Gambling on the Bodyguard (4 page)

Chapter Four

Jax could only stare as Ellie’s words sank in. Jesus, this woman. All he’d wanted was to keep her away from Focker. Jerk move for all the right reasons, and now Jax was paying with his soul. He wasn’t so bothered by the fact that he wanted to taste her every delectable inch, but that he was already picturing the morning after. Pancakes in bed. Licking syrup from her nipples. Wrecked sheets and sex. Wrecked
him
. And it was too damned much, especially considering his number one rule was to never spend the night. He’d found out the hard way that waking up next to the same woman he’d gone to bed with triggered something in her that said
relationship
, and it was a mistake he wouldn’t make twice.

Getting personal—letting someone believe in him—was a mistake he’d never make again.

One funeral had been enough.

“Let’s cash out,” Ellie said, oblivious to his dark thoughts. “My friend back home gave me enough grief for coming here. She said I’d never loosen up enough to have any fun so I want at least one winning ticket to show her.”

“Then you better take a picture of it.” He showed her how to print the voucher, then used her phone to take a picture of her holding the slip for her friend. “That okay?” he asked, holding up the picture for her approval.

She peered at the image, then at him. “Almost. Do you mind being in the picture with me?”

Oh, hell. The lowest of lows…a selfie with a cash out ticket. He’d have to turn in his right to call himself a local if he agreed. He did it anyway, just in case Ellie ever wanted to look back and remember him. Another dumb move for a guy who generally preferred to be forgotten, but at some point the rules had left the building.

She snapped the picture then showed him. And it cut like a knife.

We look like a couple
.

Worse, he liked it. He
liked
looking like he belonged with someone. Liked looking like he belonged with
her
.

Hated the sudden urge he had to ask her to send him a copy.

“Evidence preserved,” she said with a grin. “Now how do we cash out?”

“Kiosk.” He pointed toward one of the ATM-like stations that traded vouchers for cash and waited off to one side while the machine paid out. As he stood there, he scoped out his surroundings, and in particular the people. Very much in particular the jerk standing way too close to Ellie. He hadn’t quit staring at her butt since he’d had the good fortune of getting in line behind her. Jax could hardly blame the guy. The woman quite possibly had the tightest ass he’d ever seen, and the snug fit of her pants didn’t let him forget it.

When she turned toward him, she walked so close he wondered if he was about to get the most amazing kiss of his life. Instead, she discretely pressed cash into his hand. “I think this is yours.”

He needed a moment to remember he’d funded her slot machine adventure. Once that hit him, he countered by closing his hand over hers. “No way, Colorado. That was on me.”

She looked up at him, all sweetness and
pretty please
. “Will you at least let me give back the two dollars?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Despite lingering thoughts over losing his sister, he didn’t have to force the smile Ellie brought to his face. “If you let me see you again tomorrow.”

She offered a wicked little grin that belied all that wholesome innocence that, at least in his mind, belonged to her. “What if I’m not finished seeing you tonight?” she asked.

Oh, hell yes
. Rather than attempt to form words in response to what sounded a heck of a lot like an invitation, he pulled her into an alcove along the wall. Once he had her semi-alone, he wound his fingers through her hair, capturing the back of her head and leaning down to meet her.

“You sure about that, Colorado?”

She nodded, her attention pegged on his mouth. Her breathing was quick, her lips parted, and he wanted nothing more than to claim them for his own.

“I want to kiss you so damned bad,” he said. “I want to know if those lips are anywhere near as soft as they look. I want to feel firsthand how your body responds to me.” With his lips grazing her ear, he added, “
I want to drench you
.”

Her sharp intake of breath sent the last of his blood to his dick. God, he wanted her. She looked up at him through drowsy, hooded eyes, no apparent clue that they were still in view of the public. The electronic dings and noises of the casino faded to the background, and he thought long and hard about kissing her. But he didn’t want to be the guy like any other she might know. He wanted to be the man she’d never forget.

With his fingers wound through her hair, he could think of little more than driving into her. Fucking her hard while she made little good girl whimpers that were lost to deep, consuming kisses. He wanted to possess her. To be possessed.

“Then do it,” she said. So softly he wasn’t sure he heard. “Drench me.”

He froze. Then ever so slowly he descended to touch his mouth to the pulse point on her neck. The warmth of her skin dizzied him. Her moan when his lips pressed against her flesh nearly did him in.

His phone chose that very moment to ring, and it was Focker’s ring tone. That
dick
. “Son of a…I need to answer this.”

She nodded, a little slow to follow him out of the alcove. She didn’t further follow him, though, when he edged a few feet away to dodge the bulk of the casino noise. “Mathis.”

“I’m having a private party,” Focker said. “I need you up here just in case.”

Jax shook his head. Leave it to Focker to invite people to his room when he didn’t fucking trust them. He didn’t blame the dude for being paranoid—he’d gotten several threats that he’d be leaving Vegas in a body bag—but it was pushing two in the morning and Focker was partial to his beauty sleep. “Don’t you have an event in the morning?”

“I’m
trying
to have an event tonight.”

Jax rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Make it fifteen.”

“I’m not in the hotel,” Jax explained. “You’re going to have to settle for thirty.”

“I’ll settle for fifteen,” Focker said, and hung up.

Jax shook his head. He had no idea what Ellie saw in the pompous little jerk, but it didn’t matter. He had her…for now. And maybe that was Focker’s problem.

She approached when he slid the phone in his pocket. “Anything wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, but duty calls.” Inconvenient as it was, at least the conundrum of how the night would end was settled. He felt like a kid on his first date, all unsure if Ellie wanted him to kiss her or shake her hand or take her to her room and fuck her senseless. He was all for the third option, but mentioning it might be impolite.

He took her hand, earning another brilliant smile that consumed him. He was a better man for it.

The walk back to the Masquerade passed far too quickly, the night ending on someone else’s terms when Focker’s manager met him in the lobby. And Ellie, just like she had when he’d gotten the phone call, immediately gave him space.

Only he didn’t want it.

Before he could get her number—phone, room, anything—she’d disappeared behind the elevator doors. Focker’s manager—who should have been with the cover model if it was such an emergency—practically had Jax by the scruff.

Jax brushed him off. Hard. “What the fuck, man?”

“He got another threatening text. Party is canceled. He wants you posted outside his door until he leaves for his first event in the morning.”

Jax stared at the long-closed elevator doors that had swallowed Ellie. Screw this. He didn’t have her room number. Or her phone number. And now this crap with Focker. “He got a text in the last ten minutes?”

“Right after he called you.”

Great. Jax would be a zombie by morning if he didn’t get any sleep. He was already twenty hours in without so much as a nap, though it hadn’t hit him until she had left him. “Give me a minute with the front desk to track down a guest.”

“I don’t think you should make him wait.”

Jax took a steadying breath in an attempt not to lose it on the manager. “Tell him it’s someone who tried to sneak in to the meet and greet earlier.”

Focker’s manager grunted. “Did you report that?”

“No, I handled it. Which is what I’m being paid to do, but I can’t be on twenty-four-hour shifts. Tell Focker I’m on my way, but I have tomorrow off.”

“He won’t like that.”

“He doesn’t have to like it,” Jax said. It was a fight to keep his tone even, but losing it would get him booted from a very well-paying job and would leave Focker down a man. That wouldn’t bode any better for Jax’s career than it would his conscience, but some things were nonnegotiable. “I’m no good to him if I’m falling asleep. We have a contract and he’s already fucking with it.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with him. You’ve got five minutes.”

That was all he needed. Jax made a beeline for the front desk. “I need a room number for a guest.”

The kid behind the counter stared through pried-open eyes. Must be new to third shift. “I’m sorry, sir. That’s against our policy.”

Maybe not so new after all. Jax withdrew a wad of cash. “Is it still against your policy?”

The guy perked. “Perhaps I can send the guest in question a message?”

“Yes, do that.” Jax crammed the money back in his pocket. He happened to know messages
were
hotel policy, and therefore free.

Dopey frowned.

“Ellie Montgomery from Colorado.” He stole the guy’s notepad from the desk in front of him and started writing. “Have room service deliver one of those all-in breakfast platters to her room at nine sharp. Include this note, and bill it to my room—the tip, too.” He showed his ID and waited for the clerk to look him up.

“Very well, sir.” He accepted the note, then read it with a raised brow. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The note of sarcasm worried Jax enough that he pulled a twenty out of his pocket and tossed it across the desk. “Don’t get forgetful. I might not know where she is, but I can sure as hell find
you
.”

Chapter Five

Ellie stretched and eased open her eyes. The brilliant desert morning sun streamed through her window to create a large, luxuriously warm square on the surprisingly plush bedding. It felt good, but nothing like Jax. He’d redefined
good
into some word that hadn’t been invented yet. Despite his bad boy exterior, he’d left her floating in a field of warm and fuzzy with the casual way he’d taken her hand. He’d probably done so to lead her through the crowds that clogged the sidewalks, but she didn’t care. She wanted to know everything about him, including the way he kissed and where those kisses might lead.
Especially
that, after the way he’d touched her.

Her phone dinged. She unlocked the screen to find the phone where she’d left it…on the picture of her and Jax. His eyes, the shallow blue of packed ice, stunned her. She’d probably see them every time she stood on a mountain in a sea of sky reflecting on fresh powder.

The phone dinged again. Her reverie broken, she swiped to find a pile of texts from her best friend. She ignored them, opting instead to send the picture of her and Jax. Seconds later, the phone rang. Grinning, she accepted the call.

“That is not the cover model,” Taylor said in lieu of a greeting. “But hot damn, he should be.”

Ellie fell back into the pillows. “The cover model was…uninteresting.”

“Of course he was, and who cares? Who’s the guy?”

“He’s the cover model’s bodyguard. My ticket fell into an auto-flush toilet. Long story short—”

“Um, wait. You can’t
long-story-short
the fact that your ticket fell into the toilet.”

“It’s not interesting, trust me. Anyway, I tried sneaking in the back entrance—”

“You?”
Doubt riddled Taylor’s voice. “You don’t sneak.”

Ellie took in the view of the Vegas strip basking in the early morning sun. Her surroundings couldn’t be more different from her home among the snow-capped Rockies, but there was something she loved about this city. Even under a sleepy morning sky, the trademark neon faded with the sunrise, Vegas promised excitement. Not that she was one to crave excitement. She sighed. “I’m hopelessly boring, I get it. Anyway, I failed. Security stopped me.”

“Security? Like, the cops?”

“No, like the guy in the picture.” A carnal thrill shimmied through her.

“Oh, dear God,” Taylor said. “Tell me he put you in handcuffs.”

“There were no handcuffs. How’s Murphy?” The change of subject did nothing to diffuse the heat in Ellie’s cheeks, and she suspected Taylor read her like a book. But Ellie could pretty much count on her mutt to give Taylor something to talk about.

“Your dog is a pain in my ass.”

“How literally?” Murphy, short for Murphy’s Law, had a knack—or more like a life’s mission—for getting into trouble at every turn. Ellie first encountered him one snowy day with his tongue stuck to a light pole and the mishaps hadn’t stopped since. She’d searched high and low for his owner—only half hoping one would turn up—and had eventually accepted the mutt as her own. Best the vet could guess, he was some kind of lab-Afghan mix. Ellie just figured
gangly mess of trouble
covered it.

Taylor gave a humorless laugh. “All those potted herbs on your window sill over the kitchen sink? Compost.”

“How did he get up
there
?”

“I think he was hiding,” Taylor said casually. A little
too
casually.

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, dimming her view of the city. “In the
sink
?”

“He had his face tucked in the corner. You know how it goes…they can’t see you, you can’t see them.”

“And why exactly was he hiding?” At least Taylor was keeping up with the dishes. Ellie was surprised Murphy fit in the sink at all. It had to have been empty.

Taylor sighed. “You know that really cute delivery guy? He showed up with a box, and I think he might have been flirting with me, but he hit the bricks when that dog started barking. So I might have yelled at the dog. And the dog might have hid.”

“In the sink?”

“I think I yelled kind of loudly. Something about how he’d just killed my chance of seeing the delivery guy’s package, if you know what I mean. And when I stopped, I realized the bell was ringing again. Turns out he’d left something in the truck and heard every word I said. So now I have a date.”

“Um, you’re welcome?” Leave it to Taylor to turn a semipublic spectacle into a date. And the delivery guy certainly was hot, but he was no Jax Mathis. A flush lit Ellie’s cheeks. At this rate, she’d set off the sprinkler system.

“Hell, yes, I am,” Taylor said. “Although I’m sorry about the herbs. Sort of.”

Ellie laughed. “I think it was worth it. Hopefully this guy turns out better than the last one.”

“Could he be any worse? And now that we know all about me, back to your guy with the handcuffs. Did you sleep with him?”

The heat of a solar flare touched Ellie’s cheeks. Forget the hotel…the entire
city
was in danger of this heat. “There were no handcuffs. And no, I did not sleep with him.” In the bright light of day, the idea seemed a little crazy. But last night, in the moment, she wouldn’t have said no to anything. And if he were standing in front of her, she had a feeling she still wouldn’t.

“Please tell me you are not
that
hopelessly boring.”

Ellie shook her head, despite the fact that her friend couldn’t see her. “No, he got called into work.”

“Are you going to sleep with him tonight?”

“Taylor! I don’t…even…
crap
.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t even get his number. He didn’t get mine. He didn’t ask.” All the happy-numbness fled her limbs, leaving dead weight behind. So much for that connection she thought they had.

“Well, you said he got called into work. Maybe he forgot?”

“Maybe.” A knock sounded at the door. She looked down and, finding her sleep shorts and tee shirt passable, peered through the peep hole at the same instant the knock repeated.

Startled, she jumped.

“Room service!” a voice called.

“Hang on a sec,” she told Taylor before opening the door. As she swung it open, she made a point of saying, “Room service is here. Isn’t he cute?” She briefly held up the phone so maybe the guy would think he’d been on camera, even though the camera wasn’t on. It was one of the many safety tips she’d learned before her trip. That made her think of Jax, and his random fact memorization problem.

The room service guy blushed.

“I didn’t order room service,” Ellie said.

“It’s a gift. There’s a note.” He lifted a card from the card and handed it over. “Where shall I set this up?”

“The table is fine.”

“What’s going on?” Taylor asked. “Who’s cute?”

Missing you already, Colorado.

The simple note, followed by a phone number, made her feel ridiculous inside. She absently reached for her purse to tip the guy, but he held up a hand. “It’s already taken care of.”

“Um, thank you?”

Room service guy let himself out, and she locked the door behind him.

“El-lie.”
Taylor’s voice ratcheted through the phone Ellie had nearly forgotten she held.

“He sent me breakfast,” she said, dazed. “Bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes
and
waffles, syrup, fresh fruit—”

“How many people does he think he’s feeding?”

“Hash browns, biscuits, croissants, jelly, coffee, tea, and juice.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he didn’t forget the juice,” Taylor said dryly. “Are you going to tell me about this guy or not? Other than those amazing eyes. Is his body as good as the eyes?”

“The body is definitely as good as the eyes.” Ellie picked up a piece of bacon and inhaled, wondering if vacation calories really didn’t count. “Like I said, he works security for the cover model. He caught me sneaking into the event last night and told me he couldn’t let me in without a ticket, but said if I’d go out with him he’d introduce me to the cover model.”

“I gotta tell you, El, he’s so hot that’s almost not creepy.”

“He’s absolutely not creepy. And I said if he let me see the cover model
first
then I’d go out with him. And not until.”

Taylor’s
tsk
whispered through the connection. “Maybe you’re not as boring as I thought you were.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Said with love, of course.”

“Of course. And he clearly wants you, so get busy. That’s totally permissible there. You know what they say about Vegas.”

“Good for Vegas.” Ellie sighed and gave in to the urge to eat the bacon.
Divine
. “I like him. I really do, and I’m not someone who can sleep with a guy and forget about him the next day.”

“Then don’t forget him. Have sex and have amazing memories. Or have lousy ones, but looking at him, I don’t think he’s capable of a bad thrust. Point is, no one in your real life will ever know the difference, and you really need to live a little.”

He definitely wasn’t capable of a bad thrust. The man was too gorgeous for that. “I can’t just…proposition him.”

“I’m pretty sure he just propositioned
you
by cleaning out the breakfast buffet in your honor. All you need to do is thank him. Profusely and in the nude.”

“Taylor!”

“Are you attracted to him?”

“Yes.”

“And reasonably sure he’s not a serial killer? Or a first-time offender in the making?”

Ellie laughed, mainly to hide her nerves. She was
so
getting talked into this. Perfect little her, who hadn’t had any sex at all until she was actual years into what she thought was a committed relationship, was actually considering a one night stand. More than considering, in fact. She was achy and hot over a man. And eating bacon.

The world had upended.

“Reasonably sure,” she croaked.

“Then go for it. Have some fabulous sex, then walk away. He could be the biggest jerk in the world—or first in line after your cheating ex, that is—and you’ll never know it.” Taylor’s voice softened. “You’ve been through a lot. Have something good for once. What have you got to lose?”

“My self-respect?”

Her friend snorted. “I think you gave that up when you tried to sneak in the back door of a black tie event.”

“Gee, thanks a lot.”

Taylor’s
pshaw
tore through the phone. “Get laid, Ellie. And don’t come back here until you do.”

When Taylor ended the call, the screen switched back to Jax and his bedroom eyes. Ellie had to admit she liked the idea of no-strings sex. She’d had it up to
there
with strings and expectations and emotional attachments.

Maybe Taylor was right.

Ellie swiped the screen. Her thumb hovered over contacts. Adding him seemed a little too permanent, so she opted for her texting app instead. She quickly tapped in the number left on the note, verified she’d gotten it right, and then composed a four-digit message.

Her room number.

Then she hit send.

…

Jax spent the remainder of the night sitting in front of Focker’s door, mostly counting dots on the carpet. That and checking his phone, despite knowing Ellie wouldn’t get his message until morning. By then, Jax would probably be unconscious. Focker had an event at eight, which meant Jax was taking a nap. Period. It also meant if Ellie messaged him, he wouldn’t see it until later. The urge to take a cold shower—or ten of them—and wait her out was strong, but if he was fortunate enough to see her later, he wanted to be alert enough to remember it.

As soon as Focker cut him loose, Jax headed to his room. He had a house in the desert, just a few miles off the strip, but staying close to Focker was part of the job. Jax’s room was on the same floor, just down the hall. He wondered how close Ellie was. If she thought about him. If she liked him, or if all that talk had been part of the moment…or the game.

Jesus, he was delirious. Either that or back in junior high.

He checked his messages, just in case. Managed to strip down to nothing and toss the duvet off the bed before collapsing.

And he totally forgot to set the alarm on his phone.

He figured that out when he cracked open his eyes to find rays of midafternoon sun piercing the windows. At least he remembered to plug the stupid thing in. After years of being on call for various clients, that particular habit died hard.

He grabbed the device from the bedside table. One message. A phone number he didn’t recognize. Followed by an equally unfamiliar four-digit number.

It’s her room number, you idiot
. Had to be. He grinned and tapped back a reply.

See you there in thirty?

Her reply was immediate.
I’ll be here
.

Here, not there. Which meant what? That she’d skipped out on the convention to wait in her room for him? The thought made him stupid-happy. He updated her contact in his phone—
Colorado
—and hit the shower.

Twenty-eight minutes later, he stood outside her room. Nervous. He knocked, and the door opened almost immediately.

He took her in. She stole his breath. Her tan suede boots had some kind of fur trim in the same off-white shade as her sweater. Her pants clung to every curve, and despite that, she managed to look as pure as the driven snow. And this time that prevailing urge to corrupt the hell out of her won.

“I forgot something last night,” he said as he stepped into her room. He didn’t give her a chance to ask what, just leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, as gently as he could despite the need that tore through him. He resisted the urge to put his hands on her. The brief foray of intimacy they’d shared the night before notwithstanding, he realized she might have second thoughts and didn’t want to make her feel trapped. Didn’t want to scare her in any way. Just…wanted.

She rested her palms flat on his chest, and for a minute he worried she’d shove him through the open door. He might have deserved as much, but before he could backpedal into an apology, she’d clutched fistfuls of his shirt and hauled him in. She’d surprised him, but by the time her mouth landed on his, he was on board. The tentative exploration of her tongue set him on fire. He roared inside. Devoured her. Tasted heaven.