“Yes.” He continued to search the people going by. Cynthia might be in disguise, but she was his sister. He’d know her if he saw her face, even if she was wearing a wig, different clothes, and wild makeup. But the sidewalk was crowded. They could be anywhere.
“Well, we’re not in control,” Giselle said, “but we can choose our next move. I suggest we continue on to the Bellagio, watch the fountain show, and see what happens.”
“Might as well.” He took her hand as they made their way to the front of the Bellagio and found a spot by the railing. At that point he couldn’t come up with a good excuse for holding on to her, so he let go. He missed that connection instantly.
“Perfect spot.” She smiled at him.
He was beginning to look for ways to make her smile because he enjoyed seeing her do it. That probably wasn’t a good sign that he was ignoring his attraction to her. “At least I don’t have to worry about getting wet this time,” he said. “I doubt Cynthia could jimmy the fountain so it sprays on me.”
“I doubt Cynthia would want to face vandalism charges for jimmying the fountain at the Bellagio.”
“I wish I knew how long they intend to keep this up.” Then something occurred to him. As long as they chased around after Cynthia, he had an excuse to be with Giselle. Once this exercise was over, Giselle would leave. He realized he wasn’t looking forward to that.
“I suspect she’s hoping to wear you down. I—” She abandoned whatever she’d been about to say as the music swelled. “Oh, look. It’s starting.”
He’d seen the current show dozens of times, both from this vantage point, where he could hear the music, and from the windows of the penthouse, where he could only watch the plumes of water arching into the air. From forty floors up, the effect wasn’t as spectacular as it was standing here, surrounded by music from top-grade speakers.
Luke always enjoyed the experience, but never more than now, when he was able to watch Giselle’s reaction to it. She held on to the railing as if needing to anchor herself to reality. Her expression was rapt, almost childlike, as she watched the dancing water.
The music vibrated around and through them, arousing Luke in a way it hadn’t before. The bass seemed to resonate with greater force, and the violins sang along his nerve endings, teasing him with desires he had no business having. In his imagination, he and Giselle were the only two people here.
Inappropriate though it might be, he pictured them making love in time to the music and the cascading water. Eventually the crotch of his jeans pinched, reminding him that they were not alone, and he’d better imagine something else. He’d be wise to imagine Giselle getting on a plane in a few days, because she would definitely be doing that. She was the CFO of Landry Enterprises and her life was in San Francisco.
Then another thought hit him. The bad news was that Giselle would be going back to San Francisco. But maybe the good news was that Giselle would be going back to San Francisco. What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.
No, he was thinking crazy. Sure, he’d caught her looking at him during dinner in a way that might mean she was interested in him. But for all he knew, she had a steady guy back home.
If she was in a similar situation to his, and she was attracted to him at all . . . but he didn’t know the answer to those things. Still, the idea had taken up residence in his brain and he doubted it would go away anytime soon.
He glanced over at her and let the idea simmer a bit. She had a hotel room at Illusions, but while they were dealing with her brother and his sister, they really ought to stick together. Close together. Then he could find out the answer to some of his burning questions about her.
The more he thought about inviting her to spend the rest of her stay at the penthouse, the more he saw it as the perfect solution. They needed a command central, and the penthouse made the most sense. Having him at one end of the Strip and her at the other would be impractical.
The music swelled to a crescendo and the water shot into the sky with breathtaking force. The drama of the final moment was reflected in Giselle’s expression of awe. She’d been swept away. Luke longed to see that same dazzled look in her eyes in a far more intimate setting.
As if she felt his gaze on her, she looked at him. If he was any good at reading the message in a woman’s eyes—and he was—then her thoughts might not be so different from his. But he would make no assumptions about that. He’d keep watching her and try to pick up on her cues.
He gestured toward the fountain. “Great show, huh?”
“Wonderful.” Her breathing was quick and shallow, which meant that she’d been excited by the show, or excited by other thoughts that ran along the same lines as his. Maybe both.
“I think it was especially good tonight.” Now that was a boneheaded comment. The show was computerized, and unless the program didn’t work right, it would be the same exact presentation every time. He glanced up at the sky. “Perfect night for it.”
“I agree.” She had that cute little smile going on again, the one that told him she thought he was goofy. But she didn’t seem to mind goofy. But then she looked away, and the smile disappeared.
So maybe she did have someone else and had just reminded herself of that. He took a deep breath. “Well, nothing’s happened in connection with Cynthia, so maybe we should think about—”
“Excuse me.” A heavily tattooed woman with multiple earrings and a nose ring approached him. “Are you Luke Dalton?”
He wasn’t sure whether to admit it or not. The woman seemed a little scary. And she wasn’t Cynthia. His sister might be in disguise, but she’d never be able to make herself look like this without spending hours in the hands of a Hollywood makeup team. Cynthia hadn’t had hours to devote to such a project.
“It’s nothing bad,” the woman said. “I’m not going to serve you with a subpoena or anything. But you fit the description I was given, and I was told you’d be here with a redhead, watching the Bellagio fountain do its thing.” She pulled a manila envelope out of her large tote.
Luke recognized his sister’s handwriting on the outside of the envelope. “When did you get that?”
“I’m not supposed to say. I’m just supposed to give it to you and leave.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t refuse a tip, though.”
Luke dug out his wallet and located a hundred-dollar bill tucked behind the twenties. “If you’ll tell me when and how you got the envelope, and what the woman was wearing at the time, you can have this.”
Her eyes widened. “Uh . . . no. As much as I could use that, I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. You should let her dance, though. It’s not like she’s going to strip. I can see why you’d object to that, but what she wants—to dance with the Moonbeams—that’s classy.”
Luke was very aware of Giselle standing next to him listening to every word. “She told you about that?” he asked.
“Sure. We shared a moment. My family didn’t want me to get the tattoos and the piercings, but it’s my life, you know?” She glanced at Giselle. “You get what I’m saying, right? Once you’re an adult, you get to decide.”
“I agree,” Giselle said.
“I thought you would.” The woman moved a little closer to Giselle. “You look like a take-charge kind of lady. We can’t let other people push us around. Like present company, for example.”
Luke sighed.
“I completely agree,” Giselle said, suppressing her smile. She could see Luke was suffering through this conversation.
“Here.” Luke shoved the hundred-dollar bill at the woman. “Take it with my blessings. Now give me the envelope.”
“You bet.” She handed it over.
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get—”