, he shoved the table aside, dishes rattling, silverware sliding onto the floor. She clutched at his shirt as he knelt over her in her chair, one of his knees planted between her legs, the other wedged between her thigh and the arm of the chair. He coaxed her lips apart with his tongue and deepened the kiss, a growl of mingled frustration and anticipation rising from somewhere in his chest. She slid down in the chair, straddling his knee, the moist heat of her center grinding shamelessly against him.

  He cupped his hands over her breasts, massaging her through her bra. He wanted to bury his face between them and inhale the scent of her, then suck on the distended nipples until she screamed his name. She writhed beneath him, her breath coming in gasps as she shoved his shirt up off his stomach to bunch around his shoulders. She stroked his stomach and his ribs, every touch sending little earthquakes of arousal through him.

  “David!” The word was half-plea, half-endearment. He loved the sound of it, loved knowing she was thinking only of him in this moment.

  “Laura,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the vanilla and spice scent of her. To hell with doing the right thing. Right now, she wanted to be with him. He’d make sure this was one night she’d never forget.

  He’d slid his hand under her blouse and was easing one finger under the edge of her bra while she moaned softly in his ear when an annoying vibration began in the vicinity of his pants pocket. He stilled, but the vibration did not.

  Laura opened her eyes. “What’s that? Is that your phone?”

  He groaned and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to answer it. Not many people have this number and a message from any of them would be important.”

  “Of course.” She extricated her hands from the tangle of his shirt and sat up straighter in the chair, pulling down both blouse and skirt as she did so.

  He jerked the phone from his pocket and checked the display. He groaned even louder.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He shook his head and hit the icon to answer the call. “What is it?” he growled.

  “We have to change our meeting time,” Tommy said. He spoke with the whispered urgency of a boy trying to avoid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “They just left for a late dinner at the Luxor and they won’t be back until ten. We need to meet now.”

  “Now isn’t good,” David said.

  “It’s now or not at all. My father wants me to go out with him when he gets back.”

  “The restaurant will be open.”

  “No it won’t be. They only do breakfast and lunch. The place is deserted. I checked.”

  He couldn’t see a way out of this. He couldn’t let his hormones ruin months of work. “Ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

  “Trouble?” Laura asked when he hung up.

  “I have to go see someone. Business.” He’d confided to her about his earlier meeting with Tommy, and she’d ended up tangling with Victor and Charlie. He wouldn’t expose her to danger again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  He checked the pistol, then shoved it into the small of his back and reached for his jacket. It was never safe, but he didn’t need to tell her that. “It’ll be okay.”

  She didn’t ask to come with him, didn’t question him about who or what or where—all things she’d done earlier. Was it because she was too hurt and disappointed that he’d abandon her now? Or because she was smart enough to know he wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to know?

  “Be careful,” she said softly as he turned to go.

  He turned back and kissed her, hard, on the mouth, then hurried away, hoping the walk to the Strip would help him clear his head and focus on the job at hand. He needed to think about the reason he was here, not the woman he was leaving behind.

  …

  At least Laura could take comfort in the fact that David hadn’t wanted to leave her. And when he came back, maybe they’d pick up where they left off. Yes, her head told her she definitely shouldn’t get involved with a man who was practically a stranger—and was maybe dangerous— but her body clearly had other ideas.

  But what if David didn’t come back? She sat up straighter, shaking off the fog of arousal, champagne, and sugar. David was going out alone to meet with someone. She didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that someone was most likely Tommy Zacolli. He must have moved up the meeting from midnight. And who was Tommy Zacolli? A member of the mob—and therefore, a dangerous criminal.

  David had probably done similar things before, and his bosses obviously trusted him enough to let him work alone. What had he said—the Imperial Palace? Had they changed the meeting place as well as the time?

  She stared glumly at the remains of dinner, then reached over and carved off a thin slice of cake. Sugar would help, right?

  Or not. As soon as the cake was in her mouth, she remembered David kissing frosting from her lips. Even near-sex with him was better than anything she’d ever had, and the thought of him being hurt, tortured, or worse made her physically ill.

  She pushed away the cake and stood, grabbed her purse, and headed toward the door. She’d start her search at the Imperial Palace and see where things led from there.

  Her phone rang as she reached the elevator. “Hello?”

  “Laura, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.” Rachel’s voice rose against a background of slot machine bells and whistles.

  “I’ve been with David.” Not a subject she wanted to discuss with her sister right now. “How was pole dancing class?”

  “It was awesome. The teacher said I have natural talent.”

  “Um, great. I hope you got pictures.”

  “Of course we got pictures. Where are you now?”

  “I’m just going out to meet David.”

  “I’ve hardly seen you the past few days.”

  “It’s only been one day, Rachel. I’ve only been with David one day.”

  “It seems like more than that. Anyway, about David—I asked Josh to do a little checking into his background.”

  “You did what?”

  “Don’t go getting all angry with me. You told me yourself you just met the guy, and I want to make sure he’s not some scammer or criminal or something.”

  Laura didn’t know whether to be touched or amazed. She had to admit, she was curious to know more about the man she’d come to feel so close to in such a short time. “What did he find out?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard back from him yet. I think he was in court all day, and you know I’ve been really busy.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure he won’t find anything alarming. David’s a great guy.”

  “I’m sure he is, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

  “Yeah.” How funny that their roles had been reversed, and Rachel was trying to look out for her for a change.

  “Where are you staying?” Rachel asked.

  “Just off the Strip. The Gold Dust.”

  “What room?”

  “Why do you need to know that?”

  “Because I’m your sister, and I want to know.”

  Laura gave her the number. After all, it wasn’t as if Rachel would tell anyone else, and refusing to give her the information would only make her more suspicious.

  “We’re headed to the Lucky Penny Lounge,” Rachel said. “They have a two for one drink special. You should come with us.”

  Before David—as in, before last night—Laura would have felt compelled to go along with them in an attempt to keep Rachel from drinking too much or flirting with the wrong man or getting into trouble. That was her job as the big sister and the “responsible” sibling.

  But really, Rachel was a grown woman, and she could take care of herself or suffer the consequences. She didn’t need Laura to babysit her. The thought was both freeing and disconcerting. If Rachel did
n’t need her, who did?

  Right now, the answer was David. “Thanks, but like I said, I’m meeting David. You go and have fun.”

  “And you be careful. I’ll let you know when I hear from Josh.”

  She ended the call and stowed her phone in her purse. Josh wasn’t going to find any dirt on David. He might have omitted some information about his business here in Vegas in order to protect her, but she was sure he’d been honest about everything else. She’d trusted him with her life, and so far, he hadn’t let her down.

  She took a cab to the Imperial Palace. A sign directed her to a bank of elevators, but also to stairs that led to the mezzanine and restaurant. “Restaurant’s closed,” a man who saw her studying the sign said. “It’s all dark up there now.”

  Dark, and probably a good place to meet someone. She climbed the stairs and spotted the entrance for the Pancake Palace. Men’s and women’s restrooms flanked the restaurant, with a bank of elevators opposite. A sign noted the place was open for breakfast and lunch only. The interior was dark, chairs inverted on tables, the faint smell of maple syrup and bacon lingering over everything. Was David in there somewhere with Tommy? Was he safe?

  Chapter Seven

  As Laura debated her next move, the elevator pinged, announcing its arrival. She slipped into the ladies’ room and held the door open just enough to see out. Two familiar, bulky figures emerged and looked around. The grim expressions on Charlie and Victor’s faces made her stomach hurt.

  “Are you sure he came up here?” Charlie asked.

  “I know it was him,” Victor said. “He passed us outside the T-shirt shop, then came in here and slipped up the stairs.”

  Charlie nodded, then reached into his coat and withdrew a pistol; she thought she might throw up.

  A weapon. She needed a weapon. Why hadn’t she insisted David buy her a gun instead of a diamond ring? Not that she’d ever shot a gun before, but an unpredictable, possibly hysterical woman with a gun was bound to make even an experienced hit man nervous.