Calling Her Bluff (What Happens in Vegas)

by Kaia Danielle

  “You listen because I’m always right. And kudos for trying to pin this on me, but you and I both know I’m not to blame. Mari, you only do what you want to do. Although I’ll gladly take credit for this one.”

  “If sarcastic doesn’t suit me, being smug is even less attractive on you.”

  “Puh-lease. You’ve been living like a monk for the last three years. You write about romance but you’re scared to have any of your own. It isn’t healthy. You achieved a major accomplishment yesterday and you let yourself have a little fun. You’re a grown woman—there is no reason not to enjoy yourself as one. And you did it without having to gamble. That’s a big step forward. I’m proud of you.”

  Kamaria rolled her eyes. Her agent had her best interests at heart. She knew that. And she couldn’t blame her hottie hookup on anyone but herself. She’d wanted him. She’d pushed. He’d bit. Then nibbled. And sucked…

  Any guilt she felt was totally worth the last few hours she’d spent with Jack.

  The elevator stopped at Chastity’s floor. “Get out of here. Before you bust out into song.” She wouldn’t put it past Chastity to start belting out “the hills are alive with the afterglow of orgasms…” Wait, she totally needed to use that line in a book.

  Chastity stepped out of the elevator. “You’re going to beat yourself up about this now, aren’t you? Maybe I should come to the suite with you.”

  “No, I’m a big girl. I think I can manage a shower without running back downstairs for a hand of poker.” Kamaria jammed the button to close the door a few times. With her other hand, she shoved the poker chip back into her pocket. She was a grown woman. Damn it. What did it take to be treated like one again?

  “Call me if you need me—” The elevator doors shut in Chastity’s face.

  She pulled up the special calendar app on her phone. The tally count showed 1223 days. There had been times when she would drive as far as the halfway point between her home in Arizona and Las Vegas before she managed to talk herself into turning around. That’s how strong the urge to gamble again had become. In the early days of her battle against compulsive gambling, she’d sold her car because fighting off the urge to drive the 250-mile distance had become too hard.

  How was she going to fight it off when the casino was now one short elevator ride away?

  Chapter Two

  Jack Alderisi threw his phone onto the empty side of his bed. As if his day couldn’t get any worse…

  Ben had promised him he wouldn’t be needed to work security at the Masquerade this weekend, but there was some damn romance novel convention at the hotel. Horny women were supposedly running amuck throughout the casino chasing half-naked men. Half-naked people wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary for Sin City, but still…

  Now, Ben was begging him to come in for a “special assignment.” What kind of crap was that? Jack never should’ve answered the phone. He should’ve told the truth and said he’d had a very late night. Then he could’ve stayed in bed with the pretty, brown-eyed woman he had met—if only she hadn’t snuck out while he was sleeping. He should be hauling her back to his bed instead of dragging himself into the cramped security office.

  He was finally free of other people’s responsibilities in his life. He could indulge his own desires for once. Right now, he desired tracking down his missing wild woman. She hadn’t been wild in a swinging-from-the-ceiling kind of way, but he had found her bold, enjoy-the-moment-with-me-now approach insanely refreshing. He liked her combination of impulsive and sweet. She made him feel like it was okay to be impulsive. He needed more of that in his life. He had hoped to have more of that with her—for more than a few hours.

  Jack pushed himself into a sitting position. The movement made him see stars. He added “hangover” to his list of reasons why his day was going to suck as he made his way toward the bathroom. He felt a smooth, cool piece of fabric under his foot. He knelt down to inspect the dainty garment. His mouth tugged into a smile. She’d forgotten what was left of her panties. Where he came from, when a woman left something behind, it meant she wasn’t done with you yet. Jack entered the shower with a little more pep in his step. Maybe Fate was on his side for once.

  An hour later, he was still pondering his missing bed partner as he walked toward the security office. He recalled her saying something about a book. What were the odds that she was attending the convention at this hotel? Would she reappear if he had her unique name paged over the convention floor intercom? His musings ended when he heard Ben’s raised voice, “I’m sorry, ma’am. But it’s not that simple.”

  Jack stopped in his tracks and began inching his way back out. But Ben’s pleading eyes stopped him before he could get very far. Jack ran his fingers through his still damp hair.

  “You’re here. Great.” Ben’s desperate smile confirmed that Fate would definitely not be intervening where this “special assignment” was concerned. Ben never smiled. Jack really needed to stop being Mr. Always-Willing-To-Come-In-At-The-Last-Minute-Nice-Guy all the time.

  “What do you mean it’s not that simple?” The short, curvy woman seated before Ben jumped out of her chair and jammed her finger into Ben’s chest. “There are hordes of fans—and I’m being modest here—who have saved up their hard-earned dollars and cents to come and stay in this hotel just to meet their favorite authors. Nobody here wants national, and possibly international, attention on how the new darling of bestselling romance fiction has a gambling problem. This plan is the only way!”

  Ben backed away from the woman. “Ma’am, it’s not our job to babysit gambling addicts. She needs a ticket on the next bus out of town, not a babysitter.” Jack’s mouth went slack- jawed. Ben locked eyes with him. “Help me out here, man.”

  The curvy woman whipped around. A wicked smile curved her lips as she took in the sight of Jack. He didn’t like where this was going. If he ever did find his missing mystery woman again, he was tying her to the bed. “You are perfect. You look exactly like the cover model on her book. Are you free?”

  “Am I free to do what?” Jack folded his arms across his chest. Whatever Ben had been planning with this woman, it couldn’t be good.

  “You’d be my personal lifesaver.” The woman pointed a manicured fingernail at Jack. “I need you attached to my client’s side from now until she checks out on Sunday. Make sure she shows up where she’s supposed to be during the convention…” The woman cut a side-eye in Ben’s direction. “And keep her out of the casino.”

  “No.” Jack watched as both sets of eyes rounded in alarm.

  “B-but…” the woman sputtered.

  Jack shot Ben an angry look. True, Ben had once saved Jack’s life back when they were in the Marines. A favor he could never fully repay. But, Ben knew better than to drag him into some shit like this. “Honestly, what Ben told you is right. She has no business being in this city, much less this hotel.”

  “I agree with you. I tried to tell her to wait for another convention in another city. But she’s determined to prove to herself that she’s kicked the habit.” The woman’s eyes darted to the security monitors. Jack watched as her mouth flattened into a firm line. All the fire that had been in her eyes immediately fizzled out. “Dammit, she’s already on table four.”

  Jack’s head followed the woman’s pointed finger toward the monitor. The picture wasn’t clear but Jack knew one thing for sure. He recognized the slouching figure on the screen. Oh did he ever. His hand moved of its own accord into his suit jacket pocket, his fingers rubbing the scrap of satin.

  It looked like he’d be playing bodyguard this weekend. Fate had played Her hand. Luckily, he would be guarding the one body he wanted under his charge.

  “I’m out.” The puffed-up rapper wannabe across from her threw down his cards, shaking his head. Kamaria’s heartbeat thudded inside her rib cage. She bit her lip to stop the smile. The action was the lone visible crack she allowed in her poker face.

  “And the lady wins another five thousand!” Th
e breath she didn’t know she was holding whooshed out of her mouth. She threw the garbage that had been her hand—a pair of twos, a five of clubs, a four of spades and a queen—atop the pile of cards so the dealer could shuffle for the next round. She pressed her palm into her knee. With the other hand, she reached into her pocket and stroked her lucky poker chip. Whew. She still had the ovaries to play with the big boys—and win.

  Just one more win and then she could walk away. No, she would walk away. Really, that’s why she’d sat at the table in the first place. To prove to herself, to Chastity and anyone else who doubted her self-control that she could start and stop. That she could control herself. Problem was, this was the biggest gamble she could ever take, and any good player always knew when to fold ’em and walk away while she was ahead. Yeah, and if she was smart, she wouldn’t walk, she’d definitely run. The long-buried urge, the oh-so-tempting high of the game, clawed its way from deep within her. God, it was a rush. Being a winner was everything. One last hand and she was done.

  A hand dropped on her shoulder, causing her to jump. The sudden movement yanked Kamaria back to the here and now. She saw the last 1223 days fade into nothing. Her hangover headache started pounding behind her eyes with a vengeance. What the hell was she doing?

  Oh God, what had she done?

  “Ma’am, I need you to come with me.”

  Shame kept her locked in place, eyes down, trembling hands locked between her knees. She stared at the backs of her fingers, fighting that itch to touch her chips, the cards, to rub the felt of the poker table. Dammit, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Ma’am.” The voice was softer now.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.” The words were meant to convince herself. There might be a pile of chips in front of her, but she felt like a loser. Again.

  “No one said you did.” The man’s hand now found its way between her shoulder blades. The warmth of his hand flooded into her. His warmth felt safe. Just like the guy from last night. She shook him off again. The last thing she needed was to be thinking about Jack. Or how she should’ve stayed in his bed. If she hadn’t run from him, she wouldn’t be here now.

  “My associate Ben will take care of your chips for you. He’ll have your winnings and the paperwork ready for you by the time we’re done talking.”

  His voice was too smooth. Too practiced. Too, too familiar. Kamaria didn’t like that either. She didn’t even want the money. No amount of winnings could compensate for what she’d just lost by sitting down at this table. And talk? What could he possibly want to discuss? “I’ve got nothing to say to you. I was just leaving anyway.”

  The pressure on her back returned, this time more insistent. “That’s where you’re wrong, Kamaria. I think you have plenty to say to me.”

  She could tell by his emphasis on her name that he was going to kick her out. She’d ruined her sobriety, and now she’d messed up the conference too! She felt tears rim her bottom lashes. She willed herself to keep her chin up as she stood. This was no way to start her week at the convention. She had managed to stay away for so long. She hadn’t even been in town sixteen hours and had already crumbled in the face of weakness more than once. All the promises she made to Chastity—to herself—about being able to avoid the casino evaporated into nothing. She should have never come back here.

  The rent-a-cop’s hand had now moved from her back to her arm. His grip tightened slightly, pulling her to her feet. The motion made her drop her lucky chip. She began to kneel but he was quicker. He snatched up her chip before she could retrieve it.

  “Hey, that’s mine. That chip doesn’t belong to the casino. It’s special.”

  Her stomach fell to her knees the moment the security jerk stood up so she could finally get a good look at him. The big, big body. The impossibly wide chest. Those full lips. Kamaria groaned. “Oh no, not you.”

  “Not another word.” By now, Jack’s hand was on her arm. His grip tight.

  “Hey!” She tried to jerk away from him again.

  “In my office. Now.” Jack all but yanked her to his side.

  Ben gave Jack the side-eye as he finished scooping the rest of her chips from the table. “Hey man, you don’t have to rough her up like that. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  Jack held up a finger as he started to walk away with the woman in tow. Worming their way through the crowded floor, the height difference between them was more apparent now than when they had been in bed. His six feet and five inches to her…maybe five foot two. How in the hell had they fit together so well? It was a miracle he hadn’t crushed her.

  “Look, had I known you worked here, I would’ve never…”

  Jack stopped in front of the service door at the back of the casino. He stopped himself just short of shoving her against the wall. The one time he allowed himself an after-work drink… The one night he decided to cozy up to a stranger. To take the offer thrown at him. He never loosened up like that. It might be Vegas, but his days of partying hookups were long behind him. But there had been something about this woman. Her personality, her blunt attitude, the way she’d wax poetic about something and then curse like a sailor. She’d made him want to take a leap for once. Oh, they’d taken the leap, all right. Straight into the fire.

  “You would’ve what?” he muttered. “Not had the best orgasm of your life? Save it, honey.”

  He tugged her through the open doorway. A few turns along the nondescript hallways and they were in the security office. Jack pointed at the beat-up office chair. “Sit.”

  He handed her the crumpled panties from his pocket. “I believe these belong to you.”

  She bit her lip as she took the garment from him. She looked up at him with those eyes. Those big, rounded eyes that had sucker-punched him in the gut the night before. Despite this disastrous turn of events, Jack still wanted her. He shook it off. “I’m not falling for that puppy-dog-eyed shit again. Spill your story.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but Jack cut her off. “The real story. All of it.” Did he have a right to interrogate her? To haul her fine ass through the casino like she was some common card-shark or hustler? Well, no. But if he had any hope of helping her, of dealing with the next couple of days, she’d have to give it to him straight. His old man had had a gambling problem, too. Pussy-footing around his problem hadn’t helped him in the end.

  “You owe me that much,” he said. He searched her face for a sign that he had affected her as much as she affected him. Her blank expression hit him like a sledgehammer. Damn.

  The woman finally plopped herself down on the chair. She fiddled with the strings on her hoodie for a moment, then sighed. “My name is Kamaria Wilson. I like to gamble.”

  Jack jammed his eyes shut. The hope he’d been holding in his lungs deflated. It really was going to be a long day. “Fine, you’re a gambling addict.”

  “I didn’t say I was an addict. I might play too much sometimes. I’m not so out of control that I’d mortgage the house. But I do admit that I have a problem knowing when to stop.”

  At least she recognized she had a problem. That was good, right? His old man had lived in constant denial, gambling away their home and any hopes of his kids going to college. The only reason Jack had started picking up shifts at the Masquerade was so he could pay for his little sister’s college tuition.

  Kamaria ran her fingers through her twisted hair. She looked so defeated, Jack almost wanted to wrap her in his arms again. Almost.

  “I didn’t want to go in there today,” she whispered. “I hadn’t played a hand in over three years. But I have to be at a convention here this weekend. So I found the one bar in this town that didn’t have any gambling in it. And then my agent called and said I hit the New York Times bestseller list. I wanted to celebrate, but the only way I know how to party involves gambling. I felt like such a loser. And then you started talking to me and we had that connection. So I did that, that whole thing with you last night instead. What can I say? Between you
being so friggin’ hot and…nice, and my having to be here, you made me feel safe.”

  “I made you feel safe?” Jack repeated. “That’s why you snuck out of my bed?”

  He paced in front of her chair. What he wouldn’t give to be back at that dingy bar away from all this casino shit. Yeah, he shouldn’t have ever answered Ben’s call this morning. His home renovation business was taking off. His sister was graduating from college in a few weeks. He didn’t need the extra money from this gig anymore. But if he hadn’t answered, he wouldn’t have found her again.

  If only he hadn’t been so out of his mind over this woman. The sex had been phenomenal. And he had held her close afterward, her head tucked on his chest as she snuggled so tight it was as if she couldn’t get close enough. Sure, their connection had been unconventional and unexpected, but he’d closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her thinking when they woke up, maybe, just maybe, they could see where things might go. That weak-ass thought flew right out the window when the woman literally flew out of his bed.

  “I’m not responsible for you sitting down at that poker table, Kamaria.” No, if she’d stayed where she belonged—in bed with him—she wouldn’t have fallen off the wagon, and he wouldn’t be playing savior for another addict. “I’d only approached you to make sure you were okay. You were the one hitting on me with the nightcap offer.”

  “You’re gorgeous. A nice guy who knows how to use his tongue. What woman wouldn’t get weak?” Her mouth curved into a shy smile. “Don’t let the tongue part go to your head. Either one of them.”

  Too late. Jack smiled anyway. Dammit, the last thing he wanted her to know was that she amused him. Maybe even embarrassed him a little. Not that he would tell her that. But he never could hide his emotions. Everyone said his face was like an open book.

  “If you had such a great time, why did you leave?”

  Her expression blanched from toasty bronze to chalky brown. She gulped. Now she was the one who looked embarrassed.