“You have security cameras here, right? Eye in the sky?”
She shrugged, not answering.
“What if I could tell you that it’s highly likely the pickpocket was at the pai gow tables at one-fifteen today and seemed to make off with a handful of chips? He was wearing a hoodie and has a rather large nose that I believe is a prosthetic.”
Mindy’s eyes lit up as if she’d just been handed the keys to the kingdom. “Really?”
“Check it out. See if you see what I saw. And if you do, and I can ID him like I think I can, what would you say to not reporting Clay?”
Mindy chewed away at her lower lip, considering the offer. “Can you wait here for a few minutes? I’ll be right back.”
She exited, leaving them behind in the open office. Clay turned to her, the first time they were alone since security had rounded them up. Worry was etched in his features. He held tighter to her hand. His touch was comforting, and she sensed he needed reassurance as much as she did. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I am now.”
“Do you want to go back to New York once we’re done? If they let us go,” he added, narrowing his eyes, huffing through his nostrils.
She squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him, calm him. “They’ll let us go.”
“Why are you trying to make me feel better?” he said, with a sigh. “You’re the one who was hurt. And all you’ve done is try to avoid me taking the fall.”
“I was. But I’m okay now, and I don’t want this to get worse. I care too much about you, and your reputation. I thought that morality clause mattered to me. I thought that expanded contract mattered. But you know what?” She reached a hand to him, cupping his cheek. “I don’t give a shit what people think about me. I’m a bartender. If I have a rap sheet a mile long, it makes me cooler. But you’re a lawyer and you need to be as unimpeachable as you have always been, so I want to make sure you’re safe.”
He looked at her, such softness in his eyes. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”
“And you did. You found me.”
“I want to get you out of here, Julia. I was only trying to protect you,” he said, and his eyes looked terribly sad, as if he felt like it was his fault that he was somehow being deemed culpable.
“You did protect me,” she said insistently, grasping his hand tighter for emphasis. “And I’m glad you punched that ass**le.”
Mindy’s footsteps sounded outside the door.
“Hey. Who do you think it is that’s pickpocketing?” he whispered.
“Get ready for this,” she said with a wicked smile. The first that afternoon. “Tad Herman.”
His brown eyes sparkled, and he smiled too. “No f**king way.”
“I think it’s him, Clay. I really do. He wears a fake nose when he lifts the chips. But it sure looked like him, blond hair, skinny build and all.”
“That would explain why he’s so hard-core about his morals clause. It’s his alibi to cover up his own very bad habits.”
She shrugged playfully. “Everyone has a racket in this town,” she said as Mindy returned to the office.
Standing in front of them, Mindy held out her hand to shake. “Thank you, Ms. Bell. I believe we’ll be able to use that security video from one-fifteen after all. I so value the tip, and I don’t recall any additional punches being thrown at all. Everything was done for your protection,” Mindy said, and Julia smiled briefly. This was Vegas through and through. A handshake, a deal, a tit for tat. Everyone was on the take in some way—some more above the board than others. But everyone had a price, and she was just damn grateful she’d had the trump card in this round. “If you could just stay and give your statement to the police about what happened with Dominic, I’d be most grateful. And I’ll be sure to let them know about our very Good Samaritan.”
* * *
She pressed her forehead to his in the elevator. They were alone, shooting up to the twenty-first floor. “You saved me,” she whispered, so much gratitude in her voice. So much need for him.
“You saved me,” he said, as he threaded his fingers tenderly through her hair, holding her close.
“We rescued each other,” she said.
“Yes. We did. Let’s always do that.” His deep voice was gentle, the one he saved just for her. He brushed his lips against her softly. A rescue kiss. An only you kiss. A kiss that said so much about the two of them, how they fit.
They were scotch and soda; they were vodka and tonic. They were better together.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Saturday, 3:09 p.m., Las Vegas
Their bags were packed and they were heading through the lobby, eager to catch a cab up the Strip to the Bellagio. He wanted to put the entire last twenty-four hours behind them.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of here? Leave this town behind us?”
“Do I look like a wuss?”
“Hell no,” he said emphatically.
“Then I don’t want to go¸” she said, stopping in her tracks to look him in the eyes. “Look, I don’t like what happened, and I didn’t enjoy being harassed, but I’m not running out of town with my tail between my legs. Life makes no promises, nor does this city. We could run into trouble anywhere. So if we’re living in The Hangover, if we’re making a pit stop in Ocean’s Eleven, or even spending a night in Casino, then so be it. I’m a gambler and I know there are no guarantees. You wake up every morning and you take your chances. But one thing I am not is a coward. I used to be owned by a mobster a hell of a lot more powerful than Dominic Handcuffs. I’m not going to let some two-bit mob pawn ruin my vacation. This girl is getting her weekend away.”
God, she was brazen, and he swore she grew two, three, four feet taller during that speech. He was ready to make a shrine to his badass woman. Instead, he clapped slowly. Several times. “Can I write that down and use it in a screenplay somewhere? Because that was the stuff movie scenes are made of.”
“You got a script cooking somewhere you haven’t told me about?”
He shook his head. “Nope. No need to, because our life is like the movies right now.” He leaned in for a quick kiss, and she grabbed him, tugging him close. He lowered his voice, speaking just for her. “Do you realize I fall more madly in love with you every day?”
“Good. Because maybe that love will make you forget how much trouble I am.”