through her mind. Out of all the males frequenting Atlantic City at this particular time, she had singled out a man who required the services of bodyguards! Fantastic. Of course, Leslie hastened to point out to herself, she hadn’t exactly singled him out. Flint Falcon had commandeered her!
“It’s nothing to go into fits over,” Flint said, slanting a shrewd glance at her expression of consternation.
“I never have fits.” Leslie’s tone was repressive.
“Okay,” he shot back with agreeable smoothness, “then it’s nothing for you to be concerned about.” Stopping abruptly, Leslie whipped around to face him. “Really?” she said challengingly. “Since you pay for their services, I must assume you feel a need for the bodyguards. And if you feel that need, then I must assume there is plenty to be concerned about.” She strode away from him, moving toward the entrance of the hotel that had been their destination. Flint’s hand covered hers as she grasped the cold metal bar on the revolving door.
“Will you listen?” he muttered, pressing his chest to her back in the tiny wedge of space intended for one person. “I’m not concerned,” he continued as they stepped together info the spacious lobby. “My security chief insisted on the guards.” His shoulders moved in a dismissive shrug. “I tolerate them as long as they don’t crowd me.”
Moving toward the escalator that led to the casino, Leslie spared him a glowering over-the-shoulder glance. “There must be a reason your security chief insisted upon the guards,” she said, her lips tightening in disapproval.
“Well, of course there is.” Flint was losing patience, and it showed. “Leslie, use your head. I’m in a high-risk business. You knew that from the beginning.”
So strong was the force of his stare that Leslie nearly missed stepping off the moving stairs when they’d reached the top. Flint’s hands flashed out to steady her when she stumbled slightly. “Thank you,” she muttered ungraciously, veering away from him. She didn’t like it, not any of it. The thought of why he would need bodyguards upset and frightened her. But more than anything else, Leslie was angry.
She slowed her rapid steps as she approached a bank of dollar slot machines. Leslie felt Flint come to a stop beside her as she fumbled with the catch on her small evening bag. She snagged a nail and cursed in an undertone. Dammit! she wailed inwardly. First the escalator, now this stupid catch! How dare he say she knew he was in a high-risk business from the beginning? He had begun this... this whatever it was, not she!
“You’re going to play the machines?” Flint’s tone was heavy with disbelief, which merely added fuel to her anger.
“I’d say that was a pretty dumb question,” she fairly snarled, “since I’m standing directly in front of one.” The silence that ensued was infinitely more frightening than learning about his bodyguards. Already regretting her snide remark and the sharpness of her tone, Leslie suffered his cold silence in remorse.
“Don’t push your luck, honey.” Flint’s voice was terrifying in its icy softness.
Feeling the chill to her toes, Leslie didn’t have to be told that he was not referring to the machines or any other games of chance. Tension humming along her nerves, a cloying sense of fear pervading her being, she stood staring sightlessly at the three stilled reels behind the rectangular window on the slot machine. She came to the conclusion that for her Falcon was the biggest gamble in town. In her distraction, Leslie was unaware of her fingers picking at the purse clasp.
“Oh, for God’s sake, here!” Pulling her hand away from the purse, Flint slapped a hundred-dollar bill into her palm. “Where did you get that bag, Wells Fargo?”
“I don’t want your money, Falcon.”
Flint ignored her low, gritty tone and the bill she shoved at him. “I’ve upset you.”
Trying to collect herself, Leslie crumpled
“It’s nothing to go into fits over,” Flint said, slanting a shrewd glance at her expression of consternation.
“I never have fits.” Leslie’s tone was repressive.
“Okay,” he shot back with agreeable smoothness, “then it’s nothing for you to be concerned about.” Stopping abruptly, Leslie whipped around to face him. “Really?” she said challengingly. “Since you pay for their services, I must assume you feel a need for the bodyguards. And if you feel that need, then I must assume there is plenty to be concerned about.” She strode away from him, moving toward the entrance of the hotel that had been their destination. Flint’s hand covered hers as she grasped the cold metal bar on the revolving door.
“Will you listen?” he muttered, pressing his chest to her back in the tiny wedge of space intended for one person. “I’m not concerned,” he continued as they stepped together info the spacious lobby. “My security chief insisted on the guards.” His shoulders moved in a dismissive shrug. “I tolerate them as long as they don’t crowd me.”
Moving toward the escalator that led to the casino, Leslie spared him a glowering over-the-shoulder glance. “There must be a reason your security chief insisted upon the guards,” she said, her lips tightening in disapproval.
“Well, of course there is.” Flint was losing patience, and it showed. “Leslie, use your head. I’m in a high-risk business. You knew that from the beginning.”
So strong was the force of his stare that Leslie nearly missed stepping off the moving stairs when they’d reached the top. Flint’s hands flashed out to steady her when she stumbled slightly. “Thank you,” she muttered ungraciously, veering away from him. She didn’t like it, not any of it. The thought of why he would need bodyguards upset and frightened her. But more than anything else, Leslie was angry.
She slowed her rapid steps as she approached a bank of dollar slot machines. Leslie felt Flint come to a stop beside her as she fumbled with the catch on her small evening bag. She snagged a nail and cursed in an undertone. Dammit! she wailed inwardly. First the escalator, now this stupid catch! How dare he say she knew he was in a high-risk business from the beginning? He had begun this... this whatever it was, not she!
“You’re going to play the machines?” Flint’s tone was heavy with disbelief, which merely added fuel to her anger.
“I’d say that was a pretty dumb question,” she fairly snarled, “since I’m standing directly in front of one.” The silence that ensued was infinitely more frightening than learning about his bodyguards. Already regretting her snide remark and the sharpness of her tone, Leslie suffered his cold silence in remorse.
“Don’t push your luck, honey.” Flint’s voice was terrifying in its icy softness.
Feeling the chill to her toes, Leslie didn’t have to be told that he was not referring to the machines or any other games of chance. Tension humming along her nerves, a cloying sense of fear pervading her being, she stood staring sightlessly at the three stilled reels behind the rectangular window on the slot machine. She came to the conclusion that for her Falcon was the biggest gamble in town. In her distraction, Leslie was unaware of her fingers picking at the purse clasp.
“Oh, for God’s sake, here!” Pulling her hand away from the purse, Flint slapped a hundred-dollar bill into her palm. “Where did you get that bag, Wells Fargo?”
“I don’t want your money, Falcon.”
Flint ignored her low, gritty tone and the bill she shoved at him. “I’ve upset you.”
Trying to collect herself, Leslie crumpled
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