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Lust (Vegas Nights #2)

Page 6

by Emma Hart


  “Same what? A margarita in beer bottle?

  “No. Non-alcoholic.”

  “But you just—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips and bent down once again. “The bar workers all know us. If I ask for a beer, they know to bring me a non-alcoholic one.”

  “So, the one you had when you saved my ass from the asshole tender…”

  He nodded, pulling back. “It’s also why he shut up pretty quick.”

  Our drinks were brought over. Adrian paid, then grabbed a bar stool for me to sit on. I perched on the edge of it as he came and stood behind me, coming in close and resting one arm along the bar between my glass and me.

  My spine straightened.

  “Relax,” he murmured in my ear. “I need you to be able to see the casino floor. I need people to think we’re together. I promise I won’t touch you inappropriately.”

  Not that it would be a hardship.

  Wait. No. I wasn’t thinking about that, not even with his hard chest pressed against my back and his breath fluttering across my cheek.

  I was here under duress, potentially putting someone through the same, distressing emotions I went through the other night. I wasn’t here to think about the hot cop behind me.

  I took a sip of my drink and cast my gaze out over the casino, like I had so many times before. Except this time I wasn’t looking for someone looking for me. I was looking for someone trying to avoid the man behind me.

  I hoped whoever I was looking for was smarter than I was. That they could sense they were being watched or were smoother than many I knew.

  The saddest part was the people we were more likely to arrest were the new girls. The ones who were desperate enough to skip from stripping to sex just to pay their way.

  The people the LVPD were really interested in were smart enough to not get found out. Like I had been until my own frustration had trapped me.

  The guilt crept through me like poison. I already recognized one woman by the blackjack table. In a casino as busy as this one was, there would be several more.

  A quiet half an hour and the emptying of my sadly non-alcoholic drink passed before I saw it.

  The woman in her thirties, draping herself over a gentleman at the poker table. She tickled her fingers over his shoulder, pushing herself against him as she whispered in his ear. He laughed, wrapping an arm around her. His hand crept across her thigh and tugged up her dress.

  Nobody noticed—of course they didn’t. They didn’t care. They didn’t need to notice.

  But I did.

  I didn’t know who either of them were. Maybe she was just a mistress. Maybe our paths had never crossed. Maybe she’d even come with him.

  Those things all made it easier.

  I turned into Adrian and with my eyes down, said, “Poker table. Blue dress. Black hair. The guy with the light blue shirt.”

  “You sure?” came his gruff reply.

  I nodded. My throat was swollen, the lump there too thick to speak past. And as he pulled out his phone, I felt nothing but the acute sense of betrayal on her behalf.

  What if she had a child?

  What if she had an ill mother?

  What if, what if, what if?

  “Let’s go.” Adrian pushed away from the bar and pulled me up.

  I glanced at the table. “They’re still there.”

  “You want to watch them be arrested in about twenty seconds?” He flattened his hand on the small of my back, holding me against his hard body.

  I shook my head. No. I didn’t. Not at all.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Halfway out of the casino, with his arm still around my waist, I peered back across the room, just in time to see the guy swing for an officer and get himself cuffed for his effort.

  Chapter Six

  Adrian

  She looked like she wanted to be anywhere other than with me.

  Not that I was taking it personally. I was surprised she hadn’t thrown up when she’d pointed out our first arrest of the night to me. I didn’t believe it was the first person she’d noticed, more that it was the first she felt comfortable mentioning.

  Same with the second arrest of the night. My boys were delighted, but she was getting quieter and quieter as each minute ticked on. I doubted we’d get an arrest on our current attempt.

  My gut told me she was done for the night.

  That she’d help, but she’d do so on her terms and her terms alone.

  It annoyed me, but at the same time, I understood why she was so against this. If her role were reversed with someone else and she ran the risk of being outed without an escape—well.

  She wouldn’t have got as lucky as she did with me.

  Lady One and Lady Two, as we’d taken to calling them, were both at the station. They hadn’t gotten lucky. They were the price for Perrie’s freedom, and I was pretty sure that was the other reason why she was so reluctant to do it.

  Unfortunately for her, that was the way this was. If we had to have some push and pull until she finally did it properly, then that was fine. I’d play her game the hesitant way. As long as we were making arrests, that kept our taskforce—and potentially our jobs—safe.

  I glanced over at her across the table. Her eyes were flitting side to side, but she wasn’t really seeing anything. They were shiny but unfocused, an act that said she was looking without ever paying attention to what it was she was looking at.

  It gave me a chance to look at her. Really look at her, under the guise that I was making sure she was doing her job.

  I was, but still. There were worse things I could do that sit opposite Perrie Fox and enjoy the view in front of me, even with the knowledge that she was untouchable.

  Her blond hair hung just above her shoulders, the ends of the loose waves tickling her skin. Wide, dark eyes looked everywhere but at me, and the lashes that framed them were lightly coated with mascara, just enough to darken them to a stunning black that looked almost natural.

  High cheekbones were highlighted with pale pink, making an almost perfectly curved path down to her full, dark pink lips. A tiny mole decorated the corner of her mouth, and another sat partially hidden on her opposite cheek by the way her bangs swept over her forehead and across her face.

  She was, simply, beautiful. The kind of beauty that needed no work or correction. The kind of beauty that could roll out of bed without washing her hair for four days, wearing yesterday’s make-up, and spaghetti sauce on a shirt of questionable cleanliness, and still make you look twice for all the right reasons.

  But maybe that was less about her looks and more about her. Despite all the torment she clearly faced, beneath it was a strange kind of peace. One that gripped on to everyone around her.

  She was off-limits.

  Untouchable.

  We were on opposite sides. I upheld the law while she flaunted it. She fucked for money while I took down the people who did the very same thing.

  Why had I saved her?

  Why hadn’t I sent her to a goddamn cell?

  Looking at her right here, right now, it was obvious. It wasn’t because I felt bad for her. It wasn’t because she was a single mom.

  She was broken.

  At some point in her life, something or someone had broken her.

  It took one broken person to see another, and here I was, in the middle of a crowded, smoky casino, one step away from a motherfucking cliché, seeing her.

  Seeing the brokenness that she hid, the heartbreak she tried to conceal, and all the lies for the reasons why she was doing what we doing.

  And fuck, I couldn’t have her, but I wanted to strip all those layers away and find out what why she was the way she was. Why the heir of one of Vegas’ richest families, a legitimate dynasty, had been selling herself for sex and hadn’t spoken to her family in years.

  Whose fault was it?

  Who was to blame?

  What the hell had happened to her to make her this way?

  “Stop staring
at me like there aren’t another million places to look,” she snapped, finally bringing her attention to me. “I’m not a bedtime snack.”

  I wouldn’t complain if she were.

  “I’m simply trying to figure you out,” I replied.

  “Grab a pen and paper. You’ll need to take notes. There are a hell of a lot of pieces that need putting together.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I fought the smirk that willed its way onto my lips. “I like puzzles. Unless my son is in charge of them. In that case, I’d rather swim with crocodiles.”

  “Now, you’re just stating the obvious.” She sighed, playing with the corner of a napkin. “I can’t see anyone here. At least, they’re not as obvious as you.”

  I let the smirk go, and my lips curved up. “All right.”

  Perrie blinked at me. “All right? Is that all you have to say?”

  “You don’t want to hear all the things I have to say to you.”

  “I assure you that I do.”

  “And I’m assuring you that you don’t. If we’re done here, let’s go. I have paperwork to do.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Fine. I suppose this has been worth my time.”

  I took her hand in mine before she’d even stood up and all but dragged her out of the casino. I hadn’t spent that much time staring at a woman in a while. I hadn’t had time—all the women I’d been focused on were potential sex workers.

  And fuck if I didn’t wish she weren’t one of them.

  If she weren’t, I didn’t doubt I’d have given her my number before I walked away.

  Now she had it—and not the one I wanted her to have.

  I dug the valet ticket out of my back pocket and handed it to the valet. He nodded and briskly walked off to get my keys and my car. Perrie didn’t say a word as she stood beside me, waiting for it to show up.

  When it did, I took the keys and opened the passenger door for her. She hit me with her gaze for a split second before she got in and closed the door herself.

  Of course she did.

  I walked around the car and got in, shoving the keys into the ignition with a little too much vigor. The engine roared to life with one twist of the key as far as it would go, so I slammed my door and yanked my belt right across me until I clicked it into place.

  Her glance of surprise didn’t register until I’d pulled away from the hotel and almost reached the main road.

  Frustration nudged at me.

  Why?

  Why was I so frustrated? There was no reason for it. Except for the woman sitting across the car from me—the first woman I’d wanted in a long time, and she’d turned out to be so much my polar-opposite that there was no way the gap between us would ever be bridged.

  I’d been there, after all.

  With someone like her.

  She’d given me the greatest gift and fucked me up at the very same time.

  I gripped the steering wheel tightly. My knuckles whitened with my tightening grip, but it kept me focused as I pulled out into the traffic on the main road.

  Ever since I’d met Perrie, my mind had slipped more and more into the past. I didn’t want to think about the past—I wanted to make a fucking difference to the here and now. To the people whose lives I could change by my choices.

  The blond bombshell opposite me might have seen me as the biggest fucking asshole known to man, but she knew nothing. She said I didn’t understand her life, and she was right. But she didn’t understand mine, either.

  That was something she’d never be able to get. Why people like her—why people who did what she did affected me the way they did. That was a thing she’d never understand and something I had no intention of sharing.

  I pulled into my space at the station after a few minutes of stony silence. Without a word, Perrie got out of the car and slammed the door behind her. I yanked the key from the ignition and hurried out after her before she reached her own car.

  “So, you don’t want to get paid tonight?” I raised my eyebrow, leaning on the back of her car.

  She paused. “I’m getting paid nightly?”

  “Probably not permanently, but for the first few days. Because, you know…”

  “Of the way I normally get paid,” she finished. “Right.”

  “Come on inside. I’ll see the chief and get your check.” I motioned to the door, touching my other hand to her back and guiding her in the direction of the station.

  She allowed me to lead her in, and when we got through the door, I left her in my office. She’d returned to her silence, so I left her to it.

  All our short conversation had done was reminded me of how very different we are.

  The chief had finished for the day, but he’d left a slim, brown envelope on his desk with a note that it contained a check for Perrie. I guessed he figured after the second arrest we were done for the night and estimated what she was owed.

  I found her sitting on the chair opposite my desk when I walked back into my office. “Here.” I held out the envelope for her. “Your check is in there.”

  She took the envelope quietly. Using her pinky finger, she ripped through the seal. She peered down into it with a raise of her eyebrows before tucking it into her purse.

  “What? Something wrong?”

  Perrie shook her head. “Not at all. Thanks. Do you need me here tomorrow, or can I meet you wherever we need to be?”

  “Let me check tomorrow. I’ll call you. Same time, though.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She smiled and stood up, sliding her purse strap up over her shoulder. “If I don’t answer, leave a message.”

  She headed for the door, but I shot my hand out toward the handle and grabbed hold of it before she could. The action stopped her in her tracks, and she slowly moved her attention from the handle to meet my gaze.

  “Perrie.” I said her name in a low voice, stepping closer to her so her breasts brushed my chest before she leaned back. “Tomorrow…Leave your bullshit and protestations at the door. You’re not being forced to do this—it’s your choice. You’re here to bring us results, not argue the toss because you feel guilty.”

  “Don’t tell me how to feel.” Her dark eyes pierced into me, anger swirling in their chocolate-brown depths. Not even the amber-gold hints at the edge of her irises brightened her emotion-filled stare. “You can make me do this because I don’t want to go to jail, but you can’t make me feel another way about it. Or you, for the matter.”

  “I could, but it would be completely inappropriate for me to do so.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means,” I said slowly, taking a lock of that wavy, blonde hair between my finger and thumb and twisting it, “That if I really wanted to, I could make you leave this room liking me a hell of a lot more than you did when you walked in here ten minutes ago. Don’t doubt that.”

  She smacked my hand away from her and took a step back. “I’d think very carefully about what you want to say next, if I were you. I’ve dealt with enough selfish assholes in my life to give a crap about you, too.”

  A vulnerability shaded her voice, making her eyes drop for a split second. If I weren’t so focused on her, I’d have missed it.

  I lifted my hand back up and touched two fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head back so she was looking at me again. “Selfish is something I’m not. Honest, yes. And I’m being honest when I tell you that if I pushed you against the wall behind you and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, you’d like me a lot.”

  She stared at me for a moment as a light flush rose in her cheeks. “But you won’t.”

  “Not today.”

  “Not today? Not ever, thank you very much.” She lifted her purse so it was between us. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get home to my daughter now.”

  I kept the contact between us for a second longer before I took a step back and opened the door for her. “Same time tomorrow, Perrie. Remember—leave the emotion and bring something worth my time.”

>   Her response was to flip me the finger over her shoulder.

  Rubbing my hand over my mouth suppressed the laugh I so desperately wanted to let go of. Anyone else, and I would have felt pissed off.

  But there was something about her.

  Something that made it hard to be annoyed at her.

  No matter how bad I wanted to be.

  Chapter Seven

  Perrie

  The sound of Lola’s high-pitched, majorly off-key singing seemed to bounce right off the walls.

  If I heard that damn song from Sing one more time, I was going to bang my head against a brick wall.

  I didn’t care if the little porcupine wanted to set it all fucking free. I wanted to set my daughter free after hearing it sung fifty times in the past three hours.

  “Lola.” I sighed, closing the fridge. “Can you not sing something else?”

  She stopped singing. “Like the call me maybe song?”

  Oh god. This was going from bad to worse. “No. Definitely not that song.”

  “Shake It Off?”

  Taylor Swift was better, but… “Why don’t you read quietly for a little bit?”

  She pouted, jutting her bottom lip right out. “I don’t want to be quiet.”

  I was well aware of that fact, funnily enough. “Go read for a bit, okay? Or play quietly. Mommy has a headache and has to work tonight.”

  Lola sighed heavily. “Okay, okay. Can I take my pens to my room?”

  Normally, I would say no, but… “Sure. Just take the paper, too.”

  She grinned and skipped off. By the time she’d grabbed her pens and had reached the bottom of the stairs, she was humming Shake It Off.

  It was a partial win. I’d take it.

  Lord knew I needed as much sanity as possible to be able to handle another night like the previous one. Not only because of what I was doing, but because of the man who’d been a thorn in my side ever since he’d approached me at the bar.

  And the fact my skin had tingled where he’d touched me and mentioned kissing me.

  Something that was completely off-limits. There was no way that man was allowed to kiss me. I didn’t care that he was handsome or that I’d gotten a little thrill at the thought of feeling his lips against mine.

 

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