Hot Number (3 page)

As she stumbled along, trying to keep her
balance, she belatedly realized that she should have left her drink
back at the roulette table. She did not need another accident—or
more alcohol, for that matter.

Spotting a casino waitress serving drinks at
a nearby Pai Gow poker table, Sadie pivoted to head in that
direction. The last thing she felt before becoming airborne was a
small tug on her spike heel as it caught in the carpet. Then she
crashed head first into the poker table. Her drink sailed out of
her hand as she landed heavily onto the hard surface.

She didn’t move right away, so dazed she
barely realized what had happened.

A shocked female screech blasted out from
somewhere behind her. “What the hell?”

“Holy shit, lady!” another voice lashed out.
“You just screwed the best hand I had all night!”

Sadie’s stomach gave a sickening lurch at the
man’s nasty tone. With her face buried in a pile of chips and her
butt sticking up in the air, she was too stunned to fully
comprehend the profanity-laced invective hurled her way. While
nothing felt broken except her pride, her thighs throbbed where
they’d made a bruising impact with the edge of the table.

She groaned, not just with the blossoming
pain but with the humiliating realization that she’d made an ass of
herself again. If only a chandelier would land on her head and
knock her senseless, she would be happy. But no such luck. She knew
she had to get up and apologize to…well, to everyone in sight.
Maybe to the whole damn world.

Wedging her hands underneath her chest, she
began to push herself up when a pair of very big, very strong hands
clamped around her hips and lifted her backward off the table.
Those same hands then set her carefully on her feet. She shoved the
hair out of her eyes and gave a horrified squeak at what lay before
her. The table was a disaster, with cards and chips flung
haphazardly. Her drink had smashed, scattering booze, ice cubes and
shards of glass over the chip tray and onto the poor dealer.
Brushing himself off, the young man glared at her with undisguised
contempt.

Upright now, Sadie carefully turned around to
thank whoever it was who had helped her off the table.

She must have looked like a wide-mouth bass
as her gaze met the obsidian eyes of Mr. Scary Security Man.
Stomach lurching—this time all the way into her throat—she had to
bite her lip to keep from letting out a groan of dismay.

“Are you all right?” he asked through
clenched teeth.

His deep voice, as dark and menacing as the
rest of him, shot a ripple of anxiety along her already over-taxed
nerves. She had just enough of her wits left to notice him scanning
her body from head to foot.

Dropping her gaze to the floor, she struggled
to compose a dignified reply. Then she dredged up a smile and
forced herself to look at him.

“It would seem so, thank you. I suspect I’ll
be rather sore tomorrow, but apparently no lasting harm has been
done.” She glanced back at the chaos she’d left in her wake.
Players were collecting their chips and leaving the table in a
huff. “Other than possibly ruining the surface of a card table and
destroying some winning hands. But I suppose I shouldn’t minimize
that.”

She tried to straighten out her rumpled
shirt, noticing how his eyes followed her hands as she smoothed the
fabric over the top of her jeans.

“Ma’am, I’m with casino security,” he said in
a calm voice. “Please come with me.”

Without waiting for her reply, he grasped her
wrist in one of his big hands. His touch was firm but not harsh,
and Sadie felt a surprising and unfamiliar jolt as warm fingers
closed around her bare skin. Not fear. This was something...well,
she didn’t know what it was, but it still made her nervous.

Now that she’d declared her lack of injury,
his eyes had reverted back to chips of black ice. She caught
herself wondering what they might look like if something lit them
and turned them to burning embers. He’d probably resemble Lucifer
himself.

“I simply tripped, for heaven’s sake.” Sadie
shook out of his grip, wincing at the shrill tone to her voice. But
she didn’t want to spend a second more with this man than she had
to.

His mouth thinned into a brutal line. “I
can’t detain you, ma’am, but I
can
remove you from the
Desert Oasis Casino. Not just for tonight, but permanently. You
might prefer the option of talking to me for a few minutes.”

Cassie rushed up to her, breathless. “Sadie,
are you okay? I heard the crash, but I didn’t know it was you till
one of the waitresses told me.”

She gave Cassie a shaky smile. “I’ll live.
Just a pair of bruised thighs and a whole lot of bruised
pride.”

The security man began to look both annoyed
and impatient. “Ma’am, please. Come with me.”

Darn it. There was obviously no point in
arguing with the pig-headed brute. Better to get it over with than
cause yet another scene.

“All right, Sheriff, lead on,” she replied,
ladling on the sarcasm. “Do your worst. I’m ready.”

He shot her a look of sheer disdain and waved
her in front of him.

“Hey, wait a minute! Just where do you think
you’re taking her?” Cassie demanded. “Who the hell are you to treat
my friend like that?”

“Casino security, ma’am. I’m simply taking
her for questioning. It shouldn’t take too long. But the longer we
stand here, the longer it’ll be.”

Cassie planted her feet like a prizefighter,
ready to deck him if need be. “I’m going with her. I’m not letting
her go off with you alone.”

The security man fixed Cassie with the
coldest stare Sadie had ever seen and, sure enough, her friend
bristled with outrage. She had to get the situation under control
before Cassie wound up getting herself in big trouble, too. “It’s
okay, Cass. I can handle this. I’ll catch up to you as soon as the
law here is done with me.”

The big man switched his glare to her and
then gave a sharp nod. “As I said, follow me.” He turned and strode
off at a rapid pace.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she burst out,
exasperated by his mental density. “Sheriff, it appears necessary
to remind you that I’ve been having a certain degree of difficulty
with this footwear. I really could use some assistance. Or would
you prefer to have to hoist me off a card table again?”

The man stopped and turned as gracefully as a
panther. A big, terrifying panther. Cassie was right—the brute was
undeniably handsome, in a dark, rugged, and altogether intimidating
way.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely
apologetic. “You’re right. I should have thought about that. Here,
ma’am, take my arm.”

Sadie almost fell over, yet again. Where had
that gentlemanly behavior suddenly come from? Cautiously slipping
her hand into the crook of his arm, she encountered an impressively
hard set of arm muscles. They flexed beneath her fingers and her
edgy feeling returned. This time down low in her belly and between
her thighs.

As he led her away, Sadie couldn’t help but
wonder what kind of trouble she’d stumbled into this time.

“How much alcohol have you consumed this
evening, ma’am?”

Finally, the sheriff—and that was the only
way Sadie could think of him—was talking again. He’d remained
silent since asking her to take his arm. Not a word had passed his
lips during their interminable passage through the sprawling
casino, nor during their ride down an elevator into some
subterranean gulag of concrete block walls. He’d ushered her into a
ten-by-ten room that could have passed for a jail cell. After
directing her to sit, he began his interrogation without any
concession to making her the slightest bit comfortable.

And she couldn’t have felt any more
uncomfortable if she’d tried. The windowless, beige room contained
only a small desk and an armless metal chair that now dug into the
backs of her thighs. It reminded her of a set from a 1950’s movie,
a place where Broderick Crawford would bring some bad guy to sweat
out a confession. A room designed to intimidate. She half-expected
to see the sheriff pull out a set of brass knuckles from the desk
drawer, and the fact that he remained standing, looming over her,
didn’t help matters.

Straightening her spine against the cold
metal back of the chair, Sadie resolved not to let her nerves show.
Not if she could help it. If she looked intimidated, she’d
be
intimidated. That was how these guys worked. She’d seen
enough TV to figure that out. Besides, she’d done nothing wrong.
Sure, she’d committed multiple acts of gross clumsiness, but the
last time she looked that wasn’t a felony.

Deciding to deflect his rather rude question
about her drinking habits, she ordered up the sweetest smile she
could manage under the circumstances. “Wouldn’t it be more
appropriate, not to mention polite, sir, to introduce ourselves
first?”

That hard mouth of his thinned again. “Trust
me, ma’am. I wasn’t about to let you out of here without getting
your name.” He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket
and pulled a card from a black leather case. She noticed he had
long, well-shaped fingers and a deeply tanned hand.

“Here’s my card.”

Sadie took it gingerly.
Nick Saxon,
Assistant Chief of Security, Desert Oasis Hotel and Casino.

“Saxon. How appropriate,” she huffed,
thinking he did look something like a marauding invader. “My name
is Sadie Bligh, but I can’t say I’m pleased to make your
acquaintance, Mr. Saxon. Isn’t it rather high-handed to whisk one
of your patrons off to this gulag under threat of permanent
expulsion?”

His stare riveted her again. He seemed to
regard her as if she were an alien. Still, she thought she detected
the tiniest bit of softening around the edges of his mouth. That
was probably as close to a smile as the man could manage.

“Not at all,” he replied. “It’s hotel and
casino policy. Whenever a guest shows signs of excessive drinking
and causes a disturbance, he or she is subject to questioning. You
may refuse, of course, but the casino reserves the right to suspend
or permanently remove your privilege of admission. It’s your
choice.”

She was about to give him a piece of her mind
when she noticed his gaze drop briefly down to her chest. Twice
she’d caught his attention drifting there, as if he were having
trouble staying focused on her face. Both times, she’d been shocked
and mortified to feel her nipples hardening in response. Surely it
must be the icy cold breeze of the air conditioning? Her body
couldn’t possibly be reacting that way to the gruff sheriff. Though
undeniably handsome, Saxon was treating her like a criminal. She
could never be attracted to someone like him.

“Are you a guest at the hotel…” he glanced at
her left hand, “…Ms. Bligh?”

“Yes, my friend and I checked in early this
afternoon. And I was having a rather enjoyable time—until you came
along, that is.”

He towered over her, of course. With his arms
crossed over his broad chest and his legs parted in an
uber-masculine stance, he was the living definition of an immovable
object. No doubt he’d learned such an aggressive posture as part of
the intimidation module at security school.

“Ms. Bligh, I’d appreciate it if you’d answer
my first question,” he growled.

“Oh. That would be your preoccupation with my
alcohol consumption.” She forced a smile. “Fair enough, though
frankly I don’t see its relevance. My little contretemps at the Pai
Gow table was clearly occasioned by ridiculously inappropriate
footwear, not an excess of alcoholic beverages.”

Saxon actually started to smile before
quickly catching himself. Sadie felt a small sense of triumph.
Round one to the professor
. Who knew babbling could be such
an effective defense?

“Maybe, but there was more than one
contretemps, as you put it. I witnessed three separate incidents
myself in a very brief period of time. Are you telling me they were
all caused by your shoes? That alcohol had absolutely no part in
them?”

In all fairness, she couldn’t blame him for
being skeptical. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would have
gone back to her room and chucked the silly boots after the first
stumble. But by then the champagne and the mojitos had blunted her
self-preservation instincts. Besides, Cassie had been adamant about
the boots. They were supposed to be man-magnets. Instead, they were
likely to get her tossed out of the casino on her rear.

“I won’t deny that I did consume a few of
your casino’s pineapple mojitos. They’re quite lovely, by the way.
But I assure you I was entirely compos mentis when I sinned.” She
tried on what she hoped was a sexy little pout. “Really, Sheriff,
don’t you think the mortification I suffered with my derrière
pointing skyward in front of a roomful of spectators was punishment
enough for any faux pas on my part?”

That did it. First his eyes gave way, then
his lips as they slowly curved into a lopsided grin. Just like
that, his dark, menacing face was transformed, and a jolt of
pleasure zinged along Sadie’s nerves. She could suddenly imagine an
alternate Saxon persona—one very different from the
hard-as-granite, badass security man.
Round two to the
professor
.

Sadie returned his smile.

In a blink, Saxon wiped the grin off his
face. “You have a point. I’ll admit that public humiliation does
seem like a significant punishment. But it’s your future behavior
I’m concerned about, too. If you’re going to continue to patronize
our casino, Ms. Bligh, you can’t be crashing around like the
steelie in a pinball machine. You caused considerable damage out
there tonight. For starters, you’ll be getting a bill for
refurbishing the Pai Gow table, and that won’t come cheap.”

His eyes were practically drilling through
her head, but she held his gaze as he continued his lecture. “But
aside from those costs, it’s the effect on the other guests that
concerns us the most. The casino business is very competitive. We
can’t afford to lose clients to other hotels where they don’t have
to worry about some inebriated woman taking a header on top of
them.”