Lucky Streak (7 page)

He couldn't think clearly when she was stark naked beneath his shirt, lying seductively in his bed. Memories of making love to her came at him from all sides and he needed his head on straight to deal with her rationally like the sober cop he was now, not the guy who'd rescued her in Vegas and then let her sucker him.

 

I
T COULD HAVE GONE WORSE
, Amber thought. She'd seen a flicker of desire in Mike's gaze before he'd banked it in favor of his anger.

She could work with that flicker. Amber had one goal and one only—she wanted to get back to having a real life, one similar to her life before her father had grown ill. Mike and this sudden marriage offered her possibilities she wanted to explore more fully. And she wanted that chance.

Before he could let his emotions overcome him and refuse to deal with her at all, she slipped on her shoes and headed for the other room.

She found him, arms crossed, staring out the window onto the street below. Her heels clicked on the wood floor and he turned at the sound of her approach.

“I thought I told you to get dressed.”

She glanced down at her sandal-clad feet and the shirt that covered as much as any skirt and top would. “I
am
dressed.”

“That's not what I meant.” He exhaled a frus
trated sound. “Never mind.” He shifted his hands to his hips. “Go on. Explain.”

She followed his movement with her gaze and paused. “Would you mind taking off your gun first?”

He rolled his eyes and removed his gun, muttering under his breath the entire time. “It's not like I'd shoot you,” he said finally.

“You look pretty upset, not that I blame you.”

He held up one hand. “Start at the beginning. It was a scam, right?”

“Wrong!” she said, wanting him to understand that from the beginning. “Everything that happened between us was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. And just as real. I had every intention of being there when you woke up. I'd made coffee and everything, but then I got a call on my cell phone—”

“From who?”

She met his gaze. “Marshall.”

“Your ex-partner. The one who was manhandling you.”

She nodded. “He wasn't happy you ran him off. All day long I'd had the feeling I was being followed,” she admitted.

“Yet you didn't say anything.”

“You'd already confronted Marshall. I didn't want you to have to deal with J.R., too. He's Marshall's right-hand man. I thought I saw him and so I ducked into the wedding chapel to get away.”

He exhaled a rough breath. “Go on.”

“Anyway, like I said, that morning, Marshall called my cell. He knew about the money you'd won, and our marriage. He said he'd taken my father from the nursing home and the only way I could get him back was to meet him and hand over the cash or else. I didn't believe him at first so I hung up and called the home. They said Marshall signed my father out. I wanted my father back and I had no other option but to do as he said.”

He held out his hand. “Give me your cell phone.”

She narrowed her gaze. “It's in the other room.” She ran back to his bedroom and returned with her phone, handing it to him. “Here. Why?”

“To verify your story.” He turned on her phone and played with some of the buttons. “Incoming at the right time, outgoing immediately after…” He hit another button and placed the phone to his ear.

“What now, Officer?”

“Detective. I'm calling your friend Marshall.” He made a frustrated face and handed her back her cell phone. “It's disconnected. But at least I can see you aren't lying, for whatever that's worth. What did Marshall want the money for?”

“To buy into a poker game. He needed to make some big cash to pay off a guy he owed. He promised he'd win back what I took so I could pay you back in full.”

Mike couldn't believe the idiocy coming from
her lips. “Exactly what guarantee did Marshall have that he'd win at cards? Isn't that why it's called gambling? The outcome is uncertain?”

“Unless you know how to count. Look, he's good at what he does, but something went wrong. He only won back half of what I owe you. But if you remember, you said if you won, half was mine, so technically you're paid back in full—less the taxi and airline ticket, which I'll pay back. But I never intended to take any of your money, so I promise I'll pay you back every cent of the other half, too. Somehow.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes at him, trying to make light of the mess she'd gotten herself into.

“Damn right you'll pay me back,” he muttered.

“The first thing I did afterward was to come back to your hotel room, but you were gone,” she pleaded, wide-eyed and rushed, obviously hoping he'd buy her story.

“Should I have waited around for
my wife
to return with the stolen cash?”

She winced. “I'm sorry. I really am.”

“You could have woken me. I stepped in with Marshall once. I would have helped you again.”

She drew a deep breath. “My life is complicated. I wanted to get settled here and make things work with you. I even hoped to eventually move my father here if our relationship was strong enough.”

“But we'll never know because you didn't trust
me with the first big thing that came up.” And that, Mike thought, hurt more than it should have.

So did the wounded look in her eyes at his bluntly spoken words.

“It's got nothing to do with trust. It's habit. I've been on my own for so long. I never had my mother, and my father was loving and fun, but he wasn't always around. Look, I'm not used to turning to anyone. Marshall had my father and it was up to me to save him. But I came back. And I'm here now…”

It wasn't enough that she distracted him with her long, bare legs and flashing cleavage, but he was drawn to her plea of understanding, to her words. She expected him to buy her crazy story. Crazy enough to be at least partially believable because she had come all the way east to find him.

Still, she was obviously omitting plenty and this woman was trouble. So why was he still so damn attracted to everything about her, including her fantastical tale?

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He walked to the portable and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Mike, it's Derek. You've got to come deal with your father. In person.”

Damn. “What's he done now?”

Amber watched him, curiosity all over her expressive face.

“He strung cats around our front porch,” Derek said.

Mike shut his eyes and groaned. “Live cats?” Mike asked, his stomach in knots. “Or dead ones?” He crossed his fingers as he waited for an answer.

“Stuffed ones, but that's not the point. Dammit, Mike, Gabrielle's going to have a heart attack wondering what he'll string up next!”

Mike ran his hand through his hair. “I hear you. I'll be there in an hour.”

He glanced at Amber and knew he had no choice. He wasn't letting her out of his sight again until he could decide what happened next.

“Get dressed. For real this time,” he said.

“Where are we going?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“To meet your father-in-law.”

 

“N
OBODY CONS
King Bobby!” King Bobby Boyd bellowed into his cell phone, yelling at one of the men who worked for him in Texas. He had enough connections in the underworld to do his dirty work, but there was a lady involved and King Bobby didn't like to hurt the fairer sex. For now, he'd just use those connections to get himself some answers. Now, if she didn't cooperate, then he'd have to come up with another way to convince her. And that would be a pity.

But for now he'd take things slow. “Listen to the information I got and write it down. Got a pad and pen?”

He waited for the yahoo on the phone to get something to write with and puffed on his cigar.

“Calm yourself down or you'll have another heart attack,” Emmy Lou said from the bed. “It's bad enough the doctor told you to cut out cigars and you don't listen—”

“You ready now, you redneck simpleton?” Bobby ignored his wife's yammering, waiting for the man on the other end to return to the phone. “Good. Listen up. Blond hair. Curly. Pretty gal. First name's Amber. Used to work as a concierge at one of the bigger hotels in Beverly Hills. Start with that and see what you can turn up.” He flipped his cell phone closed and took another puff.

“I really don't think Amber had anything to do with you losing,” Emmy Lou said. “She seemed like a nice girl, not the kind who'd distract men so her partner man could fleece a table.” She shifted the V-neck top to even out her ample bosom.

“Maybe not, but she's the only lead I got. You can't con a con and that weasel she was with stunk to high hell. I knew he was no good.”

“You mean he outconned the King and you don't like it.”

“Damn straight. And then he ran away fast like the pansy-ass I pegged him for. Didn't give me a fair shot to win my money back.” Take it back was more like it.

King Bobby had been counting cards since he was a kid on his father's knee and the only way he'd get beat was by another con.

“You don't need the money. You're the richest man in all of King's County,” Emmy Lou cooed at him.

“It's a matter of pride, woman! I'm gonna get me my money back and that little lady named Amber's my key.”

M
IKE DROVE
to his father's place, lost in thought, and Amber didn't intrude. She wanted him to think about everything she'd told him, but most important she wanted him to realize what it meant that she'd returned. Let him remember how special their wedding night had been and what awaited him if he agreed to give her a second chance again.

Besides, she wasn't going anywhere. First, she couldn't return to Vegas until King Bobby was gone and no longer looking for her. And to know that, she needed to track down Marshall. Amber couldn't shake the memory of Caroline's comment about King Bobby being “connected.” She couldn't grow up in Vegas, hanging around the men her father ran with, and now know about the darker side of a gambler's life. And she couldn't risk the chance King Bobby had just been bluffing. She'd have to stay hidden.

But there was more to her being in Boston than simply her fear of King Bobby. She
wanted
to stay
with Mike and convince him she wasn't the kind of person he now thought she was. He needed to accept that his first impression, the gut feeling that allowed him to bond with her in the first place, was the correct one.

She wanted to get to know her husband. She hadn't been able to put him out of her mind and not just because she had betrayed him and owed him, both an explanation and money. He was as sexy as she remembered, with a day's worth of razor stubble and the sport jacket he'd worn to court giving him an edgy appeal. But gone were the easy smiles and relaxed aura he wore in Vegas. In their place was a wary man who'd been betrayed.

She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and glanced out the window. The cityscape had long ago been replaced by green grass, trees and open fields, so different from the dry desert of Nevada or the smog of L.A.

She could get used to the fresh new scenery. She definitely liked Boston, at least what she'd seen of it, and starting tomorrow, she'd explore more. It might be a great place to start over. And with luck, she could find a job at one of the big hotels here.

Her grandparents had passed away a few years ago and all she had left of family was her father. She could move him out here, too, so she could spend whatever time he had left with him without Marshall nearby to cause trouble. And she could know, for
sure, if this marriage had any possibility of lasting. Not just because she wanted Mike to see she was a good person, but because
she
needed closure for herself.

She wasn't a quitter. She'd entered into this marriage; she was going to do her best to make it work out.

Based on the hard expression on Mike's face and the set of his jaw, Amber knew she was getting way ahead of herself, but that's how she operated in life. Gung ho and full steam ahead, using her charm and photographic memory to their best advantage. That's how she'd carved out a job as one of the best concierges in Beverly Hills.

Brad Pitt himself had requested her services, as did the rest of his pals. The only drawback to her life in L.A. was the fact that she couldn't get her father on her health insurance plan. It had been the only thing that had drawn her back to Vegas and into Sam's world of underground high-stakes poker.

But it had also inadvertently led her to Mike Corwin. The man was real. Her day with Mike had shown her what had been missing from her life in Beverly Hills. It wasn't just that she'd been too busy for a social life of her own. Her job had consumed her and at the time, that had been fine with her. But the fear of losing her father, combined with her un-forgettable day—and night—with Mike had shown her that she needed someone to come home to at
night. Someone to talk to. Someone who could make her feel as alive as Mike had in the twenty-four hours she'd spent with him.

She just wanted a chance to see if he was the one she was meant for. And she intended to get that chance in the same way she did everything else in her life.

She'd earn it.

“What's wrong?” Mike asked, breaking the long silence.

“Nothing. Why?”

“You sighed.”

“I didn't realize I had.”

“Listen, about my father…” He trailed off.

“You mentioned that he's…
off,
I think is what you said.”

He nodded. “He's reclusive and eccentric,” Mike said, choosing his words carefully. There were none to really prepare Amber for what she was about to encounter, but he might as well try.

No doubt Edward would scare her off, either by his crotchety attitude, the way he lived or the fact that once his father realized there was something between Amber and Mike, Edward would do his damnedest to run her off before the curse kicked in.

Mike shook his head and groaned. “You'll see what I mean soon enough.” They were almost at the exit leading to Stewart, where his father lived in an old house on the edge of town.

“What about your mother?” Amber asked. “Does she live there, too?”

He shook his head. “They're divorced. Have been for ten years. She's remarried. She and my stepfather live about an hour from Boston, too, in the opposite direction from here.”

“I'm glad you're talking to me again.” She curled her jeans-clad leg beneath her and turned toward him, obviously settling in for more “get to know you” talk.

“I just want you to be prepared when you meet my father.”

“My father-in-law,” she said too cheerfully.

“About that—” Without insulting her or getting into too much detail about the
family curse,
he needed to figure out how to ask her not to bring up their marriage to his father.

If she'd never stolen the money and bolted, he supposed he'd have brought her back and dealt with his father's insanity. But she'd betrayed him. He couldn't trust her, and he really didn't even know her. And she wouldn't be around much longer so there was no reason to upset Edward and get him started on the damn curse.

“Listen, I'd rather you not tell my father we're—”

“Skunk!” Amber shrieked, pointing straight in front of them.

Mike slammed on his brakes, narrowly missing
the animal in the middle of the old country road leading to his father's house.

“Are you okay?” he asked Amber.

She nodded. “Close call.”

He agreed. He was about to drive around the skunk when he caught sight of his father, walking in front of the car.

Mike closed his eyes and muttered a curse. He shifted the car into Park and opened the window. “Dad, what the hell are you doing? It's a skunk. Get in the car before it sprays us all!”

But to Mike's surprise, his father bent down and grabbed the animal by the tail.

“What's he doing?” Amber asked, wide-eyed with shock.

“It looks like he's bringing it over.”

Before Mike could find the button to shut the window, Edward leaned over and said, “Michael, meet my new pet, Stinky Pete.”

“For the love of…Get that thing out of here.”

“He's descented. But don't tell that to anyone in town. It keeps people away.”

“They don't come around anymore anyway,” Mike said, wondering how his father had allowed himself to descend so far into his own world.

Edward Corwin looked like a modern-day mountain man. His black hair, wiry and sprinkled with gray, hadn't seen scissors in ages; neither had his beard. He wore khaki shorts, old shirts and beat-up
sandals, but they were stylish enough for Mike to know his father still made trips to town from time to time.

The house he lived in had been built back when Edward and his brothers owned their own construction business, in the days before their generation of Corwin men had suffered from the curse, when the brothers had been on speaking terms and life had been as close to normal as Mike suspected his father had ever known it to be.

After the feud over Mike's aunt Sara Jean, the business had gone bankrupt, the partnership ended and the brothers made their own living doing handiwork. Edward had worked as a plumber, at least until he'd became so strange. Now, no one wanted him in their homes.

But by that point, Mike had been making a decent living and deposited money monthly into his father's bank account. By silent agreement the men never discussed it, although Mike knew his father used the money for necessities like food and clothing. If he was also bankrolling the odd purchase of voodoo paraphernalia or other items, Mike preferred not to know about it.

“Get in the car. I'll drive you back to the house,” he said to his father. He didn't look at Amber, afraid to see the horror in her gaze.

For some reason he didn't want to own up to yet, he cared what she thought of his father.

Edward opened the backdoor and climbed into the seat.

“He's descented, huh?” Amber asked.

“Who's she?” Edward asked Mike.

“I'm Amber. Does he bite?” she asked.

Mike shrugged. “Last time I checked, no. But he didn't have a skunk last time I was here, either.”

Amber laughed, the light tinkling sound that had enchanted him in Vegas did so again now. “I meant the skunk, not your father. Does Stinky Pete bite?”

Knowing his father wouldn't talk to her, Mike glanced in his rearview mirror. “Dad, does the rodent bite?”

“No.”

Against all common sense, at least to Mike's way of thinking, Amber turned around in her seat and faced Edward. “Can I hold him?” she asked.

Any sane woman would have run screaming by now. Any rational human would have insisted they leave immediately.

Amber took the skunk from his father's hands.

And Edward let her.

Then he did the unimaginable. He invited her inside the house.

Nothing inside the old cape-style structure had changed since Mike's mother had moved out except the clutter. Mike was used to it.

Amber excused herself to use the bathroom and Mike jumped on the opportunity to discuss the
reason for his visit. “Dad, Derek called and asked me to talk to you. He and Gabrielle appreciate your concern for them, but they'd really like for you to stop…” How did he put it politely? “Stringing crap up over their door and sprinkling fairy dust on their walkway.”

“Someone's got to ward off evil spirits. They're tempting fate. So who is she?” Edward waved a hand toward the doorway Amber had gone through.

Mike didn't pretend to misunderstand. “Her name is Amber Rose. I met her in Vegas.”

“I thought what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” his father said, cracking a joke for the first time in…well, longer than Mike could remember. “Yet you brought her home with you?” Edward's gaze narrowed.

Mike knew there was no way around the truth. Besides, who was he going to tell? “We got married,” he muttered.

“Married!” Edward shouted. “Are you out of your mind? The curse is going to get you yet. Unless…You don't love her, do you?”

Mike shook his head. “I don't even know her.”

“Well, praise be, there's hope for you yet.” Edward raised his hands in the air, then ran to the nearest cabinet and returned with a jar of red dust.

“Don't come near me with that stuff,” Mike ordered in his sternest voice.

Edward frowned and placed the jar on a table.
“You aren't in love with her, you barely know her, and you just met her this weekend so you wouldn't know if she was knocked up. That means you married her because she's hot. Sexy hot.” Edward nodded, seemingly talking to himself and satisfied with his own answers. “That makes sense at least. No love, no curse. Then again, remember your cousin Derek's first marriage? The curse kicked in there anyway.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Derek was a workaholic and he wasn't in love with his wife. That's a recipe for disaster any way you look at it. There was no curse needed. But back to Derek. Will you promise me you'll leave Derek and Gabrielle alone? Quit trying to protect them from the damn curse.”

“What curse are you talking about?”

Mike glanced up to see Amber standing in the entrance to the den, watching them, but staring at Mike intently.

“You didn't tell her about the curse?” Edward's expression turned to one of horror.

“No, and neither will you. Just like you'll mind your own business with Derek and Gabrielle. They choose not to believe in the curse and that's that. Understood?”

“What curse?” Amber asked again.

Mike grabbed her beneath the elbow. “Later,” he said to Amber under his breath. “Dad, we've got to go.”

“But we'll check on you again tomorrow!”

“No, we won't,” Mike said. “I work the day shift,” he reminded Edward, in case his father thought Amber had any kind of say in his life.

Because she didn't.

And he had no time to visit his father tomorrow.

“Then can one of you call me tomorrow?” he said to them both. “I want to know more about my daughter-in-law and this quickie marriage.”