Desert Oasis. He could
just as easily have completed it in the morning, but he’d wanted to
finish it tonight. A bartender at Connect , the hotel’s
popular lobby lounge, had been arrested for theft. As assistant
chief, it had been Nick’s responsibility to liaise with the city
police, who had hauled the man away in handcuffs less than an hour
ago.
Just another twelve-hour day in Sin City.
Fortunately, he’d been too busy all evening
to focus on his uncharacteristic preoccupation with Sadie Bligh.
But as he thought about heading home, the cute, clumsy babe popped
through the door of his brain—almost as if she’d been leaning on
the bell all night. That didn’t exactly surprise him. Before this
case of theft had dropped onto his desk, he’d had every intention
of tracking her down and trying to talk her into...what? A date?
Something that would have ended up with them both in the prone
position if he’d had anything to say about it.
He rose from his desk and grabbed his jacket
as he considered his options. There was every chance that if he
went back to his place now, he’d just lie awake thinking about her,
anyway. That exercise in frustration would drive him crazy, so he
gave in to the nagging voice telling him to go look for her. One
pass through the casino and a quick look into Esprit and Energie, the hotel’s two dance clubs—that would be the
extent of his search. If he hadn’t found her by then, he’d give it
up for the night.
Nick strode quickly down each main aisle of
the casino, scanning the rows of slots and gaming tables. As much
as he tried to block it, an image of her dancing and laughing with
that idiot from the pool swarmed into his head and latched on like
a computer virus. It made him feel like a caveman stereotype, but
if he actually saw the two of them together he’d run the guy off.
Again. No way was anyone else getting near her if he could help it.
At least not until he’d had his shot.
And Ms. Sadie Bligh deserved his best
shot.
He’d have to be smart, though. Inside the
hotel, he had to play it straight and cool. Outside the hotel…well,
that was something else.
After striking out on the casino floor, Nick
headed for the nightclubs. As usual, mostly young guests and
bar-hoppers had jam-packed Esprit . Its glittering décor,
high-tech sound and lighting, and celebrity clientele had made it
one of the Strip’s more popular nightclubs. He slipped past the
lineup outside the club’s door and headed straight to the
glass-and-steel bar. Every one of the bar stools had a well-toned
ass perched on it, but he wasn’t there to sit and nurse a drink,
anyway.
Maria, an Italian-born stunner who worked
tending bar, gave him a warm smile, full of its usual sexy mystery.
As he checked out the tantalizing way she filled her tight, black Esprit tee shirt, he pondered the good fortune of her
husband, a Vegas firefighter.
“Working late again, Nick?” she asked.
“What else is new, beautiful?” He gave her a
slight smile but let the small talk go at that. “Maria, I could use
your help. I know you see too many people pass through here to
remember individuals. But maybe you can recall a couple of women
I’m looking for? Both are around thirty or so, good-looking. Not
Vegas regulars. The taller one is thin with long, straight blond
hair—”
Maria interrupted him, laughing. “That covers
at least half the women in this place.”
“Exactly why I need your help,” he said.
“You’re more likely to remember the shorter one, anyway. Curly
hair, reddish brown, pretty face with a smallish nose. Amazing
body—you know, great curves in all the right places. And she might
be having some trouble walking if she’s wearing high heels.”
“O—kay.” Maria nodded. “Those two came in a
while ago. But it was the blonde who could hardly stand up. She was
totally loaded. The short one looked reasonably sober—at least by
comparison.” She stood on her tiptoes and scanned the
just as easily have completed it in the morning, but he’d wanted to
finish it tonight. A bartender at Connect , the hotel’s
popular lobby lounge, had been arrested for theft. As assistant
chief, it had been Nick’s responsibility to liaise with the city
police, who had hauled the man away in handcuffs less than an hour
ago.
Just another twelve-hour day in Sin City.
Fortunately, he’d been too busy all evening
to focus on his uncharacteristic preoccupation with Sadie Bligh.
But as he thought about heading home, the cute, clumsy babe popped
through the door of his brain—almost as if she’d been leaning on
the bell all night. That didn’t exactly surprise him. Before this
case of theft had dropped onto his desk, he’d had every intention
of tracking her down and trying to talk her into...what? A date?
Something that would have ended up with them both in the prone
position if he’d had anything to say about it.
He rose from his desk and grabbed his jacket
as he considered his options. There was every chance that if he
went back to his place now, he’d just lie awake thinking about her,
anyway. That exercise in frustration would drive him crazy, so he
gave in to the nagging voice telling him to go look for her. One
pass through the casino and a quick look into Esprit and Energie, the hotel’s two dance clubs—that would be the
extent of his search. If he hadn’t found her by then, he’d give it
up for the night.
Nick strode quickly down each main aisle of
the casino, scanning the rows of slots and gaming tables. As much
as he tried to block it, an image of her dancing and laughing with
that idiot from the pool swarmed into his head and latched on like
a computer virus. It made him feel like a caveman stereotype, but
if he actually saw the two of them together he’d run the guy off.
Again. No way was anyone else getting near her if he could help it.
At least not until he’d had his shot.
And Ms. Sadie Bligh deserved his best
shot.
He’d have to be smart, though. Inside the
hotel, he had to play it straight and cool. Outside the hotel…well,
that was something else.
After striking out on the casino floor, Nick
headed for the nightclubs. As usual, mostly young guests and
bar-hoppers had jam-packed Esprit . Its glittering décor,
high-tech sound and lighting, and celebrity clientele had made it
one of the Strip’s more popular nightclubs. He slipped past the
lineup outside the club’s door and headed straight to the
glass-and-steel bar. Every one of the bar stools had a well-toned
ass perched on it, but he wasn’t there to sit and nurse a drink,
anyway.
Maria, an Italian-born stunner who worked
tending bar, gave him a warm smile, full of its usual sexy mystery.
As he checked out the tantalizing way she filled her tight, black Esprit tee shirt, he pondered the good fortune of her
husband, a Vegas firefighter.
“Working late again, Nick?” she asked.
“What else is new, beautiful?” He gave her a
slight smile but let the small talk go at that. “Maria, I could use
your help. I know you see too many people pass through here to
remember individuals. But maybe you can recall a couple of women
I’m looking for? Both are around thirty or so, good-looking. Not
Vegas regulars. The taller one is thin with long, straight blond
hair—”
Maria interrupted him, laughing. “That covers
at least half the women in this place.”
“Exactly why I need your help,” he said.
“You’re more likely to remember the shorter one, anyway. Curly
hair, reddish brown, pretty face with a smallish nose. Amazing
body—you know, great curves in all the right places. And she might
be having some trouble walking if she’s wearing high heels.”
“O—kay.” Maria nodded. “Those two came in a
while ago. But it was the blonde who could hardly stand up. She was
totally loaded. The short one looked reasonably sober—at least by
comparison.” She stood on her tiptoes and scanned the
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