than if she’d tried to meet with the President of the United States. In the end, the most Bobby’s secretary would promise was a tentative appointment in six weeks, or Roxie was welcome to send correspondence addressing her complaint.
Of course, both of those options were unacceptable. Exactly how did you accuse someone of theft in a letter? Especially when you had no proof! Besides, she didn’t have six weeks. Her parents needed the money back right away.
Believing they would soon be moving into their newly built condominium, they’d sold their home without Roxie’s knowledge, and were now only days away from being forced to leave.
Roxie made a decent salary, and if push came to shove, she knew she could take care of her folks. Although, she was certain her parents would fight her tooth and nail before accepting her help. Anyway, it was not the money that had brought her to this act of desperation.
No, what had brought her here was the look of humiliation she’d seen in Theo’s eyes when he’d been forced to reveal to Roxie all that had transpired.
Pressed for time, and knowing she would get no help from the authorities, Roxie decided to fight fire with fire. Bobby Kincaid had stolen the money from her parents, and tonight she would steal it back. If only she could keep the wolf at bay for another thirty minutes.
She’d spent a fortune on creating just the right look tonight. She needed to be a high roller. An experienced gambler, whom Bobby Kincaid would tolerate, believing that, in the end, she would lose more than she won. And true to her role, Roxie had consistently allowed herself to lose the occasional hand throughout the evening. But obviously she had not lost enough.
She discreetly watched as Wolfie approached. The closer he came, the more imposing he became. She sat ramrod-straight in her chair…waiting.
But instead of stopping at her stool, he walked right past her and around the table to sit directly opposite her. As he took a seat, he motioned to the dealer to deal him in to the hand.
It took all of Roxie’s concentrated effort not to stare at the newcomer. This man was very different from the one casually relaxing at the bar. That man was a nonthreatening, grayish blur. The superfine brother sitting across from her was dangerous and vivid in the extreme. His caramel-brown skin was tinted with a touch of reddish hue that seemed enhanced by the bright casino lights. His full lips were perfectly outlined with a thin mustache and goatee. His dark hair was close-cropped and freshly trimmed. The snug-fitting, coffee-colored sweater and matching slacks indicated a very fit body beneath.
This was not your typical rent-a-cop security guard that worked the Vegas casino strip, Roxie thought. This was definitely a different breed. Maybe Wolfie wasn’t such a good nickname. Now, that seemed too apt a description.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes and looked directly at her for the first time. Coal-black eyes as dark as a starless night and just as unsettling pinned her to her chair. Gypsy eyes, trimmed in the longest, blackest lashes she’d ever seen, studied her, seeking the answers he knew her lips would never reveal. It was like he’d reached beyond the surface and was searching her soul.
Roxie quickly looked away.
She tried to ignore the man, but with each hand, another player dropped from the game until only the two of them were left. She studied her hand, biting her lip in concentration.
“It’s your play.” The sultry voice drifted across the table, and Roxie looked up in surprise to find those intense, dark eyes on her once again. He was waiting, watching like the careful predator he was. Roxie felt trapped. Something about those eerie eyes spoke of unseen peril. She realized in that instant just how little she knew about the people she was dealing with.
This was Vegas, after all—ruled with an iron fist by a small group of overlords.
What if Bobby Kincaid decided to carry out his own brand of justice? What if the man sitting across from her was the only judge or jury she would ever stand before?
Suddenly, her little plan to take back what had been taken didn’t seem as clever as it had that morning. She looked at the large pile of chips in the middle of the table, considering how close she’d come to winning her parents’ money back. But getting arrested—or worse—wouldn’t help Theo and Tessa. She would have to find another way.
Roxie turned her cards face down and gently placed them on the green felt table. “I fold.”
The wolf quirked a curious eyebrow.
The dealer watched the play before speaking. “Lady Luck is obviously on your side. Are you sure you want to end your winning streak?”
Roxie stood. “I think I better end my streak, before my streak ends me.”
The man on the other side of the table was studying her with a strange expression. “If you walk now, you’ll lose everything.” He gestured to the large pile of chips in the center of the table.
Her heart sank as she realized all her effort had been futile. She came in with nothing and was about to leave with nothing. She tried to paste on her most benign smile. “A true gambler knows not to push her luck.”
Ike tossed his cards down and stood, coming around the table to block her path. “Is that your secret? Luck?” he asked with poorly veiled sarcasm.
Her eyes narrowed when she noted how neatly he’d cut off her exit. “What else would it be?”
He gave a slight nod to someone behind her. “I don’t know, some of the truly high rollers claim to have a method.”
Roxie began backing away from the table and then stopped when she saw one of the little wolves standing in the path to the nearest exit. She turned and looked at another exit, and yes, there was the other little wolf in position. And all with a nod of his head, Roxie thought, as she met his steady eyes, which were boring into her.
“Well, I’m not a true high roller.” Roxie stepped back again.
For every one of her backward steps, Ike took a step forward. He watched her look around in every direction, clearly wondering if she were crazy enough to make a run for it.
He extended his hand. “Ike Bancroft, casino security. And you are?”
Roxie stared down at his long, elegant fingers. She forced another stiff smile. “Roxie…Smith.”
Ike smiled, probably at her lack of creativity. “Roxie…that suits you.”
Roxie looked around again. “You think so?”
He nodded slowly in affirmation, as his eyes slid over her slender form, taking in the gold dress that fit so well. “So, Roxie, can I buy you a drink?”
Chapter 2
“No thanks.” Roxie turned sharply, preparing to flee, and felt her arms suddenly locked in a vise grip.
“Not so fast.” His soft breath tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck.
“Let go of me,” she hissed between clamped teeth. Roxie yanked against his hold, but struggling against him was like fighting bands of steel. “You can’t prove anything.”
She gasped in surprise at her own words, realizing she’d as much as confessed. “I said, let me go. You have nothing to hold me on,” she spat, realizing their private battle was becoming public.
“Why don’t we have a little chat, first.” Pushing her ahead of him, Ike guided her across the crowded casino with little effort.
Every once in a while Roxie would jerk discreetly in a continuous, but useless effort to free herself, or try to catch the eye of one of the casino patrons in a silent plea for help. Once she almost succeeded when a man standing near a roulette table saw the desperation in her eyes. He started to move toward the couple, but the cold, dead stare he received from her companion stilled his desire to be a hero. The Good Samaritan found his feet frozen in place.
Once they