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Authors: Debra Salonen

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BOOK: Betting on Grace
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Grace nodded. “Oh, Charles knows how to work the system. The other day over breakfast Liz pointed out that while most people might construe Charles’s efforts on behalf of injured casino workers as a good thing, some could argue that he was taking advantage of a fear of litigation to settle minor grievances out of court. Since he used to work for one of the biggest casinos around, he knows firsthand what the threshold is for nuisance complaints.”

A week ago, Nick would have been surprised to hear this coming from her mouth. That was before he understood that she truly was an innocent where Charles was concerned. His fear at the moment was that she was also being set up to become a victim. But he needed proof.

“So much for Mr. Altruistic?”

She looked at him with eyebrows scrunched. “You know, sometimes you’re not the person you’re trying to convince everyone you are.”

A sick feeling swept through his belly. “What do you mean?”

“You come off as blue-collar, tough, bitter and mad at the world. But other times, you’re kind, sensitive and well educated.”

He laughed shortly. “My jail had a good library.”

She crossed her arms and gave a snort that said she didn’t believe him. She wore a black business suit with dressy boots and a simple white wool sweater that lay sweetly against her neck. Her only jewelry was a heart-shaped gold locket. Her hair was piled in a twist atop her head.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks. It’s my professional look.”

“You have an appointment with Charles?”

The elevator doors opened to the floor that held the business offices. She stepped forward but didn’t exit. “Not exactly. But he’s usually here this time of day. Why?”

Nick shrugged. “MaryAnn said something about a funeral. I guess I thought Charles was going, too. I could be wrong.”

Grace let out a long sigh. “Darn. I forgot about that. Well, maybe I can catch him at his suite.” She pressed a different button. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

When the elevator chugged upward, Nick took a step closer to Grace. Her eyes widened with alarm and she put out a hand. “Look. We haven’t talked about that night in the pool. I figure it’s no big deal.” Her smile
looked forced. “No reason to feel awkward, right? You’re in a new environment. You’re lonely. I was handy.”

Nick let out a low curse. “You think that’s why I tried to kiss you?”

She readjusted the strap of her handbag and stiffened her shoulders. “More like you’re not the kind of guy to pass up an opportunity when it presents itself. I just—”

He cut off her words with his mouth. It irked him to know she thought he was an opportunist who was looking for an easy piece.

She tried to twist away, but he took her jaw in his hand and held her still. Her skin smelled liked warm peaches, her breath was sweet and shaky. He closed his eyes and kissed her. She let out a small sound that he swallowed. A whimper? A sigh? He wasn’t sure but he felt the moment she gave in to the spark between them. She looped her arms around his shoulders—for a heartbeat, then suddenly she pushed him back.

“Oh, no, not again,” she exclaimed, smacking him solidly on the chest with the palm of her hand. “What is wrong with you? With me? I’ve never in my life kissed a man in an elevator.” She pointed to the upper corner of the small box. “That’s a camera, you idiot. There are probably half a dozen security people hooting and howling right this minute.”

Nick cursed silently. The last thing he needed was for Charles to see him kissing Grace. Fortunately Charles’s in-house security system left a great deal to be desired. Only occasionally monitored, the small screens were cloudy and often offline. “So you’re here to see Charles on business, but you said I was also on your list?”

The door started to open but Nick hit Close, then waited for her to answer him. Her blush had spread to her neck.

“Um, well…this probably isn’t the best timing, but my mother wants me to take you out on the town. Show you the fun side of Vegas. She says you deserve to live it up a little. Are you free tonight?”

Nick knew he should say no. He had no reason to spend time with her. She wasn’t a suspect, but she did have Charles’s ear. And she could give him inside information on Gregor and MaryAnn, both employees of Charles’s.

“I get off at five.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

He released the elevator door and she fled without a backward glance.

Nick dropped back to lean against the wall and watched her walk away. He wanted to believe that he was doing this for the sake of the job, but he’d never had to lie to himself in the past when it came to women. He liked sex. He liked Grace. He would have liked to make love with her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight, anyway.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

N
ICK WAS USED
to being in control. At the moment, he was anything but.

Grace had picked him up at six-fifteen. “Fashionably late,” she’d claimed with a wink when he sat down in the passenger seat of her car. No excuses. No apologies.

“I’ve made reservations for dinner at my favorite seafood restaurant, but if that doesn’t appeal to you, Delmonico’s, which is renowned for its steaks, is right next door.”

“I like fish.”

“Cool. Since the real action doesn’t start until later, we might as well take advantage of what’s left of the sunlight. In fact, I thought you might enjoy a view from the top.”

Nick had consented, more or less, to put himself in her hands for the evening which was why he was now following her to an observation platform atop the Stratosphere, some thousand-plus feet above the city. Belatedly, he wished he’d exercised some free will.

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you? ’Cause I think we have time to ride the Big Shot, if you’re up for a cheap thrill.”

“What’s the Big Shot?”

“If you have to ask, you’ve got to try it. At least once. There are a couple of other choices but this one is my favorite. The coaster is kinda tame by ride standards. X-Scream and Insanity—The Ride are fun, but they’re the newest, and the lines are usually longer.”

Nick had seen photos of the amusement-park rides that dangled over the edge of the tower.
Fun
wasn’t the first word that came to mind, but he kept his opinion to himself. He didn’t want to come off as a wuss, especially when Grace’s eyes were alight with excitement. She obviously loved flirting with danger. She was flirting with him, wasn’t she? Even though she didn’t know he was a cop investigating members of her family, she had to sense he was no boy-next-door.

Nick bought the tickets—over Grace’s suggestion they go dutch—and dutifully handed them to the man who strapped them into the molded seats that were equipped with well-padded shoulder harnesses. At his side, Grace, who’d volunteered to take the outside position, looked at him and said, “You’re a bit green. I hope that’s just from the colored lights.”

“I’m not a huge fan of thrill rides.”

She laughed. “But you were too macho to admit it when I gave you the chance to back out. That’s delicious.” She gave him a look that attempted to convey sympathy, but the mirth in her eyes ruined it. “At least, I haven’t fed you yet.”

Nick let out a low growl that set off another giggle-fest, which only ended when the attendant came by to collect glasses, loose change or jewelry—anything that could become a lethal projectile during the ride. Nick’s stomach began to do somersaults.

Around him the nervous chatter lessened. Even Grace seemed to take a moment to appreciate the peril in which they’d placed themselves. Or so he thought, until she said, “Doesn’t Mount Charleston look beautiful with the last little bit of sunset behind it? I learned to ski there.”

Nick studied the distant mountain range, which looked like an uneven construction paper cutout against a child’s watercolor background. He’d made something similar for his mother when he was in grade school. He found that by keeping his gaze fixed on a point in the distance, his vertigo was less.

“You know what freaks me out about this ride?” she asked.

“That you paid money to risk your life?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “My friend, Kendra, who is in the army, told me that a combat-zone jump is made from eight-hundred feet. That’s two-hundred feet below this.”

Nick looked down. Beyond the edge of the platform, which was just a few feet away, the city was laid out in a grid of lines, angles and lights of all kinds. Headlights and taillights moved in a steady stream. The giant billboards that everyone associated with Vegas were the size of children’s toys. The bold colors that would splash across the night sky were washed out in the dusky haze of twilight.

“I draw the line at a few things and jumping out of a perfectly good airplane is one of them,” he said, the back of his head thumping solidly against the padded rest.

Grace laughed again, but whatever she’d been about to say was cut off by the voice on the loudspeaker that
started a countdown. “Prepare to blast off. Five, four, three, two, one…”

“Keep your eyes…open,” Grace said. The last word turned to a high-pitched squeal.

Yeah, right,
Nick would have said, if his mouth worked, but his jaw snapped shut as the ride shot them skyward.

Just when he was sure the contraption was going to shoot off the top of the tower and sail into the night sky, the unit came to a quivering stop. Now Nick was an extra one hundred and sixty feet higher. The world had shrunk even smaller. He knew because he couldn’t take his eyes off the view as the ride reversed direction and fell straight down to the launch pad.

It was over in a flash. The instant Nick realized he’d survived, he felt a rush of emotion. Something wild, crazy and powerful for the woman at his side. She wasn’t laughing, but the dancing zest in her eyes made him want to kiss her till they fell off the ledge. The trip down couldn’t be any more exhilarating than what he was feeling at this moment. He actually had to bite his tongue to keep from saying,
I love you.

How crazy was that?

 

A
S SHE AND
N
IKOLAI WALKED
toward the parking lot where she’d left her car, Grace mentally crossed off the items on her list.
The Stratosphere. Done. Walking along the canals and Saint Mark’s Square at The Venetian. Done. The shark exhibit at Mandalay Bay. Done. Dinner at Aquaknox. Done.
She was full and quite pleased with herself, but there were still a couple more things her mother had suggested she add to the list.

“He needs to try a little gambling,” Yetta had said. “And everyone should see the water show at Bellagio.”

Grace doubted the dancing fountains, though impressive, would be high on Nikolai’s “must see” list, but she’d suggest it. Along with taking in a dance revue. What red-blooded guy would turn down a chance to see gorgeous women in skimpy or, in some cases, nonexistent costumes?

“So,” Grace said as they reached a relatively quiet stretch of walkway near Bally’s. “Time for hard choices.”

“How hard?” he said, leaning close enough to make his point.

She groaned as she would have if Gregor had teased her. “Difficult, I meant to say.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “You’ve been flirting with me all night. Do you mean to or is suggestive banter a sexy-guy thing? You can’t help yourself?”

“You think I’m sexy?”

She let out sigh. “And now game playing. Listen. I was nearly engaged to a gorgeous ski bum once. We were this close to setting up house.” She held her thumb and index finger up for him to see the tiny space between them. “But he couldn’t give up the thrill of the conquest. He always felt terrible afterward and promised never to do it again, but his promises were lamer than his…well, you get the picture.”

His chuckle was warm and inclusive. Grace had been fighting her attraction for him ever since he’d ridden the Big Shot with her. She hadn’t actually planned the ride as a test, but he’d proven something to her by doing what anyone could tell was pure torture for him. He’d let
down one set of his defenses and she’d wanted to reward him with a kiss. She hadn’t, of course. But she’d wanted to. And the spark between them had only gotten more intense as they watched couples being serenaded on the gondola rides, something she hadn’t dared suggest.

“I’m enjoying my evening out with you,” Nikolai said. He took her hand. His was large and strong. “This is a date, right? Isn’t flirting allowed?”

“It’s not a date. Not exactly. You’re family.”

He dropped the hand he was holding to take hold of her shoulders. He waited until she made eye contact before saying, “Let’s get one thing straight. We are
not
—” he stressed the word “—related. Not by blood, anyway.”

“But—”

He shook his head. “But nothing. Whatever the connection is, it’s not close enough that our children would be born with tails.”

She knew he was just making a point, but his use of the word children made her pulse increase speed. “Okay. I won’t refer to you as Cousin Nikolai anymore. Satisfied?”

He leaned in and stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand. “Not even close, but it’s a start.”

Grace was thankful for the dim light—well, dim by Vegas standards. “Um, then, we have to decide what to do next. How ’bout a show? Comedy, Broadway musical, topless revue?”

He appeared to be thinking over his options, so she added, “Charles is a big fan of the latter. I thought about calling him to ask which one he’d recommend, but I had to help out at The Dancing Hippo, which
made me late. Alex was feeling a bit under the weather. I could try his cell—”

“No. That’s not my thing. What else did you have in mind?”

His question was innocent enough, but Grace felt a clutching sensation low in her belly. She knew what she’d like to do with him but since that was not an option… “Um, Mom thought you might like to try your hand at poker, no pun intended. A friend of mine deals Texas Hold’em at the Orleans, but I’m not sure I can teach you everything you need to know to play in the time it takes to get there. It’s not that far away.”

“I’ve played a little poker. I can probably hold my own.” He winked. “Pun fully intended.”

Grace smiled. She tucked her arm though his in a friendly way, and marched beside him to the car. She kept up a running commentary about life in Vegas, but in the back of her mind a small voice kept saying,
Too fast, Grace. This is happening too fast. Slow down before you crash and burn.

He might not be a blood relative, but he was a member of her family, at least, as far as her mother was concerned. Plus, Grace hadn’t had a serious romance since the restaurant opened, so her family wasn’t used to seeing men visit her little trailer. In fact, Nikolai was the first man to make her want to end her celibate ways.

Oh, well, she thought as she headed down Tropicana, the night was still young by Vegas standards. Anything could happen.

Two hours later, Grace decided if she had to describe what it was like playing poker with Nikolai, the only word that fit was
mind-blowing.

He was so damn smart. He picked up the nuances of the game faster than any person she’d ever watched. He was unemotional and could bluff with a face that made you positive he held a straight flush every time.

Unfortunately, he bet too conservatively for her taste. Her father would have said the man had control issues.

“Sometimes when you’re gambling, you have to step aside and let lady luck play for you,” Ernst once told her. “This requires a leap of faith that the average person just can’t make.”

Nikolai lost several hands because he didn’t bet aggressively enough to scare off the hangers-on. And she was one of them. Her cards were never particularly good, but she’d linger in a hand past the flop and twice picked up winning hands when the turn, the second down card, gave her three of a kind. Against a more experienced player, she’d have ducked for cover after the initial bet and raise.

She was watching now because she’d finally lost all her chips to someone else at the table when her bluff failed. The stakes weren’t that high, but she’d played often enough to know that this wasn’t her night.

Nikolai lasted a few more hands. In the end, he lost, too.

“Sorry about that,” she said, when he joined her at the railing where onlookers stood to view the action.

“Are you kidding? That was worth every penny. I had fun.”

“Really? You looked so intense.”

He smiled. “That was my game face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re scowling at me.”

He cocked his longneck beer bottle in her direction. His second of the night. She’d noticed that he drank
moderately. They’d shared a bottle of champagne at dinner, courtesy of the sommelier who knew she owned Romantique. The sparkling wine had been just the right combination of dry and sweet to accent their fabulous meal of blackened ahi.

They headed toward the main part of the casino. Grace was reluctant for the night to end. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed myself this evening,” she said.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. You’re not an easy man to read. You gave up pretty quickly after I dodged your advances in the pool. I figured you were embarrassed or you had a girlfriend back home or…maybe I misread your intentions and you weren’t into girls.”

He nearly choked on his swallow of beer.

“Really?”

Grace felt herself blush. “No. But that would have eased the pain of rejection when you ignored me all week.”

He took a step closer. “Tell me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it.”

She rolled her eyes. “That line doesn’t actually work, does it? Please tell me Detroit women have higher standards than to fall for something that cheesy.”

Nick pressed his mostly full beer bottle to his chest. If he was smart, he’d take the opportunity to call it a night, but flirting with Grace was…fun. “Now, you’ve wounded me to the core. How ’bout a nightcap? We can discuss what you can do to fix my…er, problem.”

When she hesitated, he took her elbow and steered her toward a dimly lit bar where four musicians occupied a small, raised stage. An ornate marquee said they were the Masters of the Jazz Universe.

“Do you like jazz?” he asked after they were seated at a table.

Grace looked up from the drink menu she was studying. “I love all kinds of music. Especially if I can dance to it. Will you dance with me? I haven’t been on the dance floor in ages.”

“Sorry. I don’t dance.”

“I can teach you. I’m not as good as Alex, but I’m not bad.” She gave him a coquettish smile that he’d seen turn snobbish waiters into obsequious attendants.

He was saved from answering by the arrival of the waitress. Nick ordered a scotch and soda; Grace asked for bottled water since she was driving. Nick approved, although he didn’t tell her that. He’d been faking his alcohol consumption all evening and was stone-cold sober.

BOOK: Betting on Grace
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