The Wedding Gamble Page 9

  He replaced the cat in the box. “Now we see who gets the gift.”

  She began carefully rewrapping the package. “Did he give you a name?”

  “Cassandra.”

  “Ah. Maybe a girlfriend he wants to impress.”

  “I doubt it’s anything that simple.”

  “In Greek mythology, Cassandra was a beautiful woman who foretold doom and destruction.”

  “Now I really have a bad feeling about this. You should stay here.”

  “Oh, no.” She patted the bow on top of the package. “I won’t let you go alone. Besides, I really want to see the circus.”

  Chapter Eight

  David wasn’t happy that Laura insisted on coming with him to deliver the package, but he didn’t see the point of wasting energy arguing with her. She might remind Zacolli of a pastry, but David knew her to have a core of steel. She was much stronger—and more stubborn—than she appeared.

  “Did you know Mr. Zacolli knew your father?” she asked as they maneuvered through the Saturday night crowds toward Circus, Circus at the far end of the Strip.

  “Yes.”

  “Is that why you were assigned to go undercover? Because of that connection?”

  “Yes.” Actually, he hadn’t been assigned to this job—he’d asked for it, and for all the others that had led to this one. All his efforts to take down lesser crime figures had been made with the goal of one day bringing Zacolli to justice. He couldn’t let anything or anyone get in the way of making that happen—not even Laura

  “But you don’t want to talk about your father.”

  “Right.” He suspected the primary reason Zacolli had even brought up the subject was because he knew it made him uncomfortable. Men like Zacolli built careers on knowing how to keep other people off balance, but it was a game David had learned to play well also. He held open the door to Circus Circus and motioned her inside.

  Unlike the opulence of the newer Vegas hotels, Circus, Circus’s lobby had the feel of a more ordinary motel; no movie props or Venetian plaster here. Instead, the lobby was full of families and children—more children than David had noticed since landing in Vegas. They piled onto the lobby sofas, raced across the carpet, and huddled around the casino entrance, peering in at the slots and table games.

  “How are we supposed to find Cassandra?” Laura asked.

  He scanned the area until he spotted a dark-suited man with a radio in his hand. Casino security. He made his way over to the guy. “Where can we find Cassandra?” he asked.

  Zacolli didn’t usually deal with nobodies and, at least at Circus Circus, Cassandra was somebody. “Whatever you got, she’s not interested,” the guard said.

  “What I have comes from Mr. Zacolli.”

  The man’s bored expression changed to one of wariness. “Follow me.”

  He led them through a side door opposite the casino, through a maze of back hallways that smelled of dust, urine, and the kind of pine cleaner that reminded him of jails and gas station restrooms. After ten minutes of walking, they stopped in front of a doorway with a faded gold star on the front. “Miss Cassandra, someone to see you.”

  The woman who opened the door had the tight, brittle beauty of an older woman who had spent a great deal of money to preserve and improve her appearance. “I don’t know you,” she said.

  “Mr. Zacolli sent me.”

  These magic words opened the door wide for them. In her dancer’s heels, Cassandra was as tall as David, dressed in silver and purple sequined pasties and G-string. She perched on a stool at a dressing table and studied him coolly. Feathery false lashes rimmed her eyes, and glitter dusted her sallow cheeks. At close range, she looked like an aging, faded doll. “You don’t look like the typical stage door Johnny.” Her gaze flickered to Laura and dismissed her just as quickly. “What do you want?”

  “I have a package for you from Mr. Zacolli.”

  Her smile was as practiced and knowing as the rest of her, her teeth large and unnaturally white against her crimson lips. “Then give it to me.”

  He handed over the plastic hotel laundry bag in which he’d carried the package. She glanced inside. “I’ll let Frankie know it arrived safely,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Laura asked.

  The smile became a sneer. “You should teach your girlfriend not to poke her nose into things that don’t concern her.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend. I’m his wife.”

  He took Laura’s hand and squeezed it. Now wasn’t the time to get into an argument.

  “And you think being his wife makes you special?” Cassandra shook her head. “You should have been his mistress. Wives stay home and look after brats. Mistresses get expensive gifts.”

  “We’d better go now.” David pulled Laura from the room.

  She didn’t say anything until they reached the end of the corridor. “I would never want to be like her. I would rather have a home and family than all the cats stuffed with cash in the world.”

  How many women like Cassandra had he seen in his years chasing the mob? The lies and killing and deceit of their men stole any softness or tenderness they might have once possessed. “You could never be like her.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “You don’t belong in this kind of life.” Now that Zacolli believed they were married, he’d find some excuse to send her home to Davenport. As much as he’d miss her, he needed to keep her safe.

  “Do you really know where we’re going?” she asked as he steered them down another long hall. “Because I’m completely lost.”

  “I’m pretty sure the Strip is this way. We just have to find an exit.” He opened a door and the strains of rock music, punctuated by excited screams, washed over them. “I think we’re getting close.”

  They stepped into the amusement park at the heart of the casino. A roller coaster thundered past, neon light reflecting the delighted or terrified faces of the screaming passengers. Rides spun, raced, and launched passengers into space in a dizzying cacophony of light and sound. The aromas of popcorn and cotton candy added to the midway feel. He led Laura into the melee, searching for an exit.

  “Abruzzo.”

  Charlie gripped his shoulder hard enough to send pain shooting down his arm, but he forgot the discomfort when he saw that Victor had hold of Laura. “Let her go.” He lunged toward them, but Charlie held him back.

  “We’re not going to hurt her,” Charlie said. “He’s just going to keep her occupied while you and I talk.”

  Helpless, he watched as Victor led Laura away. She looked back at him and smiled the strained expression of a woman attempting to be brave in the face of terror.

  …

  “Where are you taking me?” Laura demanded, trying to pull away from Victor’s grasp.

  “I’m just getting you out of the way for a bit while Charlie has a few words with your husband.” He stopped at the carnival ticket booth and bought a long string of tickets.

  She had to keep him talking. As long as he was talking, he wasn’t doing anything else, right? “Do you have a wife?”

  He stared. “What kind of a question is that?”

  “When we were visiting with Mr. Zacolli, I was the only woman in the room. I just wondered if any of you were married.”

  “I’m married. But she stays home with the kids.”

  Cassandra’s disdainful words came back to her, but she pushed them away. “How many children do you have? Boys or girls?”

  “One of each.” He almost smiled. “Smart, too. My girl makes straight A’s and the boy’s already a whiz on the computer.”

  “Do they know what you do for a living?”

  All traces of warmth vanished. “What’s it to you?”

  “David and I want a family someday,” she lied. “I’m just trying to figure out what that’s going to be like.” The thought of children growing up with a father who threatened people for a living—and worse—made her sick to her stomach. If David really had been part of the mo
b, and if the two of them had been seriously contemplating a future, he wouldn’t have had to persuade her to leave—she’d have been running as fast and as far as she could.

  “Take my advice—don’t start a family too soon. Not ‘til you see how things go.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “The way things are going, your husband may not have much of a future in this business. You like roller coasters?” Victor pulled her into the line for the Circus Circus coaster.

  “No.” Zipping up and down and around at breakneck speed was not her idea of a good time.

  “Maybe you’ll learn to love them.” He handed the attendant their tickets and waited until the man had walked away, then shoved her into an empty car, fastened her seat belt and lowered the safety bar. “Have fun,” he called as the car jerked away.

  What had he meant, that David might not have a future in the business? People didn’t just resign from the mob, did they? She fought down panic that had nothing to do with the ascending coaster. She craned her head, trying to spot David and Charlie, but the lights and movement made it impossible to distinguish faces in the crowd, and as the roller coaster car climbed higher toward the roof, everyone looked smaller and smaller.

  The first descent caught her off guard, and she screamed as the car plummeted downward and her stomach rose up. The cars rattled around a sharp curve, then began another steep ascent. She clenched her teeth and gripped the safety bar. The next time she saw Victor, she was going to find a way to make his life miserable. Glue in his shorts, gum in his hair, and ants in his pants would be too good for him. And how pathetic was it that all the tortures she could devise for him were the same ones her toddler class might suggest? David was right—she really wasn’t cut out for this life.

  The cars raced up an incline, then she was upside down, screams tearing from her throat. She had no time to recover before she was slung around a curve and turned upside down yet again. Her stomach lurched, but she had no time to be sick. The coaster rocketed through yet another series of turns before mercifully jerking to a halt and the safety bar snapped up. She staggered away from the ride. “David!”

  Several people turned her way, but they quickly returned their attention to the slot machines or video poker or cotton candy that had been mesmerizing them.

  Frantic, she scanned the crowd. She had to find David…Before Charlie decided to end his “career” with Zacolli now.

  …

  Charlie lived up to his job description as “muscle,” David decided. He held him in an iron grip and dragged him through the crowd and out a door into an alley as if he were taking out the trash. Not a good image. He struggled and took a swing at the thug, but all his efforts earned him was a cuff on the side of the head that made his ears ring.

  Charlie shoved him up against the concrete wall of the casino. “Listen to me.”

  The man had breath like the inside of a Dumpster. “I’m listening.”

  “You think you got Mr. Zacolli fooled, but I know better. I know you’re dirty, and I’m going to find a way to prove it.”

  “Are you jealous? Afraid I’m going to take your job as Zacolli’s enforcer?”

  “That’s Mr. Zacolli to you.” He hit David on the side of the head again, a vision-blurring swat. “You’re the worst kind of coward,” he growled. “Hiding behind a woman’s skirts. She may think you brought her to Vegas for a honeymoon, but I’ve seen you sniffing after Tommy Zacolli. Are you as big a faggot as he is?”

  “So you are jealous.” He ducked to avoid the blow this time. If Charlie really wanted to kill him, he would have done so by now. He wouldn’t let the big man think he had him cowed, but David would pay for that bravado. Charlie didn’t have to kill him to make him feel pretty miserable.

  “Charlie!”

  Both men froze and stared toward the end of the alley, where it opened on to the street. He thought his vision must still be playing tricks on him. “Laura?”

  Charlie pulled his pistol and pointed it at her. “Go away,” he ordered. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Do as he says, Laura.” David’s mouth was so dry he could hardly get the words out. Fear—deep, shaking, bone-melting fear flooded through him—not fear for himself, but for her. He’d withstand any punishment to protect her, to buy her time to escape.

  “Victor is looking for you,” she said to Charlie. “Mr. Zacolli wants to see the two of you. Now.”

  Charlie’s grip on David loosened, but he kept the gun pointed steadily at her. David wondered what his chances were of wrestling it away.

  “You’re lying,” Charlie said. “Victor is supposed to be with you.”

  She blinked, but managed to keep her expression impassive. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I were you, I wouldn’t want to keep Mr. Zacolli waiting.”

  Charlie made a growling sound under his breath. David could practically hear the mental gears turning—did he stick around to teach David a lesson and risk the slim chance that Zacolli really was looking for him? Was getting back at David worth possibly angering his boss?

  Charlie shoved him hard against the wall once more and slid the pistol back into his coat. “We aren’t done,” he muttered.

  Laura stepped aside as he raced past her out of the alley, then she hurried to his side. “Are you all right?” She touched the tender spot on the side of his head.

  “Don’t say anything.” He took her hand and kissed it, relief flooding him, making him weak in the knees all over again. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  …

  They took a taxi to their hotel and hurried across the lobby. When the elevator opened, David pushed her in ahead of him and hit the button to close the door.

  Neither of them said a word as the car ascended, the lighted display counting off the floors—five, six, seven…Laura began to tremble, chilled as the adrenaline ebbed.

  “You shouldn’t have come after me. Not alone and unarmed. He could have killed you.” His voice shook, though she couldn’t tell if it was from rage or relief.

  “I had to come after you,” she said. “I couldn’t just leave you.”

  Between eight and nine, David mashed the stop button. Then he backed her against the side of the car and kissed her, his lips crushing hers, his body a wall of muscle and heat. “That was the craziest, stupidest, most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen,” he said when he finally broke the kiss.

  “When he pulled that gun, I thought I was dead,” she whispered.

  Was that her heart or his hammering so hard? Pressed so close together, she couldn’t tell. “I should have tried the condom trick again. Do you think they’d have bought it?”

  “You are the most amazing woman. Did you know that?” He gave her a heavy-lidded look, and her insides felt like melting chocolate.

  “Y…you’re a pretty amazing guy.” She squirmed against him, wanting to be closer, to feel…everything. Something was happening here, something they’d both been wanting for a while now.

  “Is that true what you said earlier, about the height of the table, and the G-spot?” As he spoke, he slid his hand under her skirt and slipped his fingers under the elastic of her panties.

  “I…I don’t know. I read somewhere…” She gasped. He’d slid one finger into her and she’d lost the ability to think or speak.

  He dipped his head and ran his tongue along the neckline of her dress, across the top of one breast. “You managed to distract Victor.”

  “Uh-huh.” With his free hand, he pushed down her bra to expose her nipple. She thrust against him as he drew the sensitive nub into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder. Electric currents of desire rocketed through her. Was it really possible for people to spontaneously combust? She might be the first.

  He rocked against her, his erection a steel rod pressed against her hip. “Am I going to have to handcuff you to the bed every time I go out to keep you from following me?” he asked.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she sa
id. “Do you have a whip and a blindfold, too?”

  His answer came in the form of another searing kiss. She clawed at his shirt, tugging it from his pants and running her palms across his ribs. She trembled with need for him, her hands clumsy as she fumbled with his belt.

  But he pushed her hands away. Instead, he sank to his knees, shoved up her skirt and pushed her panties aside and began stroking her with his tongue.

  She moaned, and thrust against him. Oh. My. God. “I want you inside me,” she pleaded.

  “And I want to be inside you. But not here. Not in this dirty elevator car.”

  Was it dirty? She hadn’t noticed. Her senses had narrowed, focused only on him and the incredible way he made her feel.

  He stood and straightened her skirt. “Besides, the angle’s all wrong. Let’s go to the room and do this right.”

  She nodded, still unsure of her ability to speak coherently. He started the car moving again and straightened his own clothes. Once more they stood side-by-side, unspeaking, not touching, though the heat of desire was an invisible bond.

  The door opened and David took hold of her hand to lead her down the hall. But another hand waylaid her as soon as they stepped from the elevator. “We have to talk,” Rachel said. “Now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Still foggy with lust and adrenaline, Laura stared at her sister. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”

  “I have to talk to you.”

  “Not now!” She tried to pull away, but Rachel held her like a python squeezing the life out of a rabbit.

  “Yes, now.” Rachel glared at David as if daring him to say anything.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing you need to be concerned about. Laura, come with me.”

  Clearly, Rachel was in one of her moods. She wouldn’t back down. When she was little, she’d hold her breath until she passed out when she didn’t get her way. As she grew older, she evolved to throwing breath-taking tantrums or nagging until you wished your ears would fall off. “Go on to the room,” Laura gave David a look of apology. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”