Love's Gamble

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Love's Gamble Page 14

by Theodora Taylor


  Chapter 18

  “Max, wake up.”

  Max didn’t want to open his eyes. He wanted to continue sleeping with his arms wrapped around Pru’s soft body.

  But she shook him and said it again. “Max, wake up!”

  Max reluctantly opened his eyes, only to see that they were no longer in a tent, but in a large bedroom. No, not just a bedroom—but one located in a penthouse suite with large windows overlooking the Mississippi River and hyperrealistic wallpaper designed to look like antique wall moldings from Old World France. There also a bright red couch shaped in the form of a pair of lips.

  A bright red couch Pru sat on with her long legs crossed and her arms spread. Her body completely naked except for the diamond ring on her hand, which glimmered in the morning light.

  Max quickly sat up. This tableau looked just like a picture he’d sketched. One from the last time he’d spent a few nights in one of his favorite Parisian hotels, detailing what his personal suite atop his New Orleans hotel would look like. Was he really here? In his own finished hotel?

  “You sure are, Max.” Pru answered his unspoken question with a sexy smile. “You hungry?” she asked.

  A silver breakfast service appeared on the low coffee table that sat in front of the couch. It was piled with food. Beignets and croissants. Fresh fruit and grits. Orange juice and fresh coffee.

  His stomach growled. Though, whether it was because he was hungry for breakfast or for Pru was anyone’s guess.

  “You’re starving.” Pru crooked her index finger, drawing him forward. “You better come eat, Max.”

  He started to get up, more than ready to join her on the couch, but then came Pru’s voice again, hissing, “Max, wake up!”

  The Pru on the couch frowned, her eyes shadowing over with disappointment. “You should wake up,” she told him.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I want to stay here with you.”

  But Pru shook her head, looking as sad as she had on their wedding night when she’d told him she wouldn’t be there in the morning. “You can’t stay here with me, Max. Wake up.”

  Max shook his head. Refusing to take his eyes off Pru.

  And Pru suddenly rushed forward, shaking him. “Max, wake up! Wake up!”

  Max’s eyes flew open and he sat up, looking for Pru. His Pru, the one he’d just left behind in New Orleans.

  But instead he found a fully dressed version of her, typing furiously on her smartphone with one hand as she shook him awake with the other.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “What time is it?”

  “Five a.m.,” she answered. “And what’s going on is that a New Orleans hotel blog just announced that the Benton Inn won’t be opening in October as planned because they’ve got a bad case of the bedbugs.”

  Max shook his head. “But Cole just announced that yesterday. And we were all out here. How did a blog based in New Orleans find out about it already?”

  “I don’t know, Max,” she answered. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Also what I was supposed to figure out last night before the mole was able to use the info.”

  She shook her head with a self-directed baleful look. “But unfortunately, I let myself get distracted. And now I’m trying to figure out who made the call to Key Card before it becomes a national story and Cole fires me for coming up with this stupid plan.”

  At first Max didn’t understand what she was talking about or how she was able to use her phone when they didn’t have any reception out here.

  And then he did.

  He stared at her. “This—you coming to my tent. It wasn’t part of the cover story. It was so you could be close if someone left the camp to get better reception and make a call to Key Card.”

  As plans went it was actually a pretty good one, except Max couldn’t help but notice one detail. She hadn’t told him anything about it.

  “I’m on your list. You didn’t tell me about the plan, because I’m on your list, too.”

  This observation made Pru look at him for a long, blunt moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Max, you’re a liar. You’ve said so yourself. And you’re planning a rival hotel that you still haven’t told Cole about. What kind of detective would I be if I didn’t put you on the list of suspects?”

  Max’s entire body went cold. “I might be a liar, and I might be competition, but I wouldn’t sell out my family’s business.”

  Pru didn’t answer. But she didn’t have to. The way her eyes flashed told him everything he needed to know about her thoughts on his general character.

  She shook her head and went back to her phone. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You definitely didn’t leak this. I can vouch for you, and no one left the camp last night, so someone must have snuck in their own satellite device...”

  “You mean like the one Gus used to patch Harrison into the meeting through Skype video chatting?” Max asked with a frown.

  Pru blinked at him. “Wait? What?”

  Chapter 19

  Pru needed to get into Gus’s room. It was all she could think about after sneaking out of Max’s tent and hightailing it back to the lodge.

  She’d let Cole down. And the look on Max’s face when he realized that he’d been on her list of possible suspects all along was painful to observe.

  By the time the executives started arriving back from the campground, she could barely contain herself. Her mind was a mess—so was her heart, and it felt more imperative than ever that she solve this case and put some distance between her and Max.

  From a perch at the top floor’s inner rail, which overlooked the entire downstairs, Pru watched Gus walk across the open common area below to his downstairs room. He had a leather overnight bag slung over one shoulder. She had to find a way to get to the satellite phone Gus had brought with him on the camping trip. It was the only way to prove that he was the one behind the leak. And she had to do it sooner rather than later, because the longer she waited, the longer he’d have to get rid of the evidence. For all she knew, he already had.

  “You look like you have a lot on your mind, young lady.”

  Pru looked up and found Harrison standing next to her in a bathrobe.

  Somehow she mustered up a half smile. “Hi, Harrison. Did you want to use our shower?”

  “If it’s not too much of a bother,” Harrison answered, nodding at the clunky boot on his left leg. “I’m told I’ll have to wear this darn thing for at least two weeks. But I don’t want to disturb you.”

  “It’s no problem at all,” she assured him. “I’ve already taken my shower and Max isn’t back yet.”

  “Good, good, as long as I’m not being any bother.” He peered over his glasses at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever has you looking so pensive. I’m told I lend a good ear.”

  This time Pru didn’t have to fake a smile. “I’m sure you do, but it’s a little complicated—”

  She stopped short, when she noticed Gus below, coming out of his room in a towel headed toward the common showers.

  Pru’s heart jumped. Now was her chance—maybe the only chance she’d get.

  She headed toward the back stairs, calling over her shoulder to Harrison, “The door’s open, just go right in.”

  She didn’t wait for his response, just hightailed downstairs, hoping that she had what she needed in her purse to make use of her extremely rusty lock-picking skills. But to her great relief, Gus’s door was already open. She looked over both shoulders before turning the knob and creeping into the small room.

  Gus’s room was not what she expected, given his age and gender. No stray items floating around, every piece of clothing either hanging in the closet or folded in a drawer.

  It was all very...regimented. Like the rooms of people who’d served
in the armed forces. Or like the room of someone who’d never had anything to call his own, she thought.

  A wave of sympathy passed through Pru. All signs were pointing to Gus as the most likely suspect in this case. But she already knew she wasn’t going to enjoy proving he was the mole. Gus was a survivor, and she couldn’t help but respect him for all he’d overcome even as she looked for the evidence to take him down.

  However, that evidence didn’t prove easy to find. She’d opened every drawer, checked every pocket in his hanging row of suit jackets, but still couldn’t find the satellite phone. And to her dismay, even the phone he’d left behind didn’t give her much to go on. He’d reset the pass code—probably wise given the fact that it had been in Max’s possession for thirty-six hours.

  Her hand tightened around the phone, as she thought about just taking it. But that would be breaking quite a few laws—which could get the evidence declared inadmissible if the case went to court.

  Meanwhile, there was one more place to look, and then she needed to get out of there quickly before Gus returned.

  She went over to the closet, stood on her tiptoes and used her fingers to search its highest shelf. No phone, but what her hand did find brought a frown to her face as she grabbed a hold of it and brought it down to her eye level.

  A sketchbook. A bit smaller than the one Max had, but it was also filled with drawings. As she flipped through the pages she saw what looked like possible design ideas for the Benton Las Vegas renovations that Max had mentioned in passing.

  The discovery made her brow wrinkle. The vague hunch that had been only a tickle in the back of her mind before became a full-on gut twister, too insistent to ignore.

  Research and guts. Guts and research. Other than her extensive list of connections, that was all she’d ever had to endorse her as a private investigator.

  Feeling silly nonetheless, she looked around for something to prove her other theory and found it beneath the small mirror hanging above the dresser drawers. She grabbed the item and slipped it into her purse. Then she headed for the door.

  Gus’s room had been a huge bust. He’d obviously gotten rid of the satellite device, but maybe one of the back-end routes she’d set up to get into his phone was still available to her.

  Pru froze in place when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

  Oh no! Pru looked over both shoulders, desperate for someplace to hide. But unlike the closet in the master bedroom she shared with Max, the one in Gus’s room was much smaller. Way too narrow and shallow for her to fit into. Under the bed was also a no go, thanks to its surrounding baseboard. Pru panicked, realizing there was nowhere to hide and no way to explain her presence in his room without possibly tipping him off before she got the evidence she needed to take him down.

  Suddenly, a solution flew into her head at the very last second. In a haste, she ripped off the terry cloth polo she’d donned after her shower and dived. When Gus walked into the room, she was sprawled across his bed in nothing but her bra and a pair of seventies-era hot pants.

  Gus froze when he saw her, his brow knitting for one confused moment. But then to Pru’s great relief, his usual charming smile spread across his face.

  Gus was a very good-looking man. And he knew it. Knew it and seemed to have no problem whatsoever believing that the wife of one of the Benton heirs would actually be in his room, on his bed.

  “Well, hello there, Miz Pru,” he said, closing the door behind him. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “Oh, I hope so,” Pru said, playing along.

  He walked farther into the room, his eyes roaming freely over her curves. “You and Max get into some kind of fight?” he asked.

  “We had some words this morning,” she answered.

  Gus totally bought it. “I’m glad you did.” He walked over to the bed. “Stand up for me, baby. Let me see exactly what you’re offering.”

  He was bossy, she thought as she reluctantly crawled out of the bed to do his bidding. Like Max. But somehow not like Max.

  With Max, she’d been embarrassed when he’d told her to put herself on display for him. But with Gus, it went deeper than that. A blood-curdling discomfort came over her that made her whole body feel stiff as she twisted it into a classic showgirl pose. Hands on hips, one leg splayed out in front.

  It was a pose Gus responded to with a wolfish smile. “Nice. Tell me why you quit the line again?”

  “It was time,” she answered, since the real explanation of wanting to pursue her PI license certainly wouldn’t help her cover story.

  Gus shook his head and walked over to her. “Well, you definitely still have it. And if Max can’t appreciate that, I definitely will.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her, and Pru tried not to react. But she...just couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she said, ducking away from him, almost as soon as his lips touched hers. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m a married woman.”

  He looked down at her with a lazy smile and leaned in for another kiss. “I thought you and Max were having problems.”

  “Yes, a few,” she answered, dodging the kiss. She hastily retrieved her discarded polo and headed for the door. “But this won’t solve them. I should—I should go back to our room.”

  Gus shook his head, a bitter look coming over his face. “I get it. You like me, but why get with the vice president when you have a Benton heir? Even if he’s an asshole who doesn’t appreciate you.”

  His words made Pru stop at the door and turn back to face him, the polo pressed against her chest.

  Her stare seemed to make him uncomfortable, and he unconsciously brought his hand up to his chest, rubbing his scar. The small gesture made Pru realize he wasn’t a walking pile of testosterone with shady motives, but a man with feelings. Feelings she’d just hurt by offering him something she’d never truly wanted to give him.

  “Actually, that’s not it at all. I think...” She chose her words gingerly. “I think you’re very impressive, Gus. Dedicated and hardworking. I really respect that, and the truth is, if I’d met you at the same time I met Max, I definitely would have chosen you.”

  This much was true. A stable guy like Gus, who’d spent his twenties working hard, as opposed to hound dogging through a series of women, would have been much more appealing.

  “But, I’m married to Max now. So...” She trailed off, hoping that would serve as explanation enough.

  Gus didn’t answer her, just turned away with an angry sneer now marring his otherwise handsome face.

  But this time Pru didn’t stick around to hand out more comfort. She pulled the polo back over her head and opened the door—only to find Cole and Max on the other side.

  She froze. Then scrambled to come up with a plausible story for being in Gus’s room. One that wouldn’t blow her cover. “Hi, Guys! I was um...just talking with Gus. What are you doing here?”

  Max didn’t respond. Instead he just stood there, looking down at her with eyes ablaze with fury.

  But Cole, cleared his throat and said, “I see.”

  He nodded over her shoulder at Gus. “Gus, we wanted to ask you about that satellite phone you were using last night. I’ve been wanting to purchase one for personal use, and I was hoping I might be able to take a look at yours.”

  Pru felt Gus come to stand behind her, still only dressed in the towel he’d worn back from the shower. And she could almost see herself reflected in Max’s eyes. Her shirt hiked up over her belly button because she’d put it back on so hastily, her short curls frizzy and ruffled from the action. A hot naked guy, standing directly behind her.

  “The phone wasn’t mine, actually,” Gus answered Cole. “I borrowed it from the lodge manager and I already gave it back to him. But I’m sure he’d be happy to let you have a look at it.”


  Pru’s heart sank then, because it had actually been a pretty good idea on Cole’s part for getting the phone, so that they could see what calls Gus had made on it. But Gus most certainly would have wiped the phone clean before handing it back to the lodge manager.

  Pru took a step forward, hoping to extricate them all from the situation without being too obvious. “Okay, well, now that I’ve consulted with Gus about my issue, and you have, too, Cole, maybe we should go get some breakfast. I know you’ve got to be hungry after that camping trip.”

  “I am. Let’s go eat,” Cole agreed quickly.

  But Max answered, “So you would have chosen him,” the anger in his voice barely contained.

  She opened her mouth, having no idea how to respond to this without blowing everything. “Max...”

  “Yeah, sorry you had to overhear that, Max,” Gus said behind her. “But look at the bright side, man. You win. Gold diggers will always choose you over me.”

  Pru gasped with indignation. Seriously? He was calling her a gold digger now, just because she refused to give it up to him?

  However, she didn’t have time to properly respond before Max was through the door, pushing past her. Apparently, he’d decided that Gus’s heart condition didn’t absolve him from anything because the very next thing he did was punch the Benton Group’s newest vice president straight in the face.

  Chapter 20

  Max, having been born rich and ornery, had a basic rule about fights. Fights were fine. He had no problem with them whatsoever, but for the good of his bank account, it was necessary that he always made sure that the other guy threw the first punch. It just made things easier when it came to saving him from the consequences of getting into fights, like having to sit through a bunch of boring court proceedings. However, Max broke that rule with Gus.

  Gus, as it turned out, was a pretty good fighter. He took the first punch like a pro. Then quickly raised his fists to protect his face before throwing one of his own at Max.

  This definitely wasn’t his first fight, Max thought as he deflected the punch and got Gus with an uppercut, straight into the gut.

 

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