Deadly Odds Read online

  “Kate?”

  She grabbed Ross’s jacket sleeve, halting him. Being obvious right now would possibly tip someone off.

  He cocked his head and studied her. “Something wrong?”

  “Look enamored.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not a problem.”

  She rolled her eyes—such a player—but moved closer. To anyone watching, she was a woman flirting with the more-than-handsome man next to her. With the way Ross Cooper filled out a suit, no one would think her crazy. She tilted her head up, stared at his lips a second and, well, maybe she wasn’t pretending to flirt because—wow—her body had gone on a full tingly alert. Ross cocked his head, clearly enjoying the show. She smiled and inched closer.

  “There’s a man at mini-bac. Green shirt. Call Don and ask him to check that tight zoom of yours. I think Green Shirt just capped his bet after the dealer showed the winning cards.”

  Wouldn’t this be something? Her first day at Fortuna and she catches someone trying to slide an extra chip on his bet while the dealer was distracted paying the other players.

  Ross grabbed his phone. No questions. No comments. No skepticism. Just immediate action.

  He stepped away from passing patrons, spent all of fifteen seconds on the phone with Don, then walked back to Kate. “He’s having surveillance check it. Give me a second to talk to the pit.” He squeezed her arm. “Wait here.”

  He strode into the pit area, smiling at the diamond-draped women, slapping the backs of a couple of the male players. A master glad-hander at work. No wonder the gaming industry loved him. Young, ambitious and handsome, Ross Cooper was gaming’s thirty-four-year-old George Clooney.

  And she might have a mad crush on him. Which didn’t bode well for her no-fraternization rule. Certain things she wouldn’t do. Getting personally involved with a client or a co-worker ranked right up at the top. For a woman bent on a career, the fallout could be too costly.

  She’d worked too hard to lose her professional reputation over a simple crush. Over sexual attraction.

  After talking with the pit boss, Ross came back to her. “You called it. Surveillance checked the video. He moved the bet. The dealer will warn him. He’s a new player. Supposedly. We’ll keep an eye on him. Nice catch, Ms. Daniels.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Now, can I see your surveillance room?”

  He slapped his hand against his chest. “A little forward, don’t you think? I mean, really, I’m not that kind of guy.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. If ever a man deserved a slap, it was Ross Cooper. “Please. You are definitely that kind of guy.”

  Chapter Three

  Just shy of Ross dropkicking his good sense and making a move on Kate Daniels, his phone buzzed. Ignore it. He’d like to. There’s a departure. For him anyway. Call it exhaustion, call it a lack of female company since Fortuna’s opening, call it being horny, but he suddenly wanted to ditch his job.

  Can’t. The phone buzzed again and he ripped it from his belt. Marcia. “Hey.”

  “Problem,” Marcia said. “Mrs. Miller fell at table thirteen.”

  Ah, shit. When a high roller—a whale among whales—brought his eighty-year-old mother to the casino, there’d be no delay in checking on her. Plus, her wicked humor reminded him of his grandmother and he’d developed an affection for her. “How bad is it?”

  “I’m not sure. We called an ambulance just in case. Figured you’d want to know.”

  “You figured right. Thanks.”

  Before Fortuna opened, Mrs. Miller had accompanied her son on gambling trips to Dominion. In the time he’d been at Dominion, Ross had grown to enjoy her unabashed love of bawdy behavior. Pretty much, he enjoyed her. She made him laugh and not take life too seriously, and that could never be underrated. In fact, Ross suspected if she were younger, she’d make a pass at him.

  Hell, she made passes at him anyway.

  He shoved the phone into his belt holder, grabbed Kate by the elbow and dragged her along as he hustled to table thirteen. “FYI, I was about to convince you to have a drink with me, but the mother of one of my whales was injured in a fall.”

  “Is she okay?”

  No reaction on the warning shot about the drink. Interesting. He loved a woman who made him work for it.

  Ross went left around the craps tables, bumping Kate, but hanging on to her arm so she didn’t go over. “Sorry.”

  “Not a problem. Where are we going?”

  He pointed straight ahead. “Right here. Table thirteen.”

  A crowd had gathered next to the table and he pushed his way through. Mrs. Miller would hate this. A proud woman, she wouldn’t want rubberneckers gawking at her. “Okay, everyone, let’s clear out. Nothing to see.”

  In the middle of the aisle lay Mrs. Miller in her Chanel suit. Her pixie cut gray hair standing on end—which she’d also hate. Her chunky, gold necklace had slipped tight and the damned thing was probably choking her. She stared up at him, grey-blue eyes busting with tears.

  The scene brought back the wrenching memory of finding Gram sprawled at the bottom of her stairs. They’d had a dinner date planned and when he’d swung by to pick her up, he found her. She’d been lying there for hours with a broken hip, unable to get to the phone. If he hadn’t shown up…Don’t go there.

  Horrible thought.

  He squatted down, eased the heavy necklace away from Mrs. Long’s throat and forced the grin she often cooed over. “Hey, gorgeous. Why are you on my floor causing a ruckus?”

  She tried a smile. Flat out failure. Damn. He grabbed his handkerchief from the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket and blotted her tears. “You know I’ve got you. Where does it hurt?”

  “My hip.”

  Not good.

  “We’re not gonna move you then. And no trying to get up.”

  She opened her eyes, stared up at him. “This is humiliating.”

  “Falling?”

  “Lying on this fucking floor.”

  He cracked up. Even in pain, she embodied a certain image—powerful and fierce, so much like his gram—and being spread out on a casino floor wouldn’t do.

  Distract her. Surrounded by gawkers—did these people not have money to lose?—he stretched out beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. “I don’t see what the issue is. I run this place and I’m down here.” He leaned forward, getting right next to her ear. “I know you’re playing me. All you want is for me to lie here with you.”

  She huffed. “Ross Cooper, I should skin you. Young man, if I were forty years younger, you’d be terrified of me.”

  “I’m already terrified. If you were forty years younger I’d be your love slave.”

  Mrs. Miller laughed, but it was followed by a wince. “You devil. Don’t make me laugh.”

  Next time he talked to Gram, he’d tell her this story. She’d appreciate the wackiness of him on the floor, talking dirty to an eighty-year-old woman. He was either going to hell or he’d be a hero. “Oh, come on. You know you love it. You’re the one who invited me into the sauna last week.”

  “You rejected me.”

  He snorted. “I didn’t reject you. I was working.”

  Her lips spread into a forced smile, but her eyebrows pressed into a tight line.

  Around them, the security guys cleared the rubberneckers. “Ambulance just pulled up, Mr. Cooper.”

  “Thanks, Marty. I’ll stay with Mrs. Miller until they get in here. Did we locate her son?”

  “They left him a message,” Mrs. Miller piped up. “He’s in a meeting.”

  Meeting. Right. Ross knew from the Miller’s casino host that the meeting included a brunette and a blonde dressed in matching Catwoman suits.

  “Marty, leave Mr. Miller a message to meet us at the hospital.” Ross clasped Mrs. Miller’s hand. “I’ll stay with you until he arrives. How’s that?”

  The look she gave him, those grey-blue eyes cloudy with pain, but thankful and scared all in one, nearly tore him in two.


  “Thank you.”

  “You bet. Just stay off my floor. I can’t have these gamblers distracted by sexy grandmothers. I got a business to run here.”

  “If I were forty years younger…”

  He smoothed her hair and tugged one of the short strands. “Promises, promises.”

  * * *

  I want him.

  Kate stood at the edge of the aisle watching paramedics transfer Mrs. Miller to a gurney while her mind replayed all the ways Ross Cooper could destroy her.

  1. He’s a player.

  2. He’s a player.

  3. He’s a player.

  And that list didn’t include shredding her professional reputation if she got mixed up with her seemingly irresistible client. For that reason, these crazy lust signals her body sent needed to be smothered. Just wiped out.

  Fast.

  “Ow,” Mrs. Miller complained.

  “Hey, guys, go easy,” Ross said in a voice that was neither harsh nor gentle and enough to let the paramedics know they’d better take good care of their patient.

  I want him.

  So much for smothering the idea. Right now, she couldn’t get enough of this man lying on the floor comforting an aging woman.

  Complication. Huge one.

  She’d been hired by Fortuna’s owner and chances were, at some point, she’d have to play hardball with Ross. His and Don’s reactions to her presence this morning already hinted their irritation. Sure they’d accommodated her, but they didn’t want a consultant picking apart their operation. Who could blame them?

  The paramedics secured Mrs. Miller on the gurney and headed toward the exit. Ross turned back to Kate and motioned her to walk with him. “Sorry about this. When her son arrives, I’ll come back.”

  And now he was worried about ending their meeting. “It’s fine. Really. I can meet with Don while you’re gone.”

  “I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Take care of her. If you’re detained, I can come back tomorrow.”

  The exit doors slid open and Kate stepped into the warmth of an eighty-degree October day. Under the awning, the paramedics loaded Mrs. Miller into the ambulance.

  Ross turned to Kate before hopping into the back of the ambulance. “I’ll be back.”

  * * *

  After close to two hours spent with Mrs. Miller—God forbid her son should take a break from the Catwoman twins—Ross entered the executive suite scanning emails on his phone while he walked.

  The man’s mother—that fierce, amazing woman—was in the hospital and he couldn’t drag himself from the Bat Cave any sooner? Unbelievable. I should have kicked his ass right in the emergency room. At least he wouldn’t have had far to go for treatment.

  Marcia leaped from her chair, grabbed her notepad and followed him into his office. “How’s Mrs. Miller?”

  “She was in x-ray when I left. The doc doesn’t think anything is broken.” Ross tossed his phone on the desk, slipped off his suit jacket and hung it in the closet. A piece of lint—at least it better be lint—caught his eye and he swiped at it.

  “Did her son arrive?”

  Her son. The insensitive dickwad.

  “Yeah,” Ross said. “Eventually.”

  He drew air through his nose, held it a few seconds then slowly blew it out. He needed to get his head back in the game here. “I expect we’ll be rescheduling the twins.”

  Marcia scoffed. “I don’t know how I’d survive without this job. Endless entertainment.”

  “Job security.” He dropped into his chair, scooped the messages she’d left on his desk and rifled through the first few. Nothing urgent. Finally a break. “What’s happening here?”

  “I rescheduled the three o’clock for tomorrow. You’re going to have a long day. Sorry.”

  He waved it off. “No sweat.”

  “I put all the meetings in the afternoon though so you’ll have the morning to catch up from today.”

  How he adored her. “You’re the best.”

  “I know. You tell me all the time.”

  “As of thirty minutes ago Ms. Daniels was with Don. He said something about the wedding chapel.”

  And he yells at me about chasing women. Ross laughed. And didn’t that feel great after this day?

  At least Ross didn’t have any ex-wives who wanted to bury his cold, lifeless body in the desert. Don harassed him 24/7 about his penchant for redheads, but when Ross left a relationship he did it on friendly terms.

  “I’m not sure where they are now. Want me to call Don?”

  “Please. Tell him I’m back and can take over.”

  “That’ll excite him. Although, I do think he has a crush on her. You know how he is. He’s got that hidden charm that sneaks up on you. If Kate’s not careful, she very well could wind up wife number four.”

  However much charm Don had, Ross didn’t think Kate would fall for it. She didn’t strike him as a woman who’d let a man get over on her. But damn, the idea of that gorgeous woman and Don?

  Blech. He drove his fingers into his eye sockets until pain exploded and the nasty vision of Kate’s long legs wrapped around Don disappeared. “No wife number four. Find them.”

  She saluted. “I’m on it. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  He closed his eyes, focused on getting today’s meetings handled. He needed a meditation class or something. Anything to calm the chaos constantly raging.

  “I ordered that clone for you,” Marcia said, “but it’s still on back order.”

  Good old Marcia. He opened his eyes, smacked his fingers on the edge of his desk. “Dammit, Marcia. When will he be available?”

  She grinned. “Half the women in Vegas are asking the same question. Oh, silly me, I shouldn’t have said that. Totally inappropriate.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Ross said. “Do me a favor though. Jason and Burke are coming in next week. Wednesday. Make sure Jason gets a suite on the south end of the building. He’s into views. Burke sleeps in and he’s a light sleeper so get him as far from an elevator as possible.”

  She jotted notes on her notepad. “I suppose you’ll have dinner with them Wednesday night?”

  “Yeah, but not here.”

  He’d learned the hard way—thanks to his mother—that if he didn’t leave the building, he’d obsess over what was happening in the casino and completely piss off his company by being distracted. And who could blame them? His life had turned into Godzilla. A two-headed one.

  “I’ll find you someplace. Any suggestions?”

  He thought about it. Jase and Burke had been his closest friends since business school. He knew their food preferences as well as his own. “Burke likes the steaks at Hennessy’s. See if they can get me in.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  “What problem?” This from Don standing in the doorway.

  Marcia swung around and Ross jerked his thumb at her. “Jason and Burke are showing up next week. Marcia thinks she can get us into Hennessy’s.”

  “Oh, I’ll do it.”

  After eight years of her throwing around Samuels’ name, seventy-five percent of the restaurant managers in Vegas were terrified of Marcia. The other twenty-five percent hadn’t experienced her yet. Poor schmucks had no idea the force that would eventually fly their way. Ross tapped his hands against the arms of his chair, his nervous energy and the sudden bombing of his schedule unnerving him. “What’s up, Don?”

  “The leggy redhead is in the lounge.”

  “Assuming you mean Ms. Daniels?”

  “Kate. She likes Kate.”

  “Right.”

  Don rolled one hand. “I told her I’d check if you were back. If you got too many bugs up your ass, I’ll move her along and tell her to come back tomorrow. Samuels will be happy and I’ll get something done.”

  Moving her along wouldn’t be a bad idea. What the hell did they need a security consultant for? Aside from Samuels wanting to aggravate them? “Our systems are locked, right? I m
ean, what’s Samuels doing? And don’t tell me he’s shitting elephants. I’ve got that.”

  Ross glanced at his dinging computer where the emails continued their bombing. Then there was the stack of paperwork Marcia had left at some point during his absence. He should deal with all of it now. Tell Kate to come back tomorrow. But tomorrow would be worse and there’d be no time then either.

  And crazy as it was, he wanted time for this particular woman.

  “Relax, Wonder Boy. He’s not questioning your management skills.”

  “You don’t think? We’re open three weeks and he’s sending someone to critique us?”

  Don shrugged. “You think he’s gonna find something? Because he won’t. Trust me on that.”

  He did trust Don. Who he didn’t trust was Samuels. Samuels knew Ross had a thing for redheads and the brilliant, scheming bastard had sent him the mother of all redheads. One so beautiful she could drive a man to his knees.

  Or the unemployment line.

  Don waggled a finger. “You’re afraid you’ll lose your Wonder Boy status.”

  Could happen. “Pfft.”

  “You’re attracted to her and you think she’s going to screw you. And not in the way you want.”

  “Are you done playing psychologist?”

  “Slice this any way you want, but if Samuels sent her here, she’s staying. I’ve worked for this guy thirty years. He’s a maniac, but he knows what he wants. Right now he wants this broad to tell him what he wants to hear. Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. You can’t get worked up. She’s not going anywhere and you’re not gonna get fired over what she tells him. I guarantee that.” He jabbed his finger. “Nobody is pulling any shit in our casino. We’re solid here.”

  Don’s phone rang. A Hail Mary sent to save Ross from this conversation.

  “Go,” Ross said.

  “We good here?”

  “Yeah. We’re good. I’ll handle Kate Daniels.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Chapter Four

  The casino lounge was busy for three o’clock on a Monday. Not that Ross would complain, but the noise level didn’t exactly make for easy conversation. All around him strategically placed tables allowed for crowds, but also for aesthetics and movement.