Because you want her.
Yes, sheltering Kate at Vice was lunacy. She might implode from indignation alone. Was he just being a Good Samaritan? He’d never pictured himself in the role. Frankly, he’d been too busy trying to stay alive during his formative years. After losing his parents, things had degenerated so badly he’d barely bounced back.
But he had. He was a fighter.
And as a fighter, he’d learned to wear a mantle of distrust around his shoulders. The philosophy served him well, in business and in life. He knew there were few people in this world he could truly count on, at least of those who weren’t on his payroll. After all, he’d been betrayed by so many who were close to him. And the sense of abandonment he’d experienced after losing his parents was unparalleled.
He’d tried to be a good person and do a good thing by temporarily housing Kate. But he knew his motives ran deeper than simple philanthropy. She moved him. She excited him. And he needed to be inside her like he needed food and drink.
So what should a fighter with abandonment issues do? Well, clearly he had to persuade her to give into her own hunger. Because now that Kate was on his turf, he wasn’t letting her go.
By the evening of her second night at Vice, Kate was going stir-crazy. Staring at the same four walls, no matter how exquisite they were, made her break out in hives of restlessness. She needed to have a break from hotel TV programming and room service. She needed to stretch her legs.
Granted, the room service had been spectacular. Even though she’d tried to order the cheapest things on the menu, she’d been dazzled by the quality. The only room service she’d ordered before Vice was at some dingy hotel in Reno, where she’d had the processed chicken fingers with a side of nausea. But at Vice she’d had Angus burgers, freshly-squeezed juice and a breakfast platter of bacon and eggs Benedict that had her salivating just remembering them now. Liam had taken great pains to ensure even the casual fare at Vice was worthy of Michelin stars.
Just as he’d taken great pains to make her comfortable. Every few hours, she received calls from Liam’s assistant, a lady named Pearl, asking if she needed anything, and the man himself popped in frequently. He never stayed long. Each visit was fraught with tension, but he brought her lots of little treats. To say nothing of how Wade’s security detail stood sentinel outside her door. She felt like freaking royalty.
Or maybe a prisoner. No, definitely royalty.
Okay, more like a pretend princess with a lop-sided crown.
As nice as everything was, she needed an hour or two of fresh air, or a reasonable facsimile. Surely a change of scenery wasn’t off-limits. She’d spoken with the police again. They approved of the idea of her holing up at Liam’s hotel. Of course. It saved them from having to send officers to babysit her. However, they’d told her to stay put if she could. Any crook who’d break into a woman’s apartment and try to rearrange her face couldn’t be trusted not to do it again.
But a girl could only order pay-per-view for so long. She needed to see other people. It seemed her only option was to go for a walk within the confines of Vice, as much as the idea pained her.
“Oh, come on. It’s not as if you’re rolling the dice. You’re just going for a walk.”
She caught her reflection in the mirror and almost changed her mind. Her shiner had deepened into a hideous brown, as if covered in grotesque shadows. Thank God it hadn’t puffed up too much.
Still, did she really want to promenade around Vice like that? Perhaps she could disguise the bruises. Grabbing her makeup case from her suitcase, she headed to the bathroom.
With a light touch, she applied some foundation, taking care to add a little extra on the tender spots where her skin had turned green. When she’d finished, Kate judged the final product and decided she still looked like a woman trying to mask a hideous bruise. Sighing, she picked up her purple eye shadow, the one she never used because the aubergine shade overwhelmed her fair skin. Applying some to her eye shadow brush, she proceeded to paint her other eye, very much hoping the end result would be a stylish, smoky eye on both sides of her face.
She gazed at herself in the mirror. Between her red ponytail and colored eyes, she resembled a whorish, sleep deprived Pippi Longstocking. Realizing she’d never completely camouflage the black eye, she released her hair from its ponytail, brushed it and flipped it so the fall of hair mostly covered the bruised eye. Veronica Lake, she could never hope to be, but it was good enough.
Letting her hair down reminded her of when Liam had done the same. The moment had gone down in her personal history as one of the most seductive ever. To feel his big hands in her hair, with a gentle yet demanding touch, made her wonder if he was the sort of man who liked to pull hair in bed. The sort who would turn her onto all fours, gather her hair in his palm, and pound her to heaven.
She blinked hard and tried to dislodge the aggressive yet enticing vision from her brain. “Yikes.”
After taking a few cleansing but otherwise ineffective breaths, she changed into the best clothes she had brought with her. Clean jeans and a cotton top with a few sequins scattered beneath the neckline might not win her a prize at Fashion Week, but they’d do. She spritzed herself with her favorite perfume, the one that made her smell like her mom’s garden, grabbed her purse and opened the door.
Wade, now on duty, turned to greet her. He took in her outfit and hair with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, you look nice. Goin’ somewhere?”
“I was hoping to escape my suite for a little while. The walls are closing in on me.”
The big man smiled. “I get ya. Let me alert the team and I’ll show you around.”
“No chance of me getting away on my own for a bit?”
“Not if I value my job. Liam left strict instructions to cover you at all times.”
Ignoring the sudden flutter of nerves at the mention of Liam, she closed the penthouse door. “Well, I guess some company would be nice, too.” She deposited her key card in her wallet and heard Wade on his walkie-talkie, detailing their whereabouts to whoever was on the other end. Then he pulled out his cell phone and quickly texted someone.
“Who are you texting?”
“Liam.”
Of course. “Why?”
“He wanted to know when you left your room.”
“Surely he doesn’t need to know every time I pee.”
Wade suppressed a grin. “Something tells me the busy man will still appreciate knowing.”
Soon she was walking the casino floor, observing some of the customers with Wade in tow. It was easy to spot the gaming addicts from the various expressions on their faces—ranging from vacuous to obsessed. Each turn she took around the great room made her feel a little sadder. However, there were plenty of people there who just wanted a good time. Newly-married couples, singles on vacation. She even spotted a few who looked familiar. She suspected some of the ones wearing shades were celebrities. Liam certainly had a varied clientele. They weren’t all compulsives, either. Most just wanted to have a little fun.
For the first time in her life, she regretted taking such a hard stance on gambling. Who was she to judge everyone for the failings of a few? Addiction was inside us, and one way or another it tried to find a release. If she searched hard enough, she could probably find an addiction in everyone.
She certainly had one, a tall man with an intense gleam in his eyes.
They turned a corner and moved into an alcove with endless rows of slot machines. Kate noticed a man sitting at one, and something about his sandy hair made her look twice. She took a few more steps until she could make out his face.
Donny.
Lisa’s husband sat transfixed in front of the slot, his hand hovering over the various buttons. She cleared her throat, hoping to catch his attention, but nothing short of a crumbling sinkhole under him would distract him from his game.
She moved toward him but Wade put a hand on her arm. “You know that guy?”