One More Night (Seductive Nights #3)(28)
Author: Lauren Blakely

“I love all of you, even your trouble,” he whispered, stroking her hair.

She was trembling, and he felt her toughness fade for a moment as she ran a hand through his hair and whispered in his ear, “I really would like you to stay by my side the rest of the time we’re here.”

“I promise,” he said, pulling her in closer, tighter, wanting to make her feel safe now and for all time.

With his arm draped around her protectively, he kept her close as they weaved their way through the afternoon crowds to the doorway, sunshine beckoning from beyond. “A change of pace will do us good,” he said. “A fresh start for the rest of the weekend.”

“Besides, there’s nowhere like the Bellagio to begin our do-over.”

As they neared the revolving door, a carrot-topped and freckled young bellman trotted over to them. “Excuse me, Mr. Nichols?”

His chest tightened. What now? “Yes?”

“We had a delivery for you this afternoon. We brought it up to the room but you weren’t there, and since you’re checking out, my boss wanted to get it to you before you left,” the bellman said, thrusting a plastic bag at Clay. The bag was extremely light, as if it were carrying a small scrap of fabric.

He peered inside and there it was—his favorite small scrap of fabric. His lucky purple tie. A slip of paper was wrapped around the tie. He pulled out the paper and opened it.

Clay, I found this on the plane this morning. I know you were looking for it, so I dropped it off at your hotel. Please accept my apologies for the delay. I didn’t find the tie on my initial search because it turned out to be wedged between two seats. But after another look, I recovered it for you. The jet is in Vegas now, and I’ll be ready for anything you might need, and whenever you want to return to New York.

Clay couldn’t contain a grin as he showed the note to Julia. “You know what this means?”

She read it and met his gaze. “It means the tie went missing when we were flying high.”

He nodded. “We were distracted. In the best of ways,” he said, and they resumed their pace to the taxi stand. As they waited, he slung the tie around his neck, and she knotted it loosely. To think he’d entertained the notion that the pilot had stolen his tie. Instead, their passion for each other had simply knocked the item of clothing out of sight.

Ironic, in a way. Or maybe it was simply apropos for the two of them.

* * *

Dominic couldn’t take the smell much longer. He crinkled his nose again, and tried to breathe through his mouth, but he was pretty sure the guy in the corner had just pissed on himself again. The other dude in here smelled like he bathed in a sewer. Gripping the bars tightly, Dominic scanned the concrete hallways, eager for a sign of Michael. He’d called him the second before the cops had tossed him in this cell—tossed being the operative word; they’d practically grabbed him by the belt buckle and heaved him into this pit of putrid—and Michael had said he’d be here soon.

He rubbed a hand across his ribs, wincing; they smarted from the beating they’d taken an hour ago.

The sound of scanners and phone calls, along with the grumbled shouts of the temporarily incarcerated, rang in the halls. A cop with a nightstick glared at him as he walked over to the cell. The cop pointed with his chin. “Dominic Stevenson. There’s a Michael Lawson here to see you. Come with me.”

Dominic’s heart ran circles in his chest, taking away the soreness in his stomach. Michael was here, Michael would post bail, Michael would free him. The door opened with a loud groan as the cop unlocked it, then shut it behind him.

See you, suckers, he wanted to say to his fetid cellmates. But he clamped his mouth shut as the cop escorted him to a small concrete room with a table and two chairs. Michael was seated, his legs crossed, wearing his trademark cowboy boots and a bolo tie around his neck. A big-brimmed hat rested on the table. Dominic reached out a hand, and Michael shook.

“Man, it is good to see you,” Dominic said, and he’d never been so relieved.

“I’m sure it is. I always like seeing me too,” Michael said, then shot a toothy smile at Dominic. Michael was like that. Affable; easygoing.

The cop left and they were alone in the room.

“So, you’re going to get me out of here?” Dominic asked, hope knotting tightly in his chest.

“Well, let’s just talk about things first,” Michael said, leaning back in his chair, and tipping it slightly onto the two back legs. “Because I’m not so sure I ever said I wanted you to lock up that lady hustler, rough her up, get caught, and blow your f**king cover,” he said, the smile on his face masking the ire in the words.

Dominic nodded, girding himself for getting chewed out. He knew this was coming. He’d messed up, and he’d have to eat crow, but they’d move on and keep on keeping on. “I’m sorry. Things got out of hand. But hey, on the bright side, I kept her out of your games,” Dominic said, grasping for the one bit of good news.

Michael nodded several times and chuckled deeply, then pointed at him. “There is that. Oh, you’re right. There is that.” He stopped laughing, tilted the chair back up, and steepled his hands together. The sharp stare and the erasure of the smile worried Dominic. “But you did more than that, and I only asked you to do one thing: I asked you to keep her and everyone on the list out of my games. I don’t want anyone else horning in on my turf, not after the trouble I had with Charlie when I used to work for him in San Francisco. That cold-hearted bastard accused me of stealing. Something I would never do, but we worked it out and made a deal. And the deal was I’d leave town, and we’d stay out of each other’s way. That’s all. Plain and simple. And you and Stevie were in touch, you were honoring the deal, and Stevie knew it, and was keeping Charlie apprised.”

“We did have a deal. Stevie even called last night and I reminded him, but then she showed up and I had to get rid of her,” he said insistently, trying to prove his point. He wanted Michael to see how he’d protected his boss’s assets. “I did what you wanted.”

Michael made a shushing sound, as if Dominic had been talking too loud in church. “That’s what you thought you were doing, and hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right?”

Michael stared at him pointedly and Dominic wasn’t sure if the other man was asking rhetorically or leading into what he planned to do to him, but either way, he had the sinking feeling Michael wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “But I’m pretty sure blowing your motherfucking cover as an inside man was not what I wanted you to do. You’re a pit boss at the Allegro. Do you have any idea how valuable it was to me to have you on the inside like that? To know the score? To have access to security cameras and footage and all the intel that I needed to run my games?” Michael shook his head, and sighed deeply. “And now—poof! That’s all gone. Because you snapped. When I said find out why she’s in town, I meant sit down, have a drink, talk to her like a normal f**king person. Invite her into a game. Find out then if she was working for Charlie. Find out then if I had to be concerned about him encroaching. Liquor her up, ply her with cards and get the four-one-one on Charlie. You should have lured her with candy, not fists. She’s a hustler, and you should have invited her to a high-stakes game instead of your f**king office where you cuffed her. You did this three months ago when you tossed a guy out of a game for the wrong reason, and now you’ve once again gone too far.”