Read Online Her 24-Hour Protector by Loreth Anne White - Free Book Online

speak to each other now. Not even in public.” She brushed it aside with a quick wave of her hand. “But that’s Vegas,” she said, as if it explained everything.
    Lex digested this information, wondering if the rivalry between the two casino moguls should be factored into his investigation. The FBI was looking for a motive—any motive—in Candace’s death. It was the one thing the LVMPD, and now the FBI, could not get a handle on. At first they’d thought she was killed because of The Tears of the Quetzal, but then the ring had mysteriously shown up again in the purse of a single mother. Nothing about this case was making sense.
    But Jenna artfully swung the focus back to him. “What happened to you, Lex, after your mother died? Did you stay with your dad?”
    He snorted, a little light-headed from all the alcohol. “I have no idea who my father is. He might be alive, somewhere here in Vegas. He might be anywhere in the world or deceased himself.”
    Jenna studied him in silence for several beats. “I know whatit’s like,” she said softly. “I mean, to lose a parent. I never knew my mother, either,” she said. “She died giving birth to me.”
    “That must be some cross to bear.”
    She laughed, making light of it, but a telltale glimmer in her eyes gave her away. Lex felt a soft blush of affection, which startled him.
    “Candace never let me forget it, either,” Jenna said. “She was the mean twin. Natalie was cool, but when we were kids, and Candace and I fought, Candace would accuse me of ‘killing’ our mom.” She shrugged. “I’m close to my dad, though. It makes up for it. Except…sometimes I think I remind him too much of June, my mother. I look a lot like her.”
    This was good, thought Lex. He was finally getting what he’d come for tonight—a better sense of family mechanics, of connections, of possible motives.
    “So you didn’t get along with Candace—you fought often?”
    “Ah, don’t think you can go looking at me for a murder motive, Agent Duncan.” Her lips curved. “No business, just dinner, remember?”
    “Touché.” He smiled, in spite of himself.
    “But your personal life we can talk about.” She placed her hand over his. Nerves and heat skittered though him. Little warning bells began to clang at the back of his brain, but he found himself ignoring them as he turned his hand face-up under hers and traced his thumb across her palm. “I suspect,” he said in a dark whisper. “That you’re still playing me, Ms. Rothchild. And I’m still wondering why.”
    Her eyelids dipped. She moistened her lips, swallowed. “Would you like to go somewhere for dessert, Agent Duncan?” she whispered.
    His heart kicked, then jackhammered. “You’re propositioning me?”
    She said nothing, just looked direct into his eyes.
    Heat speared into his groin. Panic circled.
    He had to extricate himself. Fast. Before he did something real stupid.
    He pulled his hand away abruptly. “It’s late. I think I’ve upheld my end of the bargain.” He plunked his napkin on the table, intending to get up.
    “Wait.” She grabbed his arm, forcing him back into his chair. He stared at her fingers on his arm, anxiety torquing. If he looked back into her eyes he’d be toast, and he knew it.
    “You can’t just leave like that.”
    “Why not? Or did you think plunking down a quarter of a million would buy bonus extras, Jenna? Like sex?”
    She stared at him in stunned silence for several beats. “Oh, that’s…harsh,” she whispered.
    “Well, then tell me exactly what you’re doing here? Because you’ve been playing me like some high-class trick roller.”
    She opened her mouth, at a loss for words. “Trick roller?” She cursed softly. “That is so low.”
    “Then what the hell do you want from me?”
    Raw hurt, then anger flared in her eyes. “You are so damn presumptuous!” she snapped. “I don’t need to pay for sex with…with an uptight hunk of frigid granite.” She pushed