Vice (11 page)

Liam moved about the bedroom area, muttering something about making sure the room was set up as he’d requested. She’d heard him order all kinds of extras over the phone, ones she could never hope to afford: free movies on demand, large toiletry bottles instead of those puny sample sizes, and a full-sized fridge stocked with everything from vintage wines to exotic fruits she’d only ever glimpsed at the market. For all she knew, he might have tucked a Lamborghini under the bed.

She touched the soft duvet cover, checked out the label and gasped at the astronomical thread count. “This is too much.”

He walked over and pried the duvet edge out of her fingers. “You’ve had a shitty time. Just relax for a few days. Is it such a sin?”

“Ha. That could be the new slogan for Vice.”

“You’re right. Want a job on my marketing team?” His confident bad boy grin was back and put a wobble in her belly.

“Look, I know you’re doing this to bribe me.” She caught the look on his face and rephrased. “I don’t mean bribe… I mean by getting me into your casino, you’ll convince me it’s not such a bad place after all, and I’ll give up my protest.”

“You already gave it up.”

“I can always start it again, any time I want. I can bring you to your knees, big boy.” She’d meant it as a joke, but as they stared at each other, the air grew heavy between them.

“Woman, I know you can.”

His words made her want to tumble into that fluffy, red bed with him and not tumble out again for a few days. She didn’t know what to say to lift the sexual tension, so she voiced the other thought plaguing her. “Do you always rescue damsels in distress?”

“Just redheaded singers who hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate you, Liam. In fact…”

He moved closer, making her all too aware of his size and shape and smell, all the things that made him attractive to her. Her pulse leaped and her breaths grew shallow.

“In fact, what?” His voice, so deep and quiet, coaxed a flutter of strange delight inside her.

“Just this.” She put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her toes. Leaning into him, she dropped a chaste kiss onto his cheek. His stubble tickled her lips and she couldn’t help the resulting fantasies that raced through her brain. She couldn’t help wanting to experience the tender abrasion of his stubble on her pussy lips again.

Shocked at her thoughts and actions, she pulled away. But Liam put a hand to her back and held her firm. He wound his arms around her and cradled her head with his other hand and lowered his head. Her heart beat out of her chest, and before she knew it, she’d closed her eyes in anticipation.

A crush of sensation hit her as their mouths met. His kiss was gentle as he brushed his lips against hers. Sweet, sliding simplicity, as natural as embracing an old friend. But then his fingers curled against her body and his lips parted. His tongue darted out, and she took it in.

His hunger drove him deeper and he flicked at the inside of her mouth. Sucking her tongue, he made low, growling noises and his every touch screamed of want and fire and impatience. The kiss became one to annihilate all others from her memory.

“Dammit,” he finally whispered as he snatched a breath.

Any coherent thoughts she’d had turned into a silly muddle of sex-saturated imagery. Her body, entwined with his. Pounding, driving motion that carried her to the highest heights. Finishing what they’d started earlier.

In that moment, she remembered where she was. In his casino. A place she wanted to destroy. And yet she’d agreed to stay, because she was weak and hadn’t been laid in so long.

This was wrong. All of it. She had to forget it, and keep her distance from him.

He stared at her, blinked a few times, and seemed to glean her reticence. She wanted him, she knew it like she knew her own voice, but each interaction only succeeded in making her feel more guilty. And she’d lived with guilt her whole life. Could they do this? Could someone like her actually take someone like him to bed and not wake up ashamed?

Damn, she sure as hell wanted to try.

But with everything that had happened that evening, neither of them seemed ready to take the plunge again. As if to confirm her suspicions, he removed his hands from her body and smiled at her. No longer a happy-go-lucky sort of smile. His expression had darkened with confident sensuality.

“Get some sleep. It’s been a long night.” He reached into his pocket and pressed a business card into her hand, taking time to stroke her palm. “This is my direct contact information. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you.”

He walked to the door in the outer room. As he put his hand on the doorknob, he turned and gave that take-no-prisoners grin once more. “Enjoy the suite while you can. You’ll trade it in for my bed soon enough.”

“Uh, that won’t happen.”

“Oh, it will and you know it. Enjoy your stay, sugar.”

She watched him stride out of the room, unable to say anything that would make him understand why they couldn’t. Before the door closed behind him, she saw him speak to the security guard posted outside.

Riddled with tension, Kate flopped onto her luxurious bed, rolled down the covers and kicked off her shorts and underwear.

Remembering Liam’s velvety voice and naughty smile, she touched herself and imagined him there. Right there. As she visualized his hard body between her legs, she came with a silent scream that did nothing to eradicate her fever for him. After removing her hand, she moaned, turned her face into the pillow and tried to sleep.

Chapter Eight

Liam stormed into Sin, the first casino he’d built on the Strip, ready to bust some heads. He’d been called by John, the head of security there, before he even got twenty winks, let alone forty. They discovered who’d been stealing from him, and he was not impressed.

He’d dealt with theft before. It was a fact of life in the casino world. And each time they’d encountered a shark amongst the ranks, he’d been quick to act. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was disloyalty. He treated his people well, and expected the same in return. No one fucked with Liam Doyle.

Wade, John’s peer at Vice, accompanied him so he could offer input. He muttered as he tried to keep pace. “Liam, hold on. I can’t keep up with you. It makes me look bad.”

“So walk faster.”

He headed toward the staff elevators behind the casino floor, ignoring the pointed looks from a couple of women in flashy dresses who looked as if they hadn’t gone to bed yet either. They waved at him, clinking their wineglasses together. One of them gave him an unmistakably suggestive wink.

“Have a nice day, ladies,” he said, ignoring their interest.

“Damn,” Wade whispered. “You’re stronger than I am, Liam. Those two are clearly looking for some action. Hell, that might have turned into a Liam sandwich.”

They got to the elevator and Liam hit the button hard. “I’m not interested.”

Wade raised a brow and stared at him. “It’s her, isn’t it? That Callender girl?”

He crossed his arms and glared at the closed door. Why was the elevator taking so long? “We’re here on business, remember?”

Wade let out a hoot, clearly not believing a word he said. “I can’t believe it. You’re fucking Kate. Talk about screwing your rivals.”

The door opened. Finally. He wished he could shut it on Wade and make him take the stairs. When his security head stifled a guffaw, Liam turned to him. “One, don’t talk about her like that. She’s been through a lot. Two, none of your goddamn business. If you weren’t a friend, I’d fire your ass. Bad enough I have to deal with a goddamn thief right now.”

“Excuse me for stating the obvious, boss.” He peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Hang on. You’re not fucking her, are you?
That’s
why you’re pissed.”

“Wade,” he threatened.

“No wonder you went to so much trouble to make sure your little protestor was tucked away safe at Vice.” He grinned and pinched Liam’s cheek, as he would a child’s. “Well, I hope you get some action soon. It’s been a while.”

The elevator stopped on their floor and he got out. “Are you keeping notes on me or something?”

“As head of security I’m obliged to.” Wade smirked. “Naw. I just know you.” He stopped Liam by putting a hand on his shoulder and changed the subject. “Look, I know you’re in a hurry to pound something, or someone, but I’m trying to make you take a second to breathe. You look ready to kill. Patrick’s a kid. From what I’ve been told, he’s been a model employee up until now. If he’s been stealing from you, there’s a reason. Let’s just talk to him before you give him the axe.”

“I didn’t say I was going to axe him.”

“You look like you wanna axe somebody.”

Liam’s lips pressed together “When did you turn into such a big softie?”

“It’s part of my natural charm.” He offered his boss a sly smile. “So, Kate, huh? She makes good cookies, you know.”

Liam let out a grunt and proceeded to John’s office. “Not now, Wade.” Now he was in the mood to axe someone. A big, nosy, security guard someone.

Inside the security office, John already had Patrick Lester sitting uncomfortably at his desk. The kid stiffened as soon as he entered.

Like Wade said, Patrick was no more than a kid, maybe nineteen. But this kid had quietly pilfered funds from one of the casino counters. He worked as a ticket agent, selling tickets to some of their musical shows. He’d been caught pocketing some of the cash that crossed his desk, to the tune of a couple of thousand dollars.

He glanced at Liam and whispered, “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

Liam shook John’s hand and congratulated him on catching their thief. Not exactly Ocean’s Eleven caliber, but frustrating all the same. He sat next to John while Wade leaned against the closed office door, watching.

Liam didn’t know Patrick personally but something in his frightened demeanor was awfully familiar. This wasn’t a hardened criminal of the Hugo Vaughan variety. He got a sense Patrick regretted his bad judgment. Sure, he was shaking like a leaf at being caught but there was a measure of bravery in the thrust of his shoulders, as if he’d accepted he’d have to face the music. This boy reminded him of himself as a younger man, one who made a hell of a lot of mistakes. He rested his elbows on the desk and contemplated a plan of action.

The old Liam wouldn’t have even been here. He would have told his team to call the police and end the matter. But since he’d met Kate, he’d started to read between the lines. Yes, there were people in his life who’d surprised him with their callousness, but others continued to shock him with their hidden depths. Things weren’t always as simple as they appeared.

He looked Patrick in the eye. “Why did you steal from me?”

“Am I going to jail?”

“That depends.”

The boy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Doyle. My dad just lost his job and money’s tight. My parents can’t pay the bills. I try to help but it’s never enough and so much passes through this place. I didn’t think it would be missed. I did the wrong thing. I know I screwed up. I know you’re going to fire me but please don’t send me to jail. My parents need me.”

A kid trying to hold his family together, trying to make decisions in a grown-up world. Liam sympathized in more ways than one. “What did your dad do for a living?”

“He was a janitor at one of the other casinos but he got downsized. He was with them for years. Supervised his own crew.”

He turned to Wade. “Don’t we have an opening at Vice in Facilities?”

“Yep.”

Liam stared at Patrick for a moment then bridged his finger over his lip. “Tell your dad to come to the HR office at Vice tomorrow. I’ll tell the HR manager to expect him.”

The boy stared, then blinked. “What?”

“You can stay, Patrick, but I’m transferring you to a back-office job, one where you won’t have to worry about temptation. We’ll be keeping our eye on you, but it’s still a second chance. Most people wouldn’t get one. What do you say?”

“Hell, yes, sir!”

They shook hands. Or, more accurately, Patrick rang his hand like a dinner bell on the ranch. “Then keep your nose clean. John here will report back to tell me how you’re doing.”

John, who matched Wade in bulk and height, merely nodded at Patrick, which said more than words could.

“Thank you, Mr. Doyle. I promise not to let you down.” He jumped out of his chair and out of the room.

Once the kid was gone, Wade turned to Liam and grinned. “Who’s the softie now? More of your new girlfriend’s influence?” He and John traded laughs at the boss’s expense.

Damn Neanderthals. Liam stood, letting them have their little moment. Maybe he’d screw around with their vacation time to get them back. He stifled his own chuckle at the thought.

As they left the casino, he did wonder about Kate’s influence on him. Jesus, it seemed all he did was wonder about her these days. He checked his watch. It was still early. Maybe he could head back to his condo and sleep for a few hours and then hit the gym. He needed an outlet, needed to get physical with something.

Since tasting Kate yesterday, feeling the rush of her wet pussy, he’d been out of his mind—especially after seeing the look of disappointment in her eyes. Clear as day, her face had fallen because she’d realized she’d liked how he touched her. Him, the big, bad casino owner. On some level, she still saw him as the enemy and she hated herself for being tempted.

Hell, he was tempted too, and with a force that verged on the frightening. Her body had felt right under his fingertips. Her scent was burned into his brain, making him want to keep her naked and fuck her senseless. And her taste. He was still reeling from her particular sweetness. For someone who claimed not to eat sugar, she’d tasted like sugar pie, hot from the oven.

Sugar. She probably thought he used the pet name out of habit with any woman, but he’d only ever used it with her.

He shook his head and banished those images of Kate that would only come back and haunt him later.

Hating that the bothersome redhead had once again drifted into his consciousness, Liam grunted and returned to his waiting car, slamming the door behind him. Damn. Forget sleep. Maybe he’d go straight to the gym after all.

As his driver maneuvered the Escalade through Vegas traffic, Liam stared at the passing sights without really seeing them. Why was he so obsessed with this woman? So she was afraid to submit to him. There were worse things in life, like having Michelle ripped from his arms and out of his existence. Like watching his mother die when he was five years old. Like watching a heart attack kill his father nine years later, then having his stepmom turn on him when he was just a kid, like out of some fucking fairy tale. He’d wallowed in misery for a good part of his life, and was determined no one would ever do it to him again.

And yet the way Kate had looked at him after being so intimate made him feel defeated, as though she thought him no better than a wad of gum under her shoe.

Ah, hell. He needed some perspective. It just hurt because he was hard up. In his quest to get Michelle back, he’d avoided the dating scene, not that he’d felt like it anyway. Now his body was paying him back, making him lust over a woman who equated him with Satan. What was he bloody well thinking?

He was thinking, despite her bruised face and frightened demeanor, that she looked beautiful. Now that he’d had the opportunity to examine her many times, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever thought her anything but beautiful. He could admit that much. With her cheeks flushed in anticipation, she’d been the most ravishing woman he’d ever seen. And she’d wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Yet her face had changed so quickly. She hated herself for staying in a casino hotel, felt she’d betrayed her morals, and she blamed him for all but forcing her into it. Well, she’d have to get over that. If the loan shark had found her home, he’d be able to find her regular haunts. At least under his roof he could have a security detail for her.

He stared out the window as his driver headed back to Vice. A drunk, young woman carrying a pitcher of beer wobbled on the sidewalk nearby. She toppled, spilling the brew all over in front of a frowning, elderly tourist. Sin City at its finest.

Sometimes he was so tired of this place.

Was Kate? Surely a non-gambler couldn’t enjoy living so close to the Strip. As he once again wondered about her opinions, he fought the urge to pound her out of his brain.

Shit, why am I doing this?

Because you want her.

Yes, sheltering Kate at Vice was lunacy. She might implode from indignation alone. Was he just being a Good Samaritan? He’d never pictured himself in the role. Frankly, he’d been too busy trying to stay alive during his formative years. After losing his parents, things had degenerated so badly he’d barely bounced back.

But he had. He was a fighter.

And as a fighter, he’d learned to wear a mantle of distrust around his shoulders. The philosophy served him well, in business and in life. He knew there were few people in this world he could truly count on, at least of those who weren’t on his payroll. After all, he’d been betrayed by so many who were close to him. And the sense of abandonment he’d experienced after losing his parents was unparalleled.

He’d tried to be a good person and do a good thing by temporarily housing Kate. But he knew his motives ran deeper than simple philanthropy. She moved him. She excited him. And he needed to be inside her like he needed food and drink.

So what should a fighter with abandonment issues do? Well, clearly he had to persuade her to give into her own hunger. Because now that Kate was on his turf, he wasn’t letting her go.

By the evening of her second night at Vice, Kate was going stir-crazy. Staring at the same four walls, no matter how exquisite they were, made her break out in hives of restlessness. She needed to have a break from hotel TV programming and room service. She needed to stretch her legs.

Granted, the room service had been spectacular. Even though she’d tried to order the cheapest things on the menu, she’d been dazzled by the quality. The only room service she’d ordered before Vice was at some dingy hotel in Reno, where she’d had the processed chicken fingers with a side of nausea. But at Vice she’d had Angus burgers, freshly-squeezed juice and a breakfast platter of bacon and eggs Benedict that had her salivating just remembering them now. Liam had taken great pains to ensure even the casual fare at Vice was worthy of Michelin stars.

Just as he’d taken great pains to make her comfortable. Every few hours, she received calls from Liam’s assistant, a lady named Pearl, asking if she needed anything, and the man himself popped in frequently. He never stayed long. Each visit was fraught with tension, but he brought her lots of little treats. To say nothing of how Wade’s security detail stood sentinel outside her door. She felt like freaking royalty.

Or maybe a prisoner. No, definitely royalty.

Okay, more like a pretend princess with a lop-sided crown.

As nice as everything was, she needed an hour or two of fresh air, or a reasonable facsimile. Surely a change of scenery wasn’t off-limits. She’d spoken with the police again. They approved of the idea of her holing up at Liam’s hotel. Of course. It saved them from having to send officers to babysit her. However, they’d told her to stay put if she could. Any crook who’d break into a woman’s apartment and try to rearrange her face couldn’t be trusted not to do it again.

But a girl could only order pay-per-view for so long. She needed to see other people. It seemed her only option was to go for a walk within the confines of Vice, as much as the idea pained her.