Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (40 page)

The euphoria wore off once they stepped back into the casino, and all her mistakes came crashing down. It left her exhausted, and it presented the perfect excuse to end their date. “I hate to be a buzz kill, but I’m tired, and I think I should call it a night.”

His disappointment was clear on his face, but he graciously accepted her bowing out. “In that case, I’ll have to do the same. I have tickets to another show tomorrow evening, if you’d care to join me. We can have dinner first, as well.”

Was he asking her out again? She should reject the invitation, but she couldn’t. Tanya needed to learn more about Brock and his schedule, and she also wanted another chance to take him up to that glorious room he’d given her. She would simply have to spend the day tomorrow observing and hope she made some discovery that would lead to a break in the case. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

Chapter 7

Anger rose inside Brock’s chest as the elevator door closed and Tanya headed up to the penthouse alone. He couldn’t explain it, and he didn’t like it, but he couldn’t swallow it just yet.

And he couldn’t get the taste of her out of his mouth.

She was absolutely divine from head to toe, inside and out, and he didn’t want to obsess over her. He stormed into the casino, his eyes darting from table to table, looking for a pretty girl to take back to his personal suite that would wipe his memory of Tanya, but no one matched her beauty, and he doubted anyone could intrigue him to the same degree.

Knowing he couldn’t count on his charm right now as he faced emotional wreckage he didn’t understand, Brock turned on his earpiece and spoke into it. “I’m headed to the clubhouse, boys. I need to cool off for a while. Keep your eyes out for good business.”

Without waiting for a response or any joking, he turned it right back off and stalked toward the offices, straight down the long corridor, and out the back. There, he lit the ritual cigarette he smoked when he left the casino every night and strolled under the darkness of the building’s shadow toward his bike. His leather vest didn’t look right with his pristine white shirt, so he shed the collared shirt and donned the vest by itself.

With no one around, he also slipped out of the dress pants, stuffed them in the saddle bag with his shoes, and tugged on his jeans and Harley boots. It put a smile on his face, and he let the perfect posture slip, his shoulders rolling forward as he threw his leg over the machine and brought it to life. Sighing, he rolled out of the parking space and headed to the Cobra clubhouse, just a few blocks off the Strip.

It was a short ride, but the air had cooled since sundown, the heat of the day no longer making the oppressive humidity overwhelming, and it blew some of the anger out of Brock. The clubhouse had taken over an old downtown storefront on the corner of Fremont and Bruce, near the 7-11. Anyone driving by would think it was a dive bar or a biker bar. Both would fairly accurately describe the atmosphere, but no one really wanted to stop in and see what it was all about, considering the nature of the occupants. The Cobras weren’t exactly a mean crew, but they were private and didn’t like strangers waltzing in uninvited.

On a Friday night, Brock found most of the guys who weren’t on the job hanging around, drinking, smoking, and playing cards or pool. A game of darts in the back had four guys laughing, and Brock strolled in, trying to decide where to park himself. Only a few dim overhead lights and some neon bar signs lit the place, creating a dingy atmosphere in a building already in desperate need of updates. But the Cobras liked other creature comforts, so renovating their home base didn’t make the top of the priority list.

Their income from interest on loans paid for things like upgrades to their bikes, guns, booze, and women. Eventually, some of their savings might buy new floors and plumbing for the clubhouse, or maybe new tables to replace the shabby, rickety ones they had now. Maybe they’d put in a countertop at the bar that didn’t have scars and stains. For now, everything worked well enough, and they were more than content.

He didn’t feel like getting into a game of any kind. He was poor company when he was this disgruntled, and he wouldn’t handle loss well. He wasn’t good enough at any of the games going on, and working the casino had taught him a lot about how mood affected the odds for a person.

He would lose his ass, so Brock opted for the bar. He took a stool – the old vinyl cover cracked and torn in several places – and waited until Chase made his way over. Chase was a prospect, but he was coming up fast. He had a wild side and didn’t like rules, but that was a typical story for most of the recruits who had come into the Cobra brotherhood.

“What’s up, boss?” Chase asked, hurrying over to him. The Cobras chose not to have a club president, but Brock stood in a similar position, controlling the board of tenured members and making the moves they voted into play. And when something had to be determined on the fly, Brock made the executive decision.

Brock grunted and shook his head. “You have a woman, Chase?”

The kid laughed jovially. “Hell, no, boss. Where I come from, no woman wants to get dragged into. And now, I don’t have time for a girl. I’m busy all the time with club stuff.” He tilted his head and frowned. “Why? Are you thinking about taking on an old lady?”

Brock shivered. That wasn’t even a possibility, and the thought made him cringe. “Don’t insult me, boy. I don’t need an old lady. I’ve got plenty of tail whenever I want, and I don’t even have to chase it. Keep working like you are, get patched, and you’ll be able to do the same. I’ll set you up with a job at the hotel.”

“I’m dedicated,” Chase assured him. “So, what’s on your mind? I’m not the wise bartender with all the advice but I do have an open ear. I can take a verbal beating if you need to unleash.”

That was a rare quality, but Brock didn’t even know what to say. If he couldn’t define the reason for his anger and irritation, how could he reiterate it to someone else? “It’s just women, kid. Sometimes, even when you know it’s a bad idea, you do something stupid.” Like get obsessed over a woman who walks in and out of your life when you’re more of a one-night stand kind of guy.

Chase shrugged. “I get it. But that’s when liquor comes in handy. You drown the voice in your head that pushes you to do something stupid, and even if you have a mean son of a bitch pounding a jackhammer at your head in the morning, it distracts you, and you go back to business as usual.”

Brock gave him a look of consideration as he processed the response. “I thought you said you weren’t wise. That was a pretty insightful piece of advice.”

“Not really,” Chase laughed. “It just happens to be a really bad solution that I’ve used too many times for different problems.” He poured two shots of whiskey, passing one to Brock and taking the other for himself. Holding it in the air, he said, “To women, male hormones, and the booze that cures both.”

Laughing out loud – something Brock rarely did – he touched his shot glass to Chase’s and downed the cheap brew, wincing at the way it burned going down. “Cheers,” he coughed. A couple more of those, and he might actually wash away the thought of how good it felt to be inside Tanya Fowler.

***

“Something’s strange about your big winner,” Sam said as he took a seat next to Brock. After four shots of whiskey, he’d switched to beer and nursed a longneck. His thoughts were a little hazy, but he wasn’t drunk, only comfortable and very relaxed. He scowled at Sam, one of his men who had a lot of technical knowledge and could recover information buried deeper than most people ever looked. But the Cobras, who evaded notice and had a lot of control over the Vegas Strip, needed as much knowledge as they could get on anyone they dealt with to protect their interests.

“What could possibly be strange about her?” Brock asked, not wanting to bother with this business now that he had managed to get the woman out of his head.

Sam sighed. “Dalton said you wanted to dig further into her past, so I’ve been working on it. Everything checks out, and there’s nothing that raises any flags, anywhere in her history.”

“So, what’s wrong with that?” Brock asked, exasperated. Why would Sam specifically come to him at the clubhouse with this sort of information? It didn’t make any sense. “If you’re saying that a woman in Vegas alone shouldn’t have a squeaky clean record, I agree. And if you’re concerned because she happened to hit the big one, I also agree. But it’s a fluke. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve seen a couple of crazy things in my time. We were just due for a surprise.” He wasn’t suspicious of anything, and he couldn’t imagine what Sam might be worrying about.

“You’re not getting it,” Sam said, obviously beguiled. Now, Brock was intrigued, and he sat a little straighter, waiting for Sam to explain. “So, like I said, not a speck on the record. But the record doesn’t have much history.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brock snapped, impatient now. He wanted to be left alone, like he had been for the last couple of hours, and Sam was dragging this out far longer than he needed to. “Just spit it out, man.”

Sam, who was around ten years Brock’s senior, gave him a warning look. Sam didn’t have the leadership skills needed to take over the club, but he held a lot of respect. Brock clamped his mouth shut, backing off, and Sam told him, “It’s too perfect. It reads like a fairytale with tragedy and triumph, and everything is shallow. Look, she went to Odessa Permian High School, right? Why can’t I find her in the yearbook?”

“Have you checked to see if she graduated early or late?” Brock challenged.

“I’ve checked and double checked every possibility. But there’s nothing there. There isn’t even a space without a picture like she missed class photos. And I can’t find any record of her parents at all. I mean, they exist on paper, but they’re two-dimensional. It’s like they were purposely created to match up to her story.”

Okay, that might be a reason for concern, but not the type of worry Sam seemed to have. “Did you stop to think she might be hiding from someone? If she is an heiress, I’m sure there are plenty of people ready to hunt her down. Maybe there’s a family secret to blackmail her with she’s trying to hide.”

“I guess that’s possible,” he conceded. “But it’s more likely she came to Vegas, knowing she was going to draw attention and didn’t want anyone to know who she really was.”

“You’re paranoid,” Brock chuckled, lighting another rare cigarette. “No one comes into a casino and goes straight to a Roulette table planning to win the big one.”

“You’re right,” Sam agreed with a nod. “But maybe winning wasn’t the idea. Maybe she planned to lose.”

He let that information roll over him, a little too fuzzy to process it instantly. He wanted to make a call, but he needed to be certain of what Sam was trying to point out. He gave the guy a blank look, and Sam sighed. “Someone with inside information who wanted to bust our operation would want to lose on purpose so that, hopefully, we’d offer the same way out of debt we always do. That way, she’d have the evidence she needed.”

Brock was instantly sober. He caught the insinuation, and it set off every alarm he had. It couldn’t be true, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility, either. Clenching his jaw, he told Sam, “Find out. Now.”

Chapter 8

Try as she might, Tanya failed to find what she needed to solidify her resolve. Nothing corroborated the claims so far. She’d watched four people on major losing streaks led away from their tables, followed them out the front door, and subsequently lost them.

It frustrated her to no end, but at least she didn’t have to come down on Brock yet. She’d sat in the casino all day, playing slots with chump change and sitting at machines without playing until she started to look suspicious. She’d sat at the bar with Diet Cokes, eaten snack food, and wandered around like she was looking for the next place to find a million. But nothing seemed to work. She was stymied at every turn.

Eventually, she placed herself with a prime view of the door to the offices, hoping to see one of the people who’d been targeted come out. It would secure her suspicion and finally be something she could report back to her higher-ups. But after three hours, her legs grew numb, and she couldn’t sit still any longer.

It was late, and Tanya had to meet Brock in an hour at the front lobby. Heaving a sigh, she got to her feet and stalked toward the elevator to the penthouse. She fumbled the code the first time but got it the second, and it carried her up. Inside, she stripped off the little black dress she’d worn all day and tossed the heels across the room. She stepped into the closet and retrieved a green sundress that at least fit more comfortably than the formalwear she’d had on for the last two days.

She paired it with golden wedge sandals and added a touch more makeup to accommodate the nightlife before approving of her look in the mirror. She spritzed on her perfume and told herself it had nothing to do with attracting Brock. She didn’t need him. And if he wanted her, he’d take her without the added enticing aroma.

Ready to go, Tanya got back on the elevator and headed down, wondering where exactly Brock planned to take her tonight. It didn’t really matter – the end goal didn’t change. She wanted to bring him back to her room and go for another round, even if it meant future regret.

She waited in the lobby, taking in the brilliant glow of the golden chandeliers overhead and the deep browns of the leather and velvet couches and ottomans. Opulence surrounded her, and she couldn’t equate the need for an under the table business to supplement the income a casino manager must draw. And while Brock was cocky, and she could tell he liked having the best of everything, she couldn’t see him as the greedy type. Even if he was involved in these claims of loan sharking, he wouldn’t work alone. And she doubted he’d started it.

The question was, how many people were involved? Did the guards leading these people to the loan sharks know what they were doing? Did they profit from scouting? If so, that already added a throng of people to the list of conspirators. She’d taken down as many names as she could and planned to call her internal partner to have each of them researched.

Now, though, Brock caught her eye as he strolled in, casually glancing around until his gaze landed on her, and a smile spread slowly across his face. He turned in her direction, and Tanya sighed like some lady in a classic romance movie. This attraction she had to him was ridiculous. She was a strong, independent woman with a blooming career – assuming she broke this case – and she didn’t need a man. She didn’t have time for one. But suddenly, she had a weak spot for Brock, and she found herself thinking about making love every night and waking up in his arms every morning.

Which would be entirely impossible, if he went to jail for an illegal side business.

He stopped a foot in front of her and reached for her hand, but instead of bringing it to his lips, he used it to pull her against him with a flourish. She giggled until his mouth crashed down on hers, and then grew serious as her blood boiled. When he released her, Tanya put her hand to her chest, feeling her throbbing heartbeat and trying to recover a modicum of composure.

“Well, that was quite a greeting,” she told him. “But if we keep going down this road, it’s not dinner I’ll be hungry for.”

Brock chuckled mischievously. “I don’t think that would be such a bad thing. Do you?” He leaned in closer. “To be honest, I’m starving for something sweet and tart, and I know exactly where to get it. And how.” His eyes darted downward, indicating exactly what he meant.

Tanya blushed. She quipped, “Let me at least pretend to be a lady.”

He gave her a strange scowl, some other emotion hidden behind the mask, and she wondered what that was about as he shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend, Tanya. You are very much a lady, and I am interested in more than the package. I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend to be anything you’re not. I want complete honesty, want to know every little detail that you haven’t shared with anyone else.” He put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “Like the tiny little freckle on the inside of your left thigh.”

Something about that statement made her shiver, and Tanya didn’t know what to think. It struck a little close to home, but it also sounded like a genuine sentiment from a man who might actually be interested. Or at least looking to find a way to get back the millions his casino lost.

“I can roll with that,” she said playfully. “Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going tonight, or am I supposed to guess?”

He pretended to think hard about it, scratching his chin. And then he said, “I think we should have dinner first, and then I’ll decide. How does that sound?”

Something seemed different tonight, and though Tanya knew she was likely paranoid, her nerves wouldn’t settle. She still smiled at Brock and told him, “I guess I’m at your mercy.” But it felt too true, like she’d named her own fate.

He held out his elbow, and she took it, setting her concerns aside. Anyone under her circumstances would have doubts. If she blew her cover, it didn’t just mean she blew the case. Even dealing with civilized criminals could put her in danger, and Tanya hadn’t done this before. She was definitely susceptible to the fear others had warned her tended to pop up in an undercover operation.

She hadn’t expected him to lead her out of the hotel and casino, but he strolled down the street past three other large establishments into one of the largest and most famous on the Vegas Strip. She glanced around in awe of the place but said nothing. He led her into what had to be an incredibly expensive restaurant, ordering the most unbelievably delicious seafood – especially considering it had to be flown in fresh every day.

They talked, the conversation mostly keeping to food and fun restaurant stories, and Tanya settled down. This was more like the Brock she’d met last night, and she realized she hadn’t exactly acted like herself before, either, blinded by winning so much money and meeting a man who could turn her legs to gelatin with his smile. She could very well have deified him without knowing it, and now, she had to come down to earth.

And still, he was charming and kind and attentive, and he was absolutely sexy. She had no complaints, and after a day full of failed attempts to find any evidence, Tanya thought about throwing in the towel. She knew there were plenty of assignments like this one that lasted months and even years, trying to uncover drug trafficking, mob circles, and other activities. But this was technically just high interest lending. The solicitation of patrons – and cheating to cause such losses – would be illegal, but the truth was, the people who had reported the ‘crime’ were given the choice of taking the loan or not.

None of them expressed feeling threatened, only slightly pressured, and they hadn’t been openly harassed or presented with consequences such as death or dismemberment for not paying on time. While Tanya didn’t like the idea of preying on people, she had little sympathy for those who gambled away money they couldn’t afford to lose. She’d taken this assignment, feeling it would be an easy way to get something big under her belt and prove herself so she could earn her promotion.

But she knew very well that her own opinions from the beginning compromised her drive to succeed. And now that she knew Brock, she couldn’t believe he would run such an operation. If the casino and hotel – and its employees – could be cleared of suspicion, there was nothing more for Tanya to investigate. Loan sharks could go about their business, as long as there was no violence involved.

“You’re awfully pensive tonight,” Brock mused, pulling her out of her thought process and back to the moment. They were still in the famous hotel, and he led her somewhere towards the back of the casino. She hoped he hadn’t already told her where they headed because if so, she missed it.

Clearing her throat and trying to come out of the haze of deep thought, she gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a hard time taking in everything that’s happened since I got here. It’s all so much to wrap my head around.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to be so difficult for you,” he said with a teasing lilt. “It’s not like you haven’t come into a large sum of money before. Or was your grandfather’s oil money mostly spent out?”

Tanya was briefly confused, but then she remembered the story of her inheritance. She forced a short laugh and flushed, chiding herself for her careless lack of attention. She couldn’t forget a single detail if she wanted to keep up appearances. “It’s a little different, don’t you think?” He seemed very nosy all of a sudden, too, practically asking how much she’d gotten in the deal. Who asked that when they barely knew you?

“How so?” he asked, and his tone bothered her. Up till now, Brock had been curious and inquisitive. Now, he sounded challenging and suspicious. What had changed?

Keeping her cool, Tanya shrugged. “I knew for years I would get my grandfather’s fortune. I had time to prepare myself to have that kind of money, and I just wish I’d been smart and used the time to figure out how I was going to deal with it. But I always heard you shouldn’t come to Vegas expecting to win, so I figured I would get here and lose. Winning that much cash in one single moment isn’t something anyone expects.”

Brock stopped walking and stared at her, his expression a mask of stoicism. Tanya wished she could read him better, but she didn’t know him that well. Her only other clue was the growing tension in his shoulders. “So, you came here to lose?”

“No!” Oh, God, did he know? Had she slipped somewhere, or had the team failed to make her background bulletproof? “I didn’t mean to lose, either. I just…I came without expectations, just for the adrenaline rush of not knowing if I would win or lose.”

“You said you came because you were bored. You needed a vacation. Now, you wanted the adrenaline rush. Tanya, people get that rush from Blackjack or slot machines. Roulette is a game you play because you’re drunk, or a dreamer, or because you want to lose. If you wanted to play for fun, why did you go straight to the Roulette wheel?”

She didn’t have a good answer. She had the answer she knew he expected, the one that would break her cover, but she wasn’t ready to give up. Thinking fast about the persona she’d created for this job, she said, “Everything I’ve done since I got that inheritance has been about strategy and considering possible outcomes. And almost every decision I’ve made has been safe and successful. If there’s been any gamble involved, I’ve won because I consulted an expert or did my research. I wanted all of that taken away. I wanted to do something that I had absolutely no control over.”

She was breathing hard, and somehow, she’d grown impassioned about her explanation. She glared at Brock, daring him to challenge her, but he didn’t move or speak. And then out of nowhere, he smiled and laughed. “You and I are a lot alike. When we need to break out of the mold, we take drastic measures.” He leaned in and planted a definitive kiss on her lips. “Come on, let’s go in.” He pointed to the double doors behind him, and Tanya realized which show they were attending. Floored and relieved, she eagerly took his hand and practically skipped with him into the enormous auditorium.