Not-So-Secret Baby

by Jo Leigh

  The minimum they had to bank was five million, at least at Todd’s hotel. Granted, Xanadu was as ritzy as it got in Vegas, but most of the major hotels had similar limits. Whales cost big money. But there was one basic fact about Las Vegas: casinos were not in the business of making gamblers rich. Anyone who thought different ought to check out the trailer parks on Main. Most of the decrepit mobile homes had doors. Some had windows. Not many.

  Whales, on the other hand, had money to burn. At least, that’s how they acted when they came to his turf. It was like something out of an old Russian novel how these people got treated. It started with the private jet, the limo, the personal butler, the multimillion-dollar private suite complete with grand piano, twenty-four-hour massage service, personal swimming pool, personal chef. The list went on and on. If one of Todd’s whales wanted a purple elephant, he’d get one.

  But there were whales and there were whales. This one, the one coming in at noon, had to be a mark in the billions, because Todd was stingy with his toys. Xanadu had a fleet of ten stretch limos for the customers. Todd’s personal limo put them all to shame.

  Personally, Nick hated driving the monstrosity. It was huge, longer than a normal stretch, and white. Inside and out. He especially hated the button in the back that let the passenger speak to the driver. The reverb crap on the mike altered the sound so it sounded like the voice of God telling the peon behind the wheel to stop at the Indian smoke shop to pick up cigarettes.

  He was, of course, expected to act like Jeeves, which unfortunately wasn’t that much of a stretch from how he was expected to act around the boss. Although Todd wasn’t particularly hung up on the words. “Sir” was good, but not essential. “Very good, sir,” was over-the-top. The important thing to Todd was that when he said jump, his employees already knew how high. Todd didn’t give second chances.

  Nick put on his lightweight black suit, the one that made him look more like a mortician than a chauffeur. His shirt was silk, the tie Hermès. When you worked for C. Randall Todd, you dressed the part.

  He took a final look in the mirror, satisfied that he would pass muster, then he headed out. He lived on the fortieth floor of the hotel, the floor below the really expensive suites. It had taken getting used to, living in a place like this, but it had its advantages. Housekeeping was one. He just had to make sure he put everything important in his room safe. There was no doubt in his mind that Todd had the staff search the rooms on a regular basis. Paranoia was the word of the year around Xanadu, and Nick was just as guilty as anyone else. Todd’s basic belief was that everyone was out to get him, including his own family. Probably why he was as successful as he was.

  The man was worth billions. And not only from his gaming and hotel interests. He was also incredibly pow erful in the military surveillance business. That little sideline had begun fifteen years ago, when Todd’s first hotel had hosted an arms show.

  The El Rio had been his maiden venture into the world of Vegas, but the relatively small hotel had outlived its usefulness and was scheduled for destruction. As with everything else in Sin City, the event was being made into a spectacle. Like the Dunes, the Sands and the original Aladdin, the El Rio was going to be imploded. On the Fourth of July, no less.

  In its place, Todd planned another luxury hotel, this one smaller but even more exclusive than the Xanadu. It would make the Belagio look like a Motel 6.

  Nick got to the elevator and pressed the button, his gaze moving from the ornate flower arrangements on the antique tables to the mirrors on the walls. He did look as though he was about to get into a hearse. At least he wasn’t required to wear a damn hat.

  The elevator doors opened and he got in, expecting a long, slow ride down. There were express elevators in the hotel, but not from his floor. He amused himself by counting the stops on the way to the lobby. Six. He always left about ten minutes early to accommodate.

  Finally he reached the basement level. He’d go to the employee’s lounge and grab something to eat. Then he’d be on his way. He wanted the airport run over quickly so he could get back. Todd had canceled one important meeting this afternoon with Steve Wynn, but he hadn’t canceled his appointment with Rafe Shaharid, one of his major customers. Everything about the meet ing was legal, at least on the surface. But Nick had a feeling there was something more going on.

  He had no intention of being left out of the loop on this one. It could be big. Real big.

  NICK PARKED THE LIMO on the tarmac and got out. Todd’s Gulfstream IV was already here, just shutting down. Nick straightened his jacket and waited for the passenger to disembark.

  The jet door opened and the attendant stepped out first. Gina was her name, and she was as beautiful as any of the showgirls at the hotel. She was a favorite of Todd’s and Nick knew for a fact that she offered more than coffee and tea whenever the boss was on board.

  Another woman stepped onto the platform and Nick stopped breathing.

  What in hell was she doing back?

  Chapter Two

  Nick pulled himself together as it registered that it really was Jenny. He would have known her anywhere. God, how many times had he thought he’d seen her in a restaurant or at a gas station? How many nights had she haunted his dreams…?

  She’d come back. If he hadn’t seen her with his own eyes, he’d never have believed it.

  She walked down the metal ladder to the tarmac, a purse over her shoulder, an overnight case in her hand. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, as if she’d thrown it up in a hurry. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but the thin line of her lips telegraphed her anxiety.

  His gaze moved down the rest of her, the long, slender body he’d known too briefly. She seemed awfully thin, fragile. He’d always thought of her as fragile, though.

  Her jeans were worn Levi’s, her shirt plain white, short-sleeved, pressed. None of the designer clothes she’d worn when he’d known her before. Why in hell was she back? Surely she wasn’t going to hook up with Todd again. Hadn’t she had enough?

  He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She’d been scared. No, terrified. As he had with every other possession, Todd had held on to her with an iron fist. She’d had to plan an escape, as daring as any prison break. Like a fool, Nick had helped her, putting everything he had on the line. He should have stayed out of it. But the welts on her back, the bruises on her legs…

  She said something to Gina, then turned his way, walked as if each step cost her, which, if she was headed back to the Xanadu, was sickeningly true.

  He opened the back door of the limo, took his place beside it. Waited as she got closer. Wondered…

  She stopped about twenty-five yards from the car. Her mouth opened slightly as she recognized him. With a slow hand, she took off her dark sunglasses.

  Where she’d looked anxious a moment ago, he now saw surprise furrow her brow. She hadn’t expected him. Was she pleased? Embarrassed?

  Moving forward again, her gaze moved down to the tarmac until she was even with the front of the limo. “Nick,” she said, her voice bringing back memories he’d just as soon forget.

  “I never expected to see you again.”

  She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again he saw a hardness that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen her. “Things change.”

  “Yeah,” he said. He took her overnight bag, like the good little chauffeur that he was, then helped her into the cavernous back seat, startled at how she nearly disappeared against the white of the interior.

  He put her bag in the trunk, then got in behind the wheel. The moment he turned on the engine, the bullet-proof Plexiglas that separated the wheat from the chaff lowered a few inches. Not enough for him to see more than the top of her pale blond head, but enough for him to hear her.

  “How have you been?” she asked.

  “Me? Swell. In fact, I haven’t had to be a driver for over a year, with the obvious exception of this trip. I’m moving up the food chain.”

  “I
see,” she said, although he knew she didn’t see at all.

  “What brings you back to sunny Las Vegas? Come to see the new Celine Dion theater?”

  She didn’t answer until he’d reached St. Rose Parkway, heading toward 15. “I see you’ve still got that charming wit.”

  He glanced in the rearview, but she was staring out her window, hidden once more behind her sunglasses. “I just do what I’m told,” he said. “Keep my nose clean.”

  He heard her sigh, and for a moment he felt bad. But only for a moment. She’d gotten away once. He doubted she’d get away again. The woman knew who Todd was, had seen what he could do. And still, she’d come back. Probably for the money. Wasn’t that always the bottom line?

  Hell, she’d never had it so good as when she belonged to Todd. She’d been a cocktail waitress working her way through U.N.L.V. when Todd had found her. He’d fallen hard from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her and he’d pursued her with his unique brand of determination. Jenny had been all of twenty-one when he’d begun his campaign. Todd’d treated her like a queen, taking her to the best shows, the finest restaurants. They’d traveled a lot in the jet and he’d even set her up with her own suite at Xanadu. Right down the hall from his.

  Nick had been an errand boy back then. He’d just started with the organization and was learning the ropes when he’d been assigned as her driver and bodyguard.

  Nick had been attracted to her from the start. Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t just her looks, although they would have been enough, but Jenny was bright, funny and had a sweetness about her that made him think of his childhood in Wichita. Todd had him watch her like a hawk, not the least bit afraid that Nick would take advantage of the situation. A man would have to be an idiot to touch Todd’s woman.

  But during that time Nick had come to know her. He’d understood how she’d found herself in a situation she’d been woefully unprepared to handle. By the time she’d figured it all out, it had been too late. A captive in a glitter palace, she was subject to Todd’s capriciousness and vile temper. That’s why Nick had helped her. Because she’d been a victim. This time, she was walking in of her own free will. She probably thought she had good reasons, but as far as he could tell, no reason could be good enough for someone like Jenny to walk back into the lion’s den.

  A soft mechanical whir made him look back just in time to see the window go up, locking them each in their own compartments. He wished she would move so he could see her more clearly in the rearview. But maybe she didn’t want to be seen.

  He kept his eyes on the road. She wasn’t his affair. Messing with Jenny Granger was a surefire way to get himself killed.

  JENNY LEANED HER HEAD back against the plush white leather of the limo seat. She knew Todd wouldn’t hurt Patrick, but the knowledge didn’t make things easier. There were only three things she loved in this whole world. Her mother. Her son. And the man in the front seat.

  At least, she’d thought she’d loved him.

  She stared out the window at the familiar landscape. Here, in Henderson, the city looked like any other. There was the Super Kmart, the 99-Cent store, the dry cleaner’s. Of course, other cities didn’t have casinos every few blocks or video poker in the grocery stores. But lives were led here that weren’t connected to the massive gaming industry. Kids went to school, mothers drove in car pools.

  She hadn’t seen her own mother in more than two years. Like someone in the Witness Security Program, she’d cut off her ties to the past, because she’d known Todd would stop at nothing to find her. She still couldn’t figure out how her cover had been blown. She’d been meticulous in her deception, covering every base. She had a birth certificate and social security card, both in the name of Mary Pierson. She’d moved to Milford knowing Todd had never heard of the place and that she had no ties to the tiny city whatsoever.

  So where had she slipped up? She shook her head. What difference did it make? He’d found her. Discovered Patrick. And now, she was sure, he’d demand his pound of flesh.

  She’d done the one thing Todd couldn’t tolerate—she’d tricked him. She’d run off with no warning and no word. Risked everything. He hadn’t known she was pregnant. But he had decided to marry her. In those last few weeks, she’d been witness to Todd’s astonishing ego, his taste for luxury and glitz.

  No one belonged in Las Vegas more than C. Randall Todd. He was the epitome of conspicuous consumption, and for Todd more was not enough. Nothing was enough. God, the money he’d spent on her. She could have lived for a year in Milford on the diamond he’d given her for their first month anniversary. If she’d taken it with her. She hadn’t. She hadn’t wanted anything of his, no matter how high the resale value. He was the most purely evil man she’d ever met.

  Stupid, stupid and naive. She’d never believed anyone could be that evil, not in the flesh. She’d been so blind, so trusting. There was no one to blame but herself, and now Patrick was in the bastard’s clutches.

  She would not cry. Her gaze moved back to the man behind the wheel. Big mistake.

  Nick Mason. The one bright light in what had been the worst year of her life. Yes, he’d been a part of Todd’s machine, but he wasn’t like the others. Not like Henry Sweet, Todd’s right-hand man who frightened her almost as much as Todd himself. No, Nick had been human toward her, even kind. For a long time she’d even thought he’d felt more. It didn’t matter. He’d helped her escape despite the terrible risk.

  She’d tried to convince him to leave, too, but he’d been stubborn. Adamant that staying with Todd would ensure his future, even though he knew the kind of man Todd was. But he’d clearly succumbed to Todd’s philosophy: get what you want, no matter who it hurt or what it cost. The moment she’d seen Nick’s face she realized whatever tenderness he’d felt for her had evolved into something bitter and harsh. What she hadn’t counted on was how much that realization would hurt.

  He must know that Todd had Patrick. How could he possibly be a part of that? She yearned to ask him about it, to find out if her boy was okay, but she knew better. The limo was undoubtedly bugged. Todd never let an opportunity pass to trip someone up. If she said the wrong thing, it could cost her more than she could afford.

  Clearly the years had not been kind to Nick, at least on the inside. The facade had held up, though. Time hadn’t changed the fact that he was the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

  His dark hair was shorter, parted on the side, debonair with just a hint of gray at the temples. He had that damn cleft in his chin that had held her fascination for countless hours. He had thick, expressive eyebrows designed to bring attention to his amazing eyes. His body still made her think of tightly coiled strength, powerful beneath the silk shirt, the elegantly simple suit.

  He’d worked his looks to his advantage, knowing he projected the perfect image of a high-powered, sophisticated big wheel. Just as Xanadu was the most opulent hotel casino in Vegas, the people closest to the man had to look like a million bucks 24/7. The only time she’d seen Nick out of a designer suit was when he’d jogged in the morning. And when he’d lain naked in her bed.

  She shifted her gaze, unwilling to think about that time. Even though the repercussions continued to reverberate, it was history. She’d cut herself off from any part of Todd’s world long ago, and this nightmare didn’t change anything. She’d find a way to escape again. And to take her boy with her.

  Looking down, it occurred to her that she wouldn’t be wearing her jeans again, not while she was here. Todd had always wanted her to be as elegantly dressed as his staff. More so. It had taken her too long to understand that one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted to let her go was that she looked like a cross between a showgirl and a schoolteacher. She’d been every bit as much a showpiece as the diamonds and the designer gowns he’d had her wear.

  She caught Nick’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He’d donned sunglasses, but his expression was hard as stone. Why? What had she done to him? More to the point, what kind of a horror
story had Todd concocted to taint her?

  She’d been so sure that beneath Nick’s facade beat a good heart; held that notion close through almost three long years of isolation and strain. But now that she’d seen him again, she knew it had all been smoke and mirrors. She didn’t really love him. She’d just built an elab orate fantasy out of loneliness and fear. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t make her feel any better.

  She not only ached with worry for her baby, but the slender thread of hope that she’d have someone on her side had snapped when she’d first seen Nick. She was on her own. Which would have been okay if it hadn’t been for Patrick. What kind of life would he have under the wing of such a vicious hawk?

  Her eyes filled with hot tears and though she tried to blink them back, it was no use. Watching the Strip grow larger as they sped down the freeway turned the nightmare into reality.

  Never before, not the whole time she’d been in Milford, had she felt so alone. Her wet gaze moved back to Nick, to his tense shoulders, his hand gripping the steering wheel. All the way to Las Vegas she’d staved off hysteria by thinking about Nick. Once again, she’d proved to herself that she was nothing more than a naive fool. Wrong in the most fundamental ways. Hell, she’d been wrong since the day she’d first met C. Randall Todd. But even so, some prices were too high to pay.

  She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and prayed to a God she no longer believed in. She was heading to hell in a white chariot. Alone. Completely alone.

  LOCATED BETWEEN the Flamingo and Balley’s, Xanadu was more of a palace than a hotel. With more than three thousand rooms, seven world-class restaurants, one of the largest casinos on the Strip, and a reputation for customer satisfaction unparalleled in a city known for indulgence, Xanadu far exceeded anything Kubla Khan could have imagined.