“Do you always drink mineral water and lime?”
She nodded her head. “Alcohol gives me a headache.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted Saratoga water, even though we sell a great deal of it.”
Feeling daring, Lotus offered him her glass.
He accepted, turning the container until he was drinking from the same spot that she had. Sipping, he watched her, the blood fluctuating in her face. It satisfied him that he could disconcert her. At least she wasn’t indifferent to him! The fact that he cared so much bothered him and he literally stiffened in his chair.
“What is it? Have you a headache?” Lotus noticed the deep scowl on his face that had appeared suddenly—and had just as quickly disappeared.
He looked at her. “It’s nothing. Let’s dance.” He rose to his feet and came around to help her from the chair.
As she led the way to the dance floor, his eyes seemed to fix on the flowing motion of her hips and legs. She doesn’t walk, she floats, he thought.
Later when he was walking with her through the casino to his office and all the clubs were closing, she paused in front of the gaming rooms, which never closed. “Do they ever go home?” “Some don’t seem to have a home.” He gave a hard laugh. “Not that I’m complaining. A man lost a million, seventy-five thousand at a twenty-hour session of baccarat last month.”
“You’re joking.” Lotus choked. That made her uncle’s so-called debts of a half a million dollars, in this casino and in the Xanadu in Atlantic City, seem almost natural. At least it hadn’t taken place in just one day! “What size installment payments does he have?”
“None, love.” Dash led her down the hall to his office, unlocking it with his key.
Lotus felt crimson from head to toe as she stood in front of the office door. It embarrassed her :hat she had broken into his files. Fear that he would discover that she had done it before she could copy the file and return it to its rightful place filled her as she watched him “He wrote a check for the entire amount, and we deposited it in our bank the next day. We didn’t expect it to bounce, and it didn’t.”
“I see.” She tried to smile at him as she walked past him into his office. She faced him. “I really should go, and it’s no problem for me to ride my bike. I ride at night all the time.”
“No,” he rasped, glaring at her, fear filling him at what could happen to her if some creep stopped her. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I’ll drive you from now on when you work at night. You ride your bike when you work in the daylight hours only. If you work at night, I’ll drive you home.”
Lotus could feel her mouth drop open. “Don’t be silly. I usually work at night and I always use my bike.”
“Not anymore.” He pulled a lightweight cotton pullover from a closet. Then before she could blink, he had dropped his trousers and hung them on a hanger on a portable valet near the closet. He grinned at her. “You’re blushing again, love. Haven’t you ever seen a man undress?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have two brothers.”
He would have bet the casino that she hadn’t seen any men undress in front of her. What brought an innocent young woman to Las Vegas to work? The thought caught in his brain like a burr until he shook it loose. He would think about that some other time. The best news, he thought, was that if she ever did sleep with that fiance of hers, it wasn’t more than once or twice; otherwise, she wouldn’t have looked so uncomfortable when he changed his trousers and shirt in front of her. “It’s not as though I’ve stripped down to the buff, Lotus, is it?”
“Not as if you’ve stripped to the buff,” she echoed him, feeling her stiff lips lift in a smile. God, he was beautiful. Even if she never saw another man peeled down, she would know that she had seen the best there was in physiques when she looked at the man in front of her. She blinked, trying to clear the picture of him from her head. ‘Ready?”
“Ready.” He slipped on the cotton pullover, hooked a blazer over his shoulder, and led her out of the room. When she would have turned left, he urged her right. “This is the way to where the car is parked.”
“But my bike is this way,” Lotus explained.
“Not to worry.” Dash backtracked to his office, unlocked the door, and went over to the phone on the desk. He punched out a few numbers, then barked instructions into the instrument. “There,” he said after he hung up. “The bike will be locked up until tomorrow.”
“But, don’t do that,” Lotus sputtered. “That’s my transportation in the morning.”
“I’ll pick you up,” Dash said soothingly. “Not to worry.” He was leading her to the parking lot as they spoke.
“And do you want to get up at five and ferry me over to Mac’s cafe for the early shift?” Lotus expostulated, trying to loosen his grip from her upper arm.
Dash stopped dead, his eyes narrowed in fury on her. “Why do you work there?”
"Because I get breakfast that way and the few tips I get help keep the Reaper away,” Lotus snapped back. “Now, do we get my bike?”
He continued to walk and she followed. “No, I’ll drive you home, then I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at four-thirty."
“Four-thirty . . . Lotus wheezed, thinking about the two alarms clocks needed to wake her at five, so that she could be at the cafe, one block away, at five-thirty. “I don’t need to get up half an hour early.” “You can at least jog with me as long I’m taking you to work, then waiting to bring you to Cicero’s.” “Waiting?” Lotus gasped.
“Of course. How else would you get to work?” He helped her into the passenger side of the car.
She had taken no notice of the car until she was inside of it. “Goodness. Is this a Ferrari?”
“Yes.” His teeth gleamed in the dark interior of the car.
“Marvelous.”
“Would you like to drive it someday?”
“Is the pope Catholic?” Lotus muttered.
Dash laughed. “Fine. The next time we go out . . . which will be . . .” He shot his left hand in front of him for a moment to look at his watch. “. . . This evening I will let you take the wheel.” “We don’t have a date for tomorrow,” Lotus ventured.
Dash lifted one hand from the steering wheel and placed it on her knee. “Yes, we do, love.” He pressed a switch and a tape player slid into view.
The music combined with the flashing lights of Las Vegas had a soporific effect, and Lotus felt the weightlessness that comes between consciousness and sleep.
“Lotus,” Dash whispered. “You’ll have to give me more directions.”
“Huh? Oh, yes, turn left, then right, then to the end of the street. It’s the large white house. I live on the fourth floor.”
Dash’s car quickly made the trip, then he parked it in front of the house. “You live on the fourth floor?”
“Yes. I have a room. It’s cheap. Of course I hate going down to the third floor to shower and use the bathroom.” Lotus clamped her lips closed. She was chattering to him again.
“I don’t see a fire escape.”
“There’s a rickety one in the back. I tried it, and it’s a scary trip down, but I think it will hold me.” “You think?”
“Yes.” She stared at him. “You’re grinding your teeth.”
“Am I?” He exhaled a shaky breath. “This is no place for you.”
“It’s fine.” She didn’t tell him that she wasn’t staying in Las Vegas long enough to worry about her accommodations, just long enough to get a copy of that file. . . . “Oh no ...” Lotus groaned aloud, remembering that she wouldn’t be able to get the file copied if Dash was going to be on her tail every minute. How could she get in touch with Petras and get him to pick up the folder?
“What’s wrong, love? Did you forget something at the casino?”
“Ah, yes, that’s as good as any . . .” Lotus answered, distracted, her mind churning with the problem.
Dash came around to the passenger side of the car, opened the door, and leaned in, his face having a lo
ok of wary amusement. “And what do you mean by that remark, love?”
“Huh?” Lotus bent her head back to look up at him. “What did I say?” Then she remembered. Trying to fight the blush she knew was creeping up her neck, she smiled at him, noticing that his face was all silver angles and planes in the shadowy light from the interior of the car. “I was thinking about copies,” she told him, which was true. “Some of my customers like two or three of a frame. I was hoping I marked them correctly.” That was not the truth. She had marked the negatives as carefully as she always did, the moment they were developed and dried, notching the edge of the negative to indicate how many copies.
“I see.” Dash almost lifted her out of the car. He didn’t believe her. His angel was lying! She’s holding out on me! But why and about what?
He walked her up to the front door. “It’s been a while since I kissed a girl good night on a front porch,” he drawled.
She would bet a check on that, Lotus mused. No doubt he just follows them inside and to bed. Not tonight! “Quaint custom,” she said out loud as she opened the squeaky screen door that sagged on its hinges.
Dash frowned at the obvious neglect of the house. “I don’t like you staying here.”
“You’re repeating yourself.” Lotus dared to reach up and touch his nose with her index finger.
“Brat,” he rasped, leaning over her, then lifting her straight up his body, so that her feet dangled several inches off the floor.
“Not true. You said I’m beautiful.” Lotus had never been so outspoken, so open with anyone.
“Yes. You’re a beautiful brat.” His mouth grazed hers, then fastened. The kiss lengthened and deepened.
Lotus had the sensation of being in a free-fall from the planet Venus.
CHAPTER TWO
To Lotus the next three days were kaleidoscopic chaos. She and Dash were together every waking minute. She had to pinch herself many times to remind herself exactly why she was here—that she had a mission to accomplish in Las Vegas. She felt guilty about putting Petras and her mission on the back burner. She knew she had to get the file to him. He would be worried sick since Lotus had insisted he not get in touch with her, that it was safer for her to contact him. She had to find the time to get the file to him, but somehow Dash’s image kept getting in the way.
Finally on Friday, when she was finishing up a morning stint at Mac’s cafe, she looked over to the corner of the counter where Dash always sat waiting for her. She walked around and down the narrow aisle behind the counter to pause in front of him and smile while filling his coffee cup. The coffee was one of the things at Mac’s that made the trip into the diner worthwhile. “Dash, I have to work another hour. Mac asked me if I would, and since I don’t start my stint at the casino until eleven, I said yes. . . .”
“Why did you do that? You work hard enough the three hours you’re here,” he said, leaning over and taking her hand to his lips. “I saw the grease spatter hit your hand.”
“Cool water and baking soda took care of it.’ Lotus felt breathless as she often did these days. It happened whenever Dash looked at her, grinned at her, touched her, kissed her. The list was endless and none of Lotus’s hard-and-fast reasons for being sensible seemed to change the status quo. “Didn’t you say that you had an important meeting at nine-thirty this morning?” Lotus quizzed, trying to regulate her heartbeat by taking deep breaths.
“Yes, but I’ll put it off. . .”
“No.” She put her hand on his lips, feeling his mouth move against her fingers. “I’ll ride my bike. It’s a lovely day. The sun is shining, there’s a breeze. And I need the exercise.”
Dash watched her for a moment. “I don’t like you being out on the highway—”
“Bike path,” she interrupted him.
“Whatever,” he said, snarling, not losing his scowl when she chuckled. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” “I promise.”
He shot out his hand to look at his wrist watch. “I should get to that meeting.” Concern made a muscle jump at the side of his mouth. God, even in that simple, starchy waitress outfit she was wearing, she looked adorable. “All right. I’ll meet you and we’ll lunch at one.”
“Fine.” Lotus almost collapsed when he leaned over the Formica counter and kissed her full on the mouth.
“See you later, darling.”
“Yes,” Lotus promised not even noticing when another customer called to her.
At the end of an hour she left the cafe, feeling greasy, the odors of pancakes and eggs filling her nostrils. “First I’ll ride over to Petras’s shop, then I’ll go home and take a quick shower . . . she muttered to herself as she pedaled down the street to a more trafficked thoroughfare where the honking and screeching of the cars seemed to go right through her.
After traveling the ten blocks to Petras’s camera shop, she parked her bike in the stand out front and went in the store, the bell over the door announcing her.
“I’ll be right there,” a voice said from a speaker placed in front of a curtained door leading to the back room.
Lotus knew it was Petras’s habit to keep his cash box in the back room and his display case locked while he was in the back. She heard the whir of his wheelchair just moments before he came through the curtain. “Hi, friend,” she greeted him.
Lotus! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. I’ve tried to call three times, and the third time I called you were so mysterious. Weren’t you able to get the file?”
“You weren’t supposed to call.” She tried to smile at the man who had been more like another brother to her. “I have it.” She patted her tote 'I’ve been carrying it around in here for three days."
“What?” Petras looked up at her. “Are you crazy? If anyone at the casino discovers that file missing His lips compressed as he looked at her. Richard has been very concerned about you
too. You haven’t been in contact with him either. My God, girl, do you know what could come down on you if anyone at Cicero’s suspected?”
“They won’t,” Lotus said with more confidence than she felt. Now that she knew Dash better she was sure that he was tougher than either Richard or Petras had even guessed, but she didn’t dare tell Petras that she had been in such close contact with the man he considered to be so dangerous. She wondered if he knew that Dash was sexually dangerous as well. She shook herself to clear her mind. She had to concentrate on the job at hand.
“Do you think you’ll be able to copy it for me, so that I could get it back by tomorrow?” She pulled the folder from her bag. “I haven’t had a chance to do anything more than glance at it, but this is the Sinclair file. I hope we can discover something.” Petras snatched it from her hand and wheeled his chair around with the agility of long use. “Put the sign in the window. I’m going to copy this now.” He glared at her. “And I don’t want you to return this to Colby’s office. I want you to slip it under the door or leave it where someone will find it. You could even get it to Richard and let him return it. I don’t want you involved in this any longer. Do you understand me?”
“But, Petras, I . . .”
“No buts, Lotus. This has gotten out of hand. Gamblers can play rough, and from what I understand of Colby, he is one tough cookie. He was in Vietnam like me, but he was a Huey pilot not infantry like Rob or me. . . .” Petras referred to her brother, Robert Sinclair, who had fought beside Petras in Vietnam and carried him back to their lines when Petras had been wounded. “Those
Huey pilots had the chutzpah of Satan himself. They flew those things right into the enemy guns. They would land and pick up our guys with the Vietcong breathing right down their necks. They had more than guts, Lotus; they had a Viking’s flirtation with death. Are you getting the picture?”
Lotus nodded, biting her lip. More and more she realized that Petras mustn’t ever know how involved she had become with Dash. She coughed, trying to smile. “Has the business been doing well?”
Petras stared at her another moment the
n nodded. “Better than even I expected. Martha has been doing the books for me now that the kids are in school. I owe your family a great deal, Lotus doll.”
It had been her father who had insisted on starting Petras in his camera and film business in Las Vegas. Petras was devoted to her family, and though Lotus had sworn him to secrecy, she had no doubt that he would get in touch with her brothers if he thought there was any chance of her being in danger.
“Lotus, if I hadn’t given my word that I would help you in your scheme and keep silent, I would get Rob out here to shag you back to Rochester,” Petras iterated sternly as though he had been reading her mind.
Lotus smiled at him weakly, and followed him back to the big copying machine in the back room. "No need to do that. I intend to go home to Rochester as soon as possible.” She sighed. “I was thinking that now might be the time to go to New York to try my luck as a photographer there.” Lotus shrugged. “I always said I would do that.”
The words dribbled away as though they had no substance. Is that my escape from Dash Colby ?
Petras’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong, Lotus?”
She shook her head, forcing a smile. What would he say if she told him that she thought she was in love, not only with a gambling man, but with the one who ran the business?
“Feeling a little smothered working in the family business? You’ve worked at Sinclair’s since you were a teen-ager.”
“That could be it,” Lotus offered.
“I thought Rob told me you were dating Jeremy?” “Now and then, but it’s nothing serious.” Lotus said no more, but she knew by Petras’s scrutiny that he was trying to read her expression. She knew she was going to tell Jeremy she couldn’t continue to see him when she returned home. How could she even date one man when she couldn’t stop thinking about another? It wouldn’t be fair to Jeremy or to her, and that’s what she would tell him. “How are Martha and the kids?” “Jeannie has a strep throat, and it looks like Kevin might come down with it. Other than that we’re doing well. Stop trying to put me off, Lotus doll.” Petras positioned the first paper of the file on the copier, pushed down the top, locked it, and pressed a button. He used a nickname her brothers had called her when she had been a baby. “You’re like a kid sister to me, and I won’t have you getting yourself into trouble. Now promise me you’ll get rid of this file as quickly as possible, and you won’t endanger yourself.” He patted her hand. “And Martha wants you to come to dinner.”
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