Hot Number (4 page)

Yikes! Round three to the security
boss
.

She had to regroup. Though it embarrassed her
to talk about it, Sadie figured it was time to appeal to his
compassion for the physically challenged. “I’m sorry, Mr. Saxon.
I’m afraid I’m a clumsy person, and I’ve always been that way. My
brain is wonderfully wired for many things, but certainly not for
locomotion. Lack of coordination was the bane of my childhood and
adolescence. If you could have seen me in gym class, you would have
known exactly what I mean.”

Sadly, every word was true. What she had
endured at the hands of her classmates all those years ago didn’t
bear thinking about.

She studied his physique. “I’m sure you’re a
very athletic person. I doubt you could possibly understand what
it’s like to be thought of as a pathetic klutz.” She sniffed, and
her eyes actually started to get misty. It must be the mojitos that
were making her so maudlin, but maybe the sheriff would take pity
on her. If her abject humiliation kept her out of any more trouble,
so be it. “It’s not a happy feeling,” she finished, sounding as
forlorn as she felt.

He looked pensive, drumming the fingers of
one hand on his other arm. Then he sighed and relaxed his stance.
“You’re right that I’ve never had coordination issues. And I can
appreciate what you’re saying. But I don’t think that should let
you off the hook for what happened out there tonight. I know you
must appreciate that natural clumsiness combined with multiple
mojitos and unfortunate footwear is a sure-fire prescription for
mayhem.”

Round four to the security boss.

Sadie gave a morose nod. The sheriff was
absolutely right, of course. She’d made a gross error in judgment.
The first night of her busting loose trip had been simply a
bust.

* * *

Nick stared at the little bombshell who sat
quietly before him. He had to deal with drunken bimbos every single
day. It sure as hell wasn’t one of the more interesting parts of
casino security work, but it came with the territory.

When he’d hauled this one’s tantalizing ass
off the poker table, he’d pegged her as the usual single girl
tourist on the make, too excited by Vegas to know her booze limits.
But it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that with Ms. Sadie
Bligh—and that was a name for the books—he had an entirely
different animal on his hands. How many bimbos used the word
contretemps
, for Christ’s sake?

But the Desert Oasis had strict security
policies and procedures, and Nick was a professional. People who
caused disturbances didn’t get a free pass. With rare exceptions,
they were taken to a room like this one so he or other security
personnel could scare the living hell out of them. No way would he
have abandoned that policy and let this woman off without a trip
downstairs. Not even though her luscious, jiggling body gave him a
hard-on that would only temporarily obey his mental commands to
subside. During the long walk to the interview room, he’d had to
focus his mind on the worst firefight he’d ever been in, just to
make sure she wouldn’t see him pitching a tent.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to really
scare the crap out of her. She was harmless and she was cute, and
he should just let her go back to her hotel room and sleep it off.
But some instinct kept pulling him back. Though still a little
tipsy, she’d had no trouble stringing together some of the most
articulate sentences he’d ever heard in a casino. Or anywhere else,
for that matter. With her around, you’d never need a dictionary.
For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, she wasn’t
adding up.

She began to fidget, offering him a
vulnerable smile that made her look even more adorable.

He wouldn’t call Sadie Bligh a model-perfect
beauty. Her face was sweet and pretty, not stunning, or
particularly beautiful. Her hair—a color his mother referred to as
auburn but he called reddish-brown—fell to her shoulders in soft
curls. He figured if she hadn’t dressed so provocatively, she
wouldn’t have attracted a whole lot of notice on the casino floor.
Legions of hot young women with skimpy outfits and pounds of
expensive makeup easily overshadowed her.

She did, however, have a killer body, one
which Nick couldn’t help taking the time to appreciate.

Ms. Bligh moved uncomfortably in her seat.
“Sheriff...Mr. Saxon, there’s really no need to give me the silent
treatment. I’m more than willing to admit you make a very good
point. Truly, I should have exercised better judgment. I’m
thoroughly embarrassed. I came to Las Vegas intending to have a
really good time, but I seem to have started out badly,
indeed.”

Nick was glad she’d ditched her faked-up
brassy attitude in favor of an apparently sincere
mea culpa
.
She’d tried her damnedest to make him believe he didn’t intimidate
her. But while she could keep her words under tight control, she
hadn’t been able to rein in the nervous hands and shifting feet
that gave her away to a professional like him. “Where are you from,
ma’am?”

She stopped fidgeting, probably glad he’d
shifted the discussion away from her behavior in the casino.
“Massachusetts, originally. Now I work in Chicago. It’s a nice
city, but I absolutely hate the weather there. Boston was bad
enough, really, but when you’re trying to walk down Michigan Avenue
with sleet flying—”

“Right.” He interrupted her. As much as he
enjoyed hearing her talk, he didn’t need a Weather Channel special
on life in the Windy City. “And how long will you be staying in Las
Vegas?”

She smiled. “I was babbling, wasn’t I? Sorry
about that. I seem to do that a lot when I’m nervous. As to your
question, I’ll be here for just a few days. Less than a week.”

As much as he would have liked to have
studied that hot little body some more, it was time to cut her
loose. “All right, Ms. Bligh,” he said. “We can leave it at that
for now. I’ll escort you to the hotel. I assume you’ll want to
return to your room for a change of footwear.”

Her sigh of relief was both visible and
audible. “Thank you. I
do
want to go back to my room, but I
won’t be putting on new shoes. I think I’ve had enough excitement
for this evening. So, I intend to crawl into bed with a book.”

Wouldn’t you rather crawl into bed with a
security officer?
He almost had to bite his tongue to keep the
insane and unwelcome thought from transforming into words.
Fraternizing with guests was strictly verboten. “That sounds like a
good plan, ma’am,” he said in a gruff voice. “I hope you’ll
continue to enjoy the Desert Oasis casino for the rest of your
stay. But with a little less emphasis on the mojitos.”

Her lips curved into an effortlessly sexy
smile—the first genuine one she’d given him since he’d hauled her
off that poker table. Her mouth was on the small side, but her
lips, tinted a bright pink that kind of matched her filmy top, were
full. Lush, even. He couldn’t stop from thinking how much he’d like
to crush those lips against his own, and then trail a string of wet
kisses down into that soft, creamy, and very generous cleavage.

Nick frowned, disconcerted by his reaction to
her. It didn’t make sense. Maybe that was because
she
didn’t
make sense. Not to him. Or at least she didn’t fit into any of the
neat categories he’d always used to classify women. Though sexy,
she was odd, to say the least.

She tilted her head and stared at him,
clearly puzzled. Her soft green eyes shone with an intelligence and
perception that belied the trashy outfit she had poured herself
into. Yep. Something just didn’t add up.

And right then, Nick decided to keep an eye—a
very watchful eye—on Ms. Sadie Bligh for as long as she remained in
his hotel.

* * *

“I’ll see you up to your room,” the sheriff
intoned, punching the elevator call button. “You’re still not
steady on your feet.”

Sadie had clutched his muscled arm all the
way from the gulag. They now stood side-by-side at the south wing
elevator bank, and her ankle hurt like hell. She hadn’t realized
she’d twisted it until she got up from that chair in the interview
room and almost fell on her face. Too tight to begin with, the boot
had constricted her aching foot to the point where the blood
circulation seemed to be almost non-existent. With a long-suffering
sigh, Saxon had kept her upright and helped her from the room.

She smiled up at him as they waited for the
elevator. “That would be an excellent idea. If I don’t get this
boot off soon, I’ll be on crutches tomorrow. But it’s not a
complete disaster. I planned on lying around the European pool all
day tomorrow, anyway.”

Saxon’s dark brows shot up, his stony
expression giving way to one of surprise. She gave herself a mental
high-five
.

I shocked the sheriff.

In spite of her outfit, he probably didn’t
figure her for someone who would brave the hotel’s topless pool, so
she wasn’t surprised at the uptick in interest. Not the way his
hooded eyes had been scanning her chest for a good part of the time
they were down in the gulag. With his hot dark gaze on what seemed
like acres of her uncovered skin, she’d never felt so exposed in
her life. It should have outraged her and, well, it did. Partly.
But it also ignited a heat that melted her insides as quickly as
the scorching Vegas sun would melt ice.

Maybe that was why she’d decided to see if
she could shock the sheriff just now with her confession about the
European pool. Otherwise, it was an inexplicable impulse for a
dowdy college professor who’d never been impulsive.

Saxon kept his mouth in a tight line as he
helped her into the elevator.

“I read that the European pool usually has a
ratio of five men for every woman,” she said, watching for his
reaction. “Those odds beat the pants off anything in your
casino.”

This time she couldn’t quite decipher the
look he gave her. His brain was probably warring with itself: was
she an alien, or a slut? Or maybe an alien slut?

“That ratio’s about right,” he said, fixing
his eyes on the panel lights displaying the floor numbers. His
breathing seemed noticeably heavier. “Most women are hesitant about
public nudity, and for some guys, it’s a chance to ogle and try to
score. Twenty-five bucks gets them some cheap thrills.”

“You sound disapproving.”

“It’s a free country, and this is Vegas.”
Saxon turned his head to focus his bedroom eyes directly on hers.
“It’s just that after our conversation, I wouldn’t have taken you
for that type.”

Sadie bristled. “And what
type
would
that be?”

Saxon looked annoyed. “Relax, okay? I wasn’t
trying to offend you. It was a compliment, actually.”

“Look, Mr. Saxon, my friend and I came to
Vegas to have a good time—an extraordinarily, riotously good time.
We need it.
I
need it. There’s no law against that, is
there?”

“Not as long as you don’t wreak any more
havoc in my casino.” There was that hint of a smile again. She
wondered if he would look even more handsome when he was genuinely
happy about something.

The elevator pinged, stopping at the
thirtieth floor. Saxon grasped her forearm as she hobbled out and
down the corridor toward her room. If she hadn’t been in so much
pain, she would have been humiliated by her clumsy gait.

At her door, she pulled her hand away so she
could rummage in her bag for the key card.

“Here, let me.” He whipped his left hand into
his suit pocket, then swiped a card through the reader. Pushing the
heavy door open, he stood back to let her slip by.

Sadie smiled. The badass security man had a
good measure of gentleman in him. As she passed, she couldn’t help
brushing against him, her nearly-exposed breasts dragging softly
across the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. Her nipples contracted,
and a flush rose up through her body until her face felt on fire.
God, she must look as red as a Santa suit.

But Saxon was staring down at her chest,
apparently not the slightest bit put off by her red face. In fact,
he looked very, very interested in what he saw.

Busted.
Her inconveniently hard
nipples had betrayed her again.

Sadie ran her tongue over her dry lips as she
groped to find the words to extract herself from the awkward
situation. That in itself was disconcerting. She
never
had
difficulty finding words.

Saxon was big and dark and scary and she
wanted him gone. At the same time, he was big and dark and
impossibly sexy and she wanted him to scoop her into his arms and
throw her down on the bed. She’d come to Vegas to get a hot man in
her room…but someone like the sheriff? He was so far out of her
league it gave her vertigo.

But then why wasn’t he stepping away from
her?

Nervously, Sadie inhaled a deep breath and
put her hand on the edge of the door to start closing it. She’d had
enough excitement for one evening, and the sheriff coming on to her
would send her right over the edge.

“Thanks for taking the time to help me up
here, Mr. Saxon.” Her brain scrambled for the right words to send
him on his way. “I only wish we’d been able to meet in more
propitious circumstances.”

He dropped his hand from the door but didn’t
step back into the hallway. He was so close that she could actually
feel the warmth of his breath on the top of her head. For the first
time, she noticed a long, thin scar that snaked from the corner of
his right eye into the thicket of hair above his ear. On him, it
looked sexy.

Finally, and reluctantly, she thought, he
took a step back. “I’m sure you’ll be fine from now on, ma’am. I
need to get back to the floor, so I’ll wish you good night.” With a
nod, he started toward the elevator.

Immediately and inexplicably she found
herself missing him. She didn’t want him to stay, but she also
didn’t want him to go.