Deadly Odds (3 page)

She shifted her gaze back to Ross the Greek God. In the next ten seconds he’d walk through her sight line. After, of course, he finished giving the blonde at roulette a little extended eye contact.
Sex on steroids
. That’s what he was. Without a doubt, the man excelled at working a room. Something cinched low and deep in Kate’s belly and she breathed in.

Despite herself she was mesmerized. But she had a job to do. An important job that had her sitting at this table frittering away her boss’s money.

She shifted slightly and her dress rode up on her thighs. Not a good thing considering the pig next to her had been ogling her since she’d sat down. Right about now, she could really use the comfort of her snakeskin cowboy boots and ripped Levi’s.

Across the aisle, Ross Cooper kept moving, businesslike but in no hurry. A shout came from the general area of the craps table. She’d never quite understood the allure of craps, but people sure had fun playing it.

Cooper moved past the blonde. With a simple glance, he’d let her know that yes, he’d noticed her and yes, she was beautiful, but she would have to work for his attention.

The dealer at Kate’s table cleared the cards and started a new hand.
Ffftt, ffftt, ffftt.
The next round of cards landed in front of the other three players. Kate’s card came next. A king. Nice.

Across from her, Cooper and his Italian suit made a sharp left and bee-lined for the pit boss standing four feet from her chair.
Don’t watch him
. In the next thirty minutes she’d be in his office and, even though his boss had said he’d alert him to her visit, she wanted to go in without him having seen her at the tables. She glanced back at the table in time to see the dealer slap down an ace of spades.
Blackjack
.

Curiosity ruled and she glanced—again—at Cooper and the pit boss and found Cooper’s dark eyes pinned to her.
Oh, my
. For the second time in five minutes she’d been busted. Short on options and not wanting him to see her at a complete loss, she did the only thing she could and…and…fanned herself.

Fanning?
Totally off script here.

And God help her, Ross Cooper grinned like a madman.

“Blackjack,” the dealer said to her.

Back to the cards, Kate
.

The beer-bellied man next to her leaned close enough that his nasty, hot breath slithered over her cheek. He might be rich, but his manners needed work.

“Good job,” Beer Gut whispered as the dealer counted out her chips.

She angled away and imagined slamming this idiot to the ground and shoving her forearm against his throat. Now that would be fun.

While she attempted to give old Beer Gut the brush off, Ross Cooper arrived at her table and stopped just inches away. The muted scent of his soap, something musky—earthy—reached her and she breathed in. Having worked primarily around males at the FBI, she’d grown to appreciate the ones who didn’t smother themselves in cologne.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said in a voice that was warm brandy on a cold night. Pure sin, this man.

He drove a leave-the lady-alone look into her admirer and the man bolted upright. Without a word, Ross Cooper had spoken.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

He held out his hand. “Ross Cooper.”

I know.
She’d keep
that
quiet for the time being. This wasn’t exactly the place to announce her status as a security consultant. She clasped his hand and the pure perfection of his body heat seeped into her palm. It shot right to her core where that low squeeze happened again. “Katherine Daniels. Nice to meet you.”

He watched the dealer push the small mountain of chips her way. “Well,” he said, his smile teasing and warm. “I’d like to say it’s nice to meet
you
, but if you keep winning like this, you’ll get me in trouble with my boss.”

How she loved a man with a sense of humor. The dealer slipped another hand of cards out of the shoe.
Fffttt, fffttt, fffttt
.

“Funny,” Kate said, checking her card.
Six
. “You don’t strike me as a man afraid of trouble.”

He swept his gaze over the people sitting at her table, landing on Beer Gut. “Depends. In my casino, I don’t like trouble. In other places, trouble can be interesting.”

The dealer slid a second card in front of her.
Three.
Seriously?

The pit boss appeared behind Ross and whispered something. After a moment, he held his hand out again. “I need to go. Don’t disappear on me, Katherine Daniels.”

She tapped the fat stack of chips in front of her, then grabbed his hand. “Call me Kate. And I’m not going anywhere.”

I can promise you that.

* * *

After finishing in pit eight, Ross’s crashing sugar reminded him he’d come downstairs for a reason. Other than his annoying curiosity about a spectacular and highly suspicious redhead, his body begged for sustenance.

Too early for lunch, but he needed to eat and with another ten hours of meetings ahead of him, he might not get time again.

He hit the cafe for a sandwich. Turkey. On whole wheat—one hundred percent whole wheat—heavy on the lettuce and tomato. He left the cafe carrying a black plastic tote emblazoned with the gold Fortuna logo on both sides. One thing about Samuels, he didn’t skimp on the details. Even the take-out bags were high quality.

Thunderous yelling came from the craps table where, no matter what time of day, a crowd gathered. People couldn’t resist the rush and the yelling and the camaraderie. At this particular table, a group of guys from the Middle East high-fived.
Keep playing, gentlemen
. The house wanted to win its money back.

Beyond craps, slot machines lined the aisle, their blinging sounds loud and inviting. The sounds of heaven. At least for Ross. He lived for this. Even with the stress and Samuels constantly on him about everything from the restroom soap to profit margins, he couldn’t get enough. Running a casino brought excitement and change and risk. All that chaos offset any chance of boredom setting in when it came to number crunching.

And he’d just met Kate Daniels, a woman he’d be tracking down as soon as he got to his office. A woman he wouldn’t mind, as he’d told Don, keeping an eye on. Chances were she was a hotel guest. After watching her, both from his office and now from the pit, he didn’t peg her as a crossroader, a cheat.

But something was up there.

Given that he spent fifteen hours a day at this place—and female distractions had been in short supply these last few weeks—he’d have plenty of time to learn all he could about the lovely Kate.

Yeah, a little downtime by way of a gorgeous redhead might even out his mood. Even if this particular redhead was more girl-next-door than vixen. Unusual for him. But, he liked that hair and her creamy skin that begged to be touched.

Pretty much, he needed a woman.
That
woman.

In a bed.

Soon.

He passed the elevator bank and hooked a right, pushing through the emergency exit. No sense taking the easy way when he could use the stairs. His dawn workouts had suffered since the opening of Casino Fortuna and he needed to get back to the gym before he wound up with extra weight and a heart attack.

For Ross, a mind numbing, body-shredding workout attacked stress and demolished the insanity that came with running a casino.

He set his thumb against the pad at the door, waited for the beep and pushed through the third floor entry, where he was met by the double doors leading to the executive suite. Once again, he scanned his thumbprint and waited for the beep.

Don’s office was the first on the left and Ross’s was last on the right. In between were the offices of the V.P.s of finance, hotel operations, human resources, and marketing. All reporting directly to Samuels and wearing the battle scars to prove it. Working for Samuels meant sustaining the constant pressure that came with a guy who loved the tiniest of details. Nothing was too small for him. Even the toilet paper.

Some called him a lunatic. Probably a fair assessment. Lunatic or not, Ross was grateful. Samuels had given him the job of his dreams.

At the end of the hallway, he reached the open area across from his office and found Marcia, his assistant and all-around girl Friday pounding away on her keyboard. Her long dark hair was twisted on top of her head and secured with a pencil. How the hell she managed to get that pencil to stay in there, he had no clue, but he chalked it up to the magic his assistant could summon at will.

He’d brought her over from Dominion because she’d figured him out long before any of the other assistants had. In short, she’d had his number. A few years older than him, she knew his moods, when he was schmoozing to get his way and, most importantly, when he was about to blow his stack. Marcia also kept him on schedule and she didn’t take any nonsense.

Not from him.

Not from anyone.

In short, Marcia was the gatekeeper.

Still typing, she glanced up. “You have a visitor. Kate Daniels from Casino Consulting.”

“Kate Daniels?”

Marcia’s eyebrows lifted, but she kept typing. “I didn’t have her on your schedule. Figured you went rogue when she said you were expecting her. I put her in reception. Did you see her?”

“No. I took the stairs. Didn’t go through reception. She’s a redhead, right?”

“Right.”

“She said I’m
expecting
her?”

Marcia stopped typing and handed him a file. “Yes, Ross. She said you were
expecting
her.”

“Well, I’m not.” He jerked his thumb toward the doors. “I just met her downstairs. She was playing blackjack. Who the hell is she and why is she up here?”

“Read the file. I knew you’d ask and since I was unaware of her appointment, I did research.”

And this was why he’d stolen Marcia from Dominion. “Don’t take this wrong, but I adore you.”

Using both hands, she waved him off. “Blah, blah.”

Ross took a second to peruse the information in the file. Security consultants? What was up with this Kate Daniels? And why, if she was a security consultant here on business, was she sitting at his blackjack table?

Checking them out, that’s why. Which explained her behavior—the shifting glances, the studying—at the table. The fantastic Kate Daniels was planning a pitch to convince him he needed her services.

Well, he needed her, but not for security consulting. He had Don Sickler for that and Don was the best.

Even if he was a pain in the ass.

“Where’s Don?”

“Surveillance room. I told him you might be calling. Do you want me to get him?”

“Please. Would you let Ms. Daniels know I’ll be with her in five minutes? I need to eat before I drop.”

He marched into his office, took his seat and went to work on the sandwich while Marcia patched Don through. Ross swallowed a mouthful of his sandwich and punched the ringing line.

“What the hell is it, kid?”

Don’s loud voice filled his office and Ross lowered the speaker volume. “Kate Daniels.”

“Should I know that name?”

“Actually, you should. She’s a security consultant. That’s your wheelhouse.”

“I don’t know her. Probably a salesperson.”

Ross eyeballed the remaining part of his lunch. “She’s also that redhead we were watching.”

“Dammit.”

“Marcia’s got her in reception. How soon can you get to my office?”

“Three minutes.”

He could finish eating in three minutes. “That works.”

As promised, three minutes later, Don strode into Ross’s office, his suit jacket flying open, his belly protruding as he walked. “Where is she?”

“Still outside. I just finished lunch.”

“By the way, I had the ribs last night. Not the chef’s best work. Not enough flavor. Just so you know.”

“Crap.” Ross made a note to visit the kitchen after they were done here.

What he didn’t need was bland food being served to high rollers who would gladly take their millions to another casino. Way out here in the boonies, every detail needed tending to. Every. Detail.

“Marcia,” he called, “would you bring Ms. Daniels in please?”

“Sure.”

Ross drummed his fingers on the desk while Don made himself comfortable in one of the guest chairs. “She works for Casino Consulting, Inc. Heard of them?”

“Samuels was talking to the Dominion security chief about it last week. I told you, he’s shitting elephants.”

“Why is she here then and not at Dominion?”

Don shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“After you left my office, I went downstairs and introduced myself.”

“You were trying to pick up the security consultant?” Don threw his hands up. “Jesus, Ross.”

“Hey, I didn’t know. All I saw was a suspicious—and gorgeous—redhead, and you know how I feel about redheads.”

Don laughed, but let out a long sigh. “My blood pressure can’t take this. You’re killing me, kid. Sucking the life straight from my body.”

“Don’t blame me. It’s the ribs. Do you even know how much fat is in those things? You have to eat better or I’ll be rolling you out of here in a body bag. You’re a pain in the ass, but I like having you around.”