The Wedding Gamble

by Cindi Myers

  Maybe she had a point. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

  “The girls and I have spa appointments at the Hard Rock at eleven—champagne brunch, facials, and massages—the works. You should come.”

  “All right.” A few hours of pampering did sound divine.

  …

  David stood with an ear pressed to the bathroom door, Laura’s words like a song he couldn’t get out of his head. I trust David. He won’t hurt me. He closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. No! he wanted to protest. You shouldn’t trust me. I can’t be trusted.

  Not that he would ever harm a single hair on her head, but he couldn’t be sure others wouldn’t hurt her. He’d deliberately exposed her to danger—a guilt he’d live with the rest of his life. If only he’d chosen someone different in the crowd that night, someone harder and less vulnerable. He’d never expected someone like Laura to step into his life, someone so tender and trusting, who nevertheless was strong enough to peel back the layers of his own reserve.

  He didn’t make commitments—not to other people. His dedication to his work made bonds with others impossible, even dangerous. But Laura tempted him to break all the rules he’d established for his life. She showed him a different kind of life, one in which he wasn’t always alone.

  That kind of thinking could get them both killed. He pushed away from the door, wishing he could as easily push away from her.

  He took a deep breath prepared to face her, to do what he had to do, no matter how much it hurt. Then he returned to the bedroom where she still sat, hair mussed from sleep.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. Her smile, tender as a caress, made his breath catch in his throat. “Rachel gets a little carried away sometimes, but she’s fine now.”

  “What did she want?” He was stalling, trying to think of the right words to send her away without hurting her too much.

  “Oh, she’s still upset about the things she’s learned about you—your cover story. She’s convinced I’ve lost my mind, staying with you.”

  “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should leave.” His stomach clenched; the words tasted bitter.

  “I can’t leave now. I won’t.”

  He couldn’t believe she was still thinking about him and his safety. “I’ve played this game a long time now,” he said. “I know how to survive.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t use a little help now.” She pushed her hair back off her forehead, her breasts beneath the thin top lifting as she did so. His body responded with an intense surge of longing that made logical thought and coherent speech impossible. He stared, dry-mouthed and aching for her.

  “I’m your wife, and we haven’t finished our honeymoon.”

  “You aren’t afraid I’ll hurt you?” The words sounded strained to his ears.

  “You probably will.” Her smile took some of the sting out of the words. “But sometimes pleasure is worth a little pain.”

  Was she talking about sex, or was it only that suddenly he could think of nothing else? He needed to leave—to walk out of this hotel room and go somewhere to cool off. Like the Arctic, maybe. Anything less wouldn’t put a dent in the fever that was building inside him for her. But he couldn’t make himself leave. He didn’t have that kind of strength. “What do we do now?” he rasped.

  Her smile turned sensuous. “Right now? Maybe we should finish where we left off last night.”

  Bad idea, a small voice in the back of his head whispered, but he was already moving toward her, pulling her into his arms, kissing her with a passion and intensity that left them both breathless.

  “You feel amazing,” she whispered as she began laying a trail of soft kisses down his chest.

  “You are amazing,” he whispered. He stroked her shoulders as she kissed her way down his abdomen. When her tongue circled his navel, then followed the trail of fine hairs to dip into the waistband of his pants, he pulled her up. “My turn,” he said, and raised the pajama top over her head.

  He lifted both her breasts in his hands, enjoying the weight and softness of them. When he stroked his thumbs across her distended nipples, she gasped and arched against him. As he lavished attention on each breast in turn, her responses delighted him. She smiled, writhed beneath him, and chided him in breathless whispers for torturing her this way.

  She was neither prim and proper schoolmistress, nor wild vixen. She was neither innocent nor jaded. She was simply…honest. She didn’t hide her feelings or pretend sensations she didn’t have. That she would be so vulnerable with him, so open and unreserved, moved him to an extra measure of both passion and tenderness. He wanted to give her everything, to show her every pleasure and hold nothing back.

  He laid her gently on the bed, removed her pajama bottoms and panties with her help, and divested himself of his trousers. She raised up on one elbow to watch him undress. “You look even better than I imagined,” she said.

  “So you’ve been fantasizing about me?”

  “Oh yes. And dreaming about you.”

  “You’ve been in my dreams, too.” He knelt beside her. “I dreamed about doing this.” He slid two fingers inside her and felt her muscles clench against him, the sensation reverberating all the way to his groin. She was slick with her need for him, her body bent like a bow aimed toward him.

  He slid down her body, her thighs cool and silky against his hands. He moaned with pleasure at the first taste of her, not sweet, not sour, but a flavor all her own. He stroked and suckled, her cries encouraging him to taunt and tease her to new heights of pleasure.

  She was still spasming in the last throes of her climax when he slid into her. She fit around him like hot satin, clenching and holding him even as he retreated then thrust again. She reached around and grasped his ass with surprising fierceness. Eyes as dark as melted chocolate, she looked up at him, forcing him to return her direct gaze. She wasn’t going to let him drift off in some fantasy of passion; they were locked together, body and soul. He’d never felt more vulnerable—or more protected.

  He slowed his pace, drawing out the moments. Eyes fixed on her, he let her see everything he was feeling, let her see how much he needed her and exulted in her. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and shaped his hand to her breast once more. Her breath caught and her muscles tightened, and he sensed her reaching toward another climax. He moved one hand down between them to fondle the center of her arousal and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

  “Oh, yes!” she gasped.

  He tried to focus on her, holding back though he was near the breaking point, her body coaxing him to let go, to give in to this thing he’d been fighting almost from the moment he met her. She arched beneath him, eyes drifting shut at last, and let out a low, satisfied moan. He thrust harder, deeper, until his vision blurred and his breath came in gasps, his completion overwhelming him, rendering him both triumphant and helpless in her grasp.

  They clung together for a long time until he slid off of her. “You…are…amazing,” he gasped.

  “Then that makes two of us.” She kept her eyes closed but smiled, the satisfied smile of a woman who has been well-loved.

  In that moment, he realized he did love her. He could never say the words, absurd as they were after so short an acquaintance. But he wasn’t a man who gave his heart away easily—or ever—so maybe he’d been primed and waiting for someone like her to slip in and steal it. The emotion wasn’t any less true for him having to keep it a secret. He loved Laura Nichols, his sweet and sexy, unexpected and unlikely wife. Despite the vows they’d spoken, their future held no promise of forever. They’d likely part before the week was out. But he’d take this one sweet secret with him: a man who’d spent most of his life alone had found love in the most unlikely of places. With a woman he would never, ever forget.

  Chapter Ten

  Laura had never believed in fairy tales. Even as a child, she’d been suspicious of perfect princesses and fairy godmothers. But if Sleeping Beauty had really existed,
this must have been what she felt like when she awoke from her long nap. Laura felt beautiful and strong and bold—all the things she’d always wanted to be but wasn’t. Making love with David had transformed her, and she was ready to enjoy more of the same.

  She rolled over to tell him—or more importantly, show him—but the bed beside her was empty. She sat up, expecting to find him standing across the room or to hear water running in the shower, but the room was silent. Empty.

  Fighting panic, she jumped out of bed. Not that standing in the middle of the floor naked was going to help matters, but hiding under the covers didn’t seem the appropriate response to a crisis. She headed for the closet, and she saw David’s suitcase on the floor. He hadn’t completely left her. So where had he disappeared to?

  The snick of the card key in the lock sent a flood of relief through her. The door opened and David stepped in, phone in hand. “Well, hello.” She felt the heat of his gaze as he took in her naked form. He crossed to her in three strides and wrapped his arms around her. “I had to make some calls and didn’t want to wake you.”

  Who did you call? she wanted to ask, but that really wasn’t her business, was it? “Have you heard from Tommy?” she asked. “Or from Victor or Charlie?”

  “I’m still trying to get together with Tommy.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “Seeing Victor and Charlie with me spooked him. He’s getting cold feet.”

  “What will happen if he doesn’t testify against his father?”

  “We won’t have much of a case—just lots of circumstantial evidence. Probably not enough to convict.”

  “Why would he want to betray his own father? I mean, has his dad done something specific to make Tommy want to get back at him?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t really care. Being a mob boss responsible for the deaths of who knows how many innocent—and maybe not so innocent—people is enough. Maybe Tommy doesn’t have the stomach for the violence anymore.”

  He looked away, but not before she glimpsed the sadness in his eyes. Her parents weren’t perfect—she sometimes thought they took her for granted—but she knew they loved her and would always be there for her when it mattered. His own father had been involved in that violent life to the point where David had grown to hate him. How horrible would a father have to be to separate himself from his child that way?

  “It’s a little after ten,” he said. “Do you want to order breakfast?”

  “I promised Rachel I’d meet her at eleven at the spa at the Hard Rock for brunch and a massage and stuff.”

  “You should go. It’ll be fun for you. I feel guilty that you’re here on vacation and you haven’t had much time to enjoy yourself.”

  She’d certainly enjoyed herself earlier this morning. The sex had been incredible, and it was tempting to blow off everything else for a chance to repeat the experience.

  But she wasn’t some ordinary newlywed reveling in closeness with her beloved; what she and David had, no matter how wonderful, wasn’t meant to last. The more she indulged in the fantasy, the more the reality would hurt.

  “What will you do while I’m gone?” she asked.

  “I have some errands to run.”

  “Nothing dangerous?”

  “Not any more dangerous than taking my suit to the cleaners.”

  That sounded innocent enough. “Be careful,” she said. “Charlie and Victor are still out to get you.”

  “You be careful, too.” He released her. “Now go on and get dressed before I change my mind about letting you go.”

  She debated encouraging him, but he was right. If she didn’t show up at the spa, Rachel would probably come looking for her. Besides, this was a good opportunity to step back and try to gain a little perspective.. She showered and dressed. She was brushing out her hair when David moved in behind her. “You look nice,” he said, and kissed the back of her neck. “We’ll go somewhere tonight for dinner.”

  “A real date?”

  “Yeah. Maybe even take in a show, if you want.”

  “The only show I want is to see you naked again.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  …

  David insisted on walking Laura downstairs and seeing her safely into a cab. While the driver waited, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a long kiss. “Wow, what was that for?” she asked when he finally released her.

  “I didn’t want you to forget me while you were gone,” he said.

  Her smile said more than words, letting him know she wasn’t likely to forget the man who’d turned her world upside down. She slid into the back seat of the cab and turned to wave as the car drove away.

  He let out a sigh and stepped back from the curb. He hated having to lie to her, but if he’d told the truth, he’d have never gotten her safely out of harm’s way. His errand wasn’t taking a suit to the cleaners but meeting with Tommy. After a lot of cajoling, he’d persuaded the young man to meet him at the nightclub on the second floor of the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino.

  He checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes until his meeting with Tommy. He set out walking in the direction of the hotel, deliberately taking a long, roundabout path, crossing through hotels and casinos on one side of the street, then another, just another random tourist attracted by the sights and sensations of Vegas. He stopped in the Mirage to pump a handful of quarters into the slots, his money vanishing without a single payoff. As he played, he studied passers-by in the machine’s shiny chrome trim, watching for the familiar bulky figures of Victor and Charlie. Obviously, they’d caught up with him earlier. Was it because they’d figured out where he was staying, or were they roaming the Strip in search of him?

  Outside again, he paused to look in shop windows, again checking the crowd for the two thugs. A dress in one of the displays distracted him. Stylishly cut, the dress was a deep shade of blue that would be perfect with Laura’s dark hair and eyes. She’d look great in that dress, the soft fabric gently draping over her figure. He moved on to the next store window. This one displayed the wares of a jeweler, diamonds glittering under the bright lights. Laura would look stunning in that necklace, the jewels glowing against her peachy skin.

  He forced his mind back to business…But completing his business here meant leaving her. If he persuaded Tommy to come with him, he might not even get a chance to say good-bye to her.

  Guilt and regret squeezed at his heart.

  He had to focus on the job. Putting Zacolli and his people behind bars was more important than anything else—more important than Laura or his own happiness. He’d worked toward this for years. He had to remember that.

  The Vanity Nightclub wasn’t open this time of day, but in classic mob fashion, Tommy knew someone who knew someone who would open the doors for him, then disappear. David contemplated the darkened entrance. As soon as he stepped into that foyer, he’d be backlit, the perfect target for an ambush. Not that he thought Tommy had anything like that in mind, but it was always better to stay a step ahead of your enemies and plan for the worst.

  So he walked on past the entrance to a hallway that ran behind the space. He found a door marked Employees Only and pushed against it. He wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked. They probably made liquor and food deliveries through here.

  He eased open the door and slipped inside. The space smelled of stale cigarettes and floor polish. The cigarette smell intensified as he moved toward the front of the club. Tommy sat at a table near the bar, smoking despite the No Smoking placard behind him.

  “That cigarette’s going to draw attention you maybe don’t want,” David said.

  Tommy’s chair scraped against the floor as he whirled to face David. “Shit! Sneaking up behind a guy like that will get you killed.”

  He didn’t reply but merely joined Tommy at his table. Tommy stubbed out the cigarette. “You want a drink?” He gestured toward the bar.

  “No thanks.” He spread both hands flat on the table between them, hoping to put Tommy at ease. The young man
practically vibrated with tension. “You having any luck at the tables?”

  Tommy’s fleshy face sagged downward. “No luck. And the old man is riding my ass. He keeps arranging dates for me with showgirls and hookers, and he gets furious when I tell him I’m not interested. He’d have a heart attack if I told him I’d rather meet up with one of the male dancers in the shows.”

  “That would solve some problems,” David said. “The heart attack, I mean.”

  “I know what you mean. But he’s probably too mean to die. As soon as he got over the shock that a son of his swung the other way, he’d shoot me himself.”

  “Come back to Chicago with me, and nobody will care who you want to date,” David said.

  “What’s in it for you if I do?” Tommy asked. “You get a promotion or something?”

  “I get the satisfaction of knowing Frank Zacolli will be locked away for a lot of years to come.”

  “They won’t try to get the death penalty, will they?” Tommy patted his pockets as if looking for more cigarettes.

  “No.” He had no idea what the prosecutors would do, but he doubted the death penalty was on their agenda.

  “Okay. I hate the old man, but I don’t want his death on my conscience, you know?”

  David nodded. He resisted asking again if Tommy would come with him to Chicago. It didn’t pay to press too hard.

  “So tell me about this girl you’re with,” Tommy said.

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He didn’t like the idea of Laura being on Tommy’s radar. “My wife,” he said. “She doesn’t know anything about any of this. She thinks I’m a businessman.”

  Tommy laughed. “And my dad is just one of your associates? I heard he had her up to his place last night. After meeting him, if she thinks he’s some innocent grandpa, she must be dumber than she looks.”

  Laura wasn’t dumb, but he had to let Tommy think what he wanted.

  “How did you two meet, anyway?” Tommy found the packet of smokes and shook one out.

  “We met in Chicago.”

  “Where?”

  “None of your business.”