Vegas Vacation (6 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

BOOK: Vegas Vacation
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Her phone rang again. “What now?” she sighed. “Hello, Dad.”

“Tammy, Garth and I are on the plane now. I'll need the second bedroom in your suite.”

“Martin's sleeping in it.” Her heart sank. She didn't want him coming out no matter how bad things were.

“Well, he won't be needed once I get there.” Her father's voice carried its normal no nonsense tone.

She pushed a hand through her hair. “Martin is perfectly capable of protecting me until I come home.”

“First name terms with a protection officer? Tammy, really—”

Tamlyn held the phone out to Martin before her father could launch into full blown tirade mode. “You tell him. He isn't listening to me.”

Martin took the phone. “Lord Bradshaw, this is Sgt. Ames. As I told you yesterday, I've been assigned by the Vegas PD to protect your daughter while she's in the US.”

Tamlyn drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa as Martin listened to her father speak; then shook her head as Martin moved the phone from his ear, the shouting audible from where she sat. She wanted to be with Martin, not with her father and Garth.

She caught her breath.
Be with Martin? Where did that come from?

At a brief lull, Martin resumed speaking. “She's never out of my sight...the restroom excepted. I promise you she will be safe. Of course, yes, Sir. Bye.”

Tamlyn looked at him as he closed the phone and passed it back to her. “Thanks.”

“He's concerned about you.”

Tamlyn pushed her hands through her hair. “No he isn't. If someone kidnaps me, he has to pay to get me back. Sometimes I think it'd be worth leaving home and sending him my own ransom note.”

She tilted her head at his contorted expression. “Is kidnapping yourself a crime?”

“Yes, it is. Leaving home isn't, but demanding money for your safe return is. Maybe we should move you out of the hotel and into my place, and I'll do the cooking.”

She shook her head. “No way. I saw your apartment when we collected your clothes on the way here yesterday. It's even messier than your desk or your car. And that's saying something.”

His gorgeous blue eyes darkened as he raised an eyebrow. “If I
decide
that moving you to a different hotel, or to my apartment is the safest thing to do, other than send you home, then that's what we'll do.”

Tamlyn glowered at him. “No one knows I'm here.”

Martin pointed a finger at her. “What about the guy in the blue suit you insist is following you everywhere?”

Tamlyn sighed. “That's what you're being paid for. I'm going to my bedroom. I may be some time.” She stood up and stormed into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and plonked down on the bed.

After crying for a while her gaze fell on the tickets on the side, for the show downstairs which Raleigh had paid for as a belated birthday present. She needed something to distract her. She'd go and watch the show in Raleigh's memory.

Pushing herself up, she slid some money and the room key into her jeans pocket and left the suite.

 

****

 

Tamlyn sat at a table, playing with her necklace. Around her, the female audience went wild. Images of Martin, his scars and cane filled her mind, and she felt guilty for sitting here watching. Why had she come? Martin was only looking out for her.

Like Raleigh. What if Raleigh had died in her place? What if someone wanted her dead and he'd gotten the drink meant for her?

She stood up and left the room, and went into the nearest bar. She sat on the bar stool and ordered a bottle of water.

How long did she have before Martin started searching for her? The drink came, and she raised the bottle in a salute. “For you, Raleigh.” She took a long drink.

Someone slid into the seat next to her. “Are you on your own tonight, darlin'? Where's your boyfriend?”

Tamlyn twisted her head to take in Blue Suit sitting next to her. “He'll be here.”

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't drink alone. Let me buy you a drink.”

Tamlyn shook her head. “No, thank you. I have one. And I have to be going.”

His long fingers turned the beer mat over and over. “I insist. It's just a drink, and we're two Brits alone in a foreign country…”

She sighed. Which part of no didn't he understand? Maybe if she had one, then he'd go away and leave her alone. “Another water, please.”

She drained the bottle of water and looked at the drink he handed her. She pushed the glass away. “That's not what I asked for.”

“You should drink it.” He gave it back to her.

She pushed upright. “No, I should be going.”

“I think you should stay.” He grabbed her hand.

 

****

 

Martin exited the elevator, his anger growing with each step. The tracker in her phone put her in the hotel bar; at least she had the sense not to leave the building. He crossed the bar in five rapid strides, taking in the scene in one glance, cane grasped tightly in his hand. “Tamlyn!”

He noted the guy in the ugly suit let go of her the instant he approached. Good. He didn't want to have to spend the night doing paperwork.

He slid his hand into Tamlyn's. “It's time to go.”

Willingly, Tamlyn walked with him to the elevators. Just as well, he didn't want to have this conversation with her in public. He pressed the call button and glanced at her. She didn't look at all sorry. Her hand burned against his and he had to call on every ounce of professionalism he had, not to let his emotions get in the way of his job.

Once in the elevator he let go of her. He stabbed the button for their floor and waited until the other occupants had left before speaking. “Is stupid your middle name? Or are you just incapable of following directions and
not leaving the room?

She scowled. “Not like I didn't tell you I was going. That bloke appeared, insisted on buying me a drink. I asked for water, which he didn't get me. I tried to leave, he stopped me and then you arrived. Nothing happened.”

“But it could have.” He walked her down the corridor to the suite and unlocked the door. “In you go.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “You're sending me to my room? I'm not six.”

“You're acting like it. And evidently I need to take action.” He tugged her through the door, locking it behind him. “I want your key card.”

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “But—”

Martin held out a hand. “Key. Now.”

Tamlyn jerked the card from her pocket and slammed it against his hand. “Here. Happy, now?” She turned away. “I didn't enjoy the show. I left. I was coming back.” Her voice was thick with tears.

“You shouldn't have gone in the first place.”

“You don't get it, do you?” She dropped to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. “He's dead, and it's my fault.” Tears fell thick and fast and her shoulders heaved.

He sighed and leaned against the wall, making no effort to comfort her. She needed to get the grief out of her system and the sooner the better.

Finally, her tears slowed and her head fell to one side. He gently picked her up, his anger spent. “How can I protect you if you won't let me?” He carried her to his room and, laying her on the bed, covered her with the comforter. He dragged a chair against the only door to the room and dropped onto it. At least here, he'd know where she was and she couldn't leave without him knowing it.

He pulled out his cellphone and dialed quickly. “Hey, Vance, it's me. Did you get a chance to run that name? Daniel Haynes? He's a Brit, staying at the Bellagio, room 2957. He's been hanging around and—”

Tamlyn's phone rang. “Hang on one minute. Need to take this one.” He pulled the handset from her purse. “Lady Bradshaw's phone. Sgt. Ames speaking.”

“This is Lord Bradshaw. Why have you got my daughter's phone?”

Martin spoke honestly. “She's sleeping.”

“Right, well, tell her we'll be with her by mid-morning. After that, your services will no longer be required.” The phone connection clicked off.

Martin closed his eyes. She was his responsibility until his chief told him otherwise. Did these people not get that?

It would be nice to get back to his normal routine.

Why did the thought of not seeing her anymore bother him? She didn't hide the fact she didn't want him around, but when he touched her, something shot through him. She affected him like no one had in a long time, but it was pointless dwelling on it.

Lady Bradshaw was way out of his league.

 

 

 

 

7

 

Tamlyn opened her eyes and shut them again with a groan. Memories of Blue Suit, and a very angry Martin filled her mind.

“Good morning. How are you?” Martin didn't sound angry this time.

She opened her eyes. “Feel like an idiot.”

“Good. Maybe you'll think twice before disobeying me next time.”

She glanced around. “This isn't my room.”

“No, it's mine. You cried yourself to sleep in the hallway last night, and since this room only has one door, I thought it best you sleep here. I dozed in the chair. I got you the English breakfast. Sit up.”

“Thank you.” She took the tray he handed her, her stomach gurgling at the smell of the fried food. He'd even ordered beans to go with it. She'd guess he only ordered pancakes for himself, though. She stabbed at the egg with a corner of the fried bread, sending the yellow yolk over the bacon. “Are you always this bossy?”

“When I have to be. I've got the toxicology report. Raleigh had food poisoning, but the cause of death was anaphylactic shock.”

Tamlyn paused eating mid-mouthful. “He's only allergic to nuts.”

Martin pulled the file over. “The levels in his blood were so high that he must have ingested a lot over several hours.”

“Like I said, the only thing he had since leaving England was bottled water. He should have several bottles left in here somewhere.”

Martin sat bolt upright, his brow creasing, then jumped to his feet. “That could be it.”

Tamlyn twisted to face him as he started to search the room. “You think someone spiked the water?”

“It's possible. I'll need to get it checked.”

She dipped the fried bread into the egg yolk. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Only spoiled heiresses who can't follow simple instructions.”

“How dare you call me that? You come here and say that.”

Martin smirked at her from the closet. “It's the truth. You aren't very nice at times. You speak and act before you think. The only person that matters is you.”


Excuse me
?”

“Take last night, for example. You storm out of here, do exactly what I told you not to do, and then go and get accosted in the bar.” He crossed the room, the packet of bottled water in his hand. “We all have to do things we don't like or want. Part of being an adult is doing it without complaint. Something you seem incapable of doing.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You're not sorry or you'd stop it.”

“Don't you presume to tell me what I mean,” she huffed.

Martin raised an eyebrow. “See, you're doing it again. This whole ‘I'm right, and everyone else is wrong' attitude you've got. OK, so you hate having a bodyguard. I expect the President does, too, but he most definitely
doesn't
complain about it in his online status.”

“How did you...?” She looked at him in shock. Sure, she'd complained bitterly several times online, but didn't think he'd ever find out.

His reply was blunt. “I have my ways. This will be a lot easier on both of us if you play ball and let me do my job.”

Tamlyn turned away, her face burning. Maybe he had a point. “OK.”

“Thank you.” He perched on the edge of the bed. “Tamlyn, you mentioned a couple of days ago about becoming a Christian. Does your faith mean anything, or is that simply lip service, too?”

She looked at him, the usual retort on her lips, but something in his eyes held her back from saying it. She looked down, lost for words. It was no concern of his, but she could hardly tell him that. Or acknowledge that he was right. “I…”

He nodded. “Thought as much. Once you're dressed, we'll go take this to the lab and get it analyzed, because this is now a murder investigation and you're officially in protective custody.”

“Thought I was, anyway,” she muttered. She finished the plate of food in silence. “You said we could go get more chips today. Or are you going to prevent me from doing that?”

Martin frowned. “What part of murder investigation do you not understand?”

Tamlyn scowled back. “But we'll be on the move. The whole world knows I'm in Vegas, remember? And which hotel…” She broke off as his scowl deepened. Backtracking fast, she tilted her head and studied him. “Besides, according to what Dad said, you're meant to be brilliant at your job and you did promise…I won't leave your side for an instant and I'll do what you tell me, when you tell me, and how you tell me.”

Martin did that cute rolling his eyes thing as she tossed his words back at him. “First I call the captain, and next, we go to the lab. Then, and only if the captain agrees not to charge you with murder, we'll go find some more chips for your collection.”

“Charge me with
what
?” she managed, horrified.

“You're the only person Raleigh had contact with here in the US before he got sick. You keep saying his death is your fault.”

For once, she didn't have a reply. “I'll go shower while you're on the phone.” She stood and grabbed one of the bottles of water from the packet. She checked the seal, opened it, and took a long mouthful.

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