Concealment (The Cassano Series Book 1) (10 page)

Adrian

“I can’t watch this,” I mumble before stomping out of the office in my penthouse. I need to stop staring at these fucking cameras all damn day, especially when Victoria is working.

Why does it even bother me that another man is hitting on her?

Rick Jacobs. Other than tax evasion, the guy is straight. He’s single and one of the wealthiest men in the city.

She’s been paying him a lot of attention this evening. Is it part of her master plan or genuine interest?

Fuck
, I hate this emotion. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt it, and it’s been a long ass day. I worked from noon until ten tonight, so I head to the bathroom to shower before Victoria arrives.

As I shut the door, I hear my phone ring. It’s Kruse. “What do you need?” I ask without a hello.

“I thought you’d want to know Vicky Stuart collapsed in the lounge. Simon and Shannon are checking her out now.”

What the hell?

“I just saw her on the cameras working.” While talking, I’m hustling back to my office.

Sure enough, Victoria is on the floor. People are hovering over her, so I can only see part of her legs. “Find out if she needs an ambulance,” I bark into the phone.

I watch as Kruse speaks to Shannon.

“She’s waking up,” he says to me.

“Then bring her to my penthouse.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Bring her up here. I’ll call a nurse to take a look at her.”

“But Simon—”

“I’ll deal with my brother. Just do it.” I end the call before he can reply and watch as Shannon and Rick, the man who was just touching Victoria, help her up from the floor. As she starts to fall, Kruse steps in and catches her.

Simon is right next to them, and I see him talking to Kruse. Simon looks pissed as he turns and says something near Shannon’s ear.

In only seconds, he and Kruse are helping Victoria out of the room. Wanting police and ambulance services at this hotel and casino as little as possible, I pay to keep a small medical staff here. I call a nurse and request he come to the penthouse.

Hearing the knocking on the door, I open it, ready for the earful I’m going to receive from my brother.

“What the hell is going on? Don’t feed me any bullshit, either,” Simon says as he holds Victoria up on one side.

“Get her in here and we’ll talk.”

With Kruse assisting, he takes her to the sofa.

“Oh, wait, would you prefer her be in your bed?” he asks sardonically.

“Stop being a dick. Right here is good.”

Victoria’s eyes open, and she mumbles something to the effect of being fine. She begins to sit up, but I lightly push her back onto the cushions.

“Kruse, go watch for the nurse,” I say. Motioning for my brother to follow me, I walk into the kitchen and pull a glass from the cabinet.

“You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I haven’t slept with her.” I say this in an aggressive whisper, hoping he’ll take the damn hint to keep his voice down.

“It’s my business when it has to do with
our
business. She works for you, and I’ve turned down more ass than I could count in this hotel because we agreed from the beginning that we wouldn’t fuck the staff.”

Thinking of how to respond, I fill the glass up with water. When I turn, Simon’s hands are fisted by his hips.

“God, you need to get a grip on your anger.”

“Just say it. You like her.”

His shaggy hair is messy, and his dark eyes are full of aggression. The grey dress shirt he’s wearing has been pulled partly out from his dress pants, probably from moving Victoria.

He looks like he needs sleep, too. We’re way overdue for a long chat about his mental state, but now is not the time for it.

“It’s not serious,” I say.

“Then don’t see her.”

I rub my forehead. “OK, I like her, but it’s nothing for you to be concerned with. Things change, and I want to see her.”

“Whatever. You know I get a vibe about things, and something doesn’t feel right here.”

“You’re paranoid. Go take care of your club, stop micromanaging Shannon, and don’t worry about my personal life.”

“She better not be passed out in there because she’s using.” He’s pointing at me like he calls the shots, and I’d like nothing more than to put his ass on the ground. He’s pissing me off.

“She’s not doing drugs.”

“You’ve known her for how long to determine this?”

“Get out. I’m a grown man and older than you, so I don’t have to listen to your shit.”

Simon storms out, and I hurry to the living room to check on Victoria. She’s sitting up with her back against the arm of the sofa.

Her legs are stretched out in front of her, and I want to cover her with my body. Instead, I hand her the glass of water. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful, and this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry I’m causing problems between you and your brother. He seems to hate me.”

“He doesn’t know you. He’s protective of our family and this business. It’s not personal.”

She swings her legs around. “I’m going to go.”

Stepping in front of her, I put my hands out.

“You’re not going anywhere. A nurse is coming up to examine you.”

“I have to get home and to bed. I need sleep.” She’s shaking her head no the entire time I’m attempting to lie her back down.

“Why are you so tired?” I already know the answer to this, but I want to hear her excuse.

“Uh, I’ve not been sleeping well.” There’s a knock at the door, so I leave to answer it. Kruse is standing next to the male nurse who I have follow me to Victoria.

She argues, but I ignore her and nod for the nurse to begin. Sighing, she finally lies back on the sofa.

After he completes an examination, we find out her blood pressure is low, as well as her sugar level.

The nurse insists she eat, rest and drink a lot of fluids. I’m seriously pissed that she’s been so careless with her health.

Victoria hasn’t eaten all day and didn’t have dinner after I left her last night. She hasn’t even consumed a glass of water, only coffee, which is a diuretic.

I feel a pang of guilt that she’s working two jobs because of me, and why in the hell do I give a damn?

I’m fully aware she wants to uncover me doing something wrong, yet I can’t help but like the woman.

I believe she feels the same toward me, and I guess that’s why I continue to allow myself to get closer to her.

What if she’s a damn good actress? There are plenty of them in Vegas, putting on a front for their gain.

After showing the nurse out and refilling the glass of water, I stick it out for Victoria to take.

“Drink.”

“Bossy much?” she asks. I push her legs over and sit on the edge of the couch next to her thigh.

My finger moves a section of her blonde wig away from her face. Revealing a pin holding it on, I pull it out and search for the others, carefully removing them.

She remains still as I pull off the wig and lay it on a table next to the sofa, along with the pins.

My fingers comb through her sensuous curls, bringing them out to drape over her shoulders. Bumps rise on her arms, and I feel the bulge forming in my pants.

“Why aren’t you taking better care of yourself? I watched you chow down on a burger, fries and milkshake the other day.”

“I’ve been busy,” her eyes dart around the room, “and distracted.”

“What’s distracting you?”

“It’s not a ‘what’ but a ‘who.’”

“I’m not a mind reader. You’re going to have to give me a little more to work with here.”

Her eyes come back to me, those puddles of deep green, brighter than a forest after a rainfall.

God, I need to touch her.

“OK, grumpy, I’m distracted by you.” Sticking her finger out, she pokes my leg. A coy smile builds from her lips, and the anger, along with the little distrust I felt toward her vanish.

“You were supposed to show up here prepared for me to touch you, and now I can’t, so stop looking at me like you would let me.”

She frowns and adjusts her head to stare up at the ceiling.

“What would you like to eat?”

“You don’t need to feed me, but I’ll let you take me home.”

“You’re not going to be alone tonight.”

Sitting up farther on the sofa, her cleavage leans forward, saying hello, and I’m more than willing to play the good host to them.

“I can’t stay here,” she spouts.

“Why not?”

“We’ve been over this.”

“You’re staying. I have several bedrooms and can get you anything you need. Now, what do you want to eat?”

Her arms cross and lips purse.

“Fine. Since the nurse thinks my iron is probably low, too, I want a steak, medium-well, a baked potato and vegetables.”

I smirk. “Anything else?”

“A dinner roll, a piece of pie and apple juice, preferably in a box.”

My eyebrows raise. “Apple juice. You want a juice box?”

“Is there a problem with my request?”

“No, we feed children in this hotel, so I’m sure we have apple juice in at least one of the restaurants, but I can’t guarantee it’s in a box.”

“I would also like to get my things from my locker.”

“I’ll have Shannon gather your belongings.”

Panic plagues her face for a few seconds before she calms. “I guess that’s OK.”

I imagine she was taking a mental inventory of what she has with her. I leave her alone and go to my office to make a few calls.

I won’t deny it felt good having the power to take her away from Rick Jacobs. I’m going to take care of her tonight.

Victoria

I’m an idiot. If I had been hurt worse and ended up at the hospital, I could’ve blown my cover.

I haven’t been myself ever since I stepped foot into Adrian’s office for the first time, and I don’t like it. People don’t take care of me. I take care of me.

“I thought you might want something to sleep in,” he says, returning to the living room with a sweatshirt in hand. I can’t help but smirk.

“I’m already in a nighty.”

“And you look incredible in it, but I thought this might be more comfortable.”

His eyes rake down my body before I stand and take hold of the shirt. He doesn’t let go, so I stare up at his handsome face.

“Thank you.”

His free hand clasps my chin.

“You had me worried. Please take better care of yourself.”

His head dips ever so slowly, my breath hitching from the anticipation. Warm lips barely land on mine.

One soft kiss is placed before he’s blasting me once again with his intense gaze. The doorbell rings, and I pull away.

“Can you direct me to the bathroom?”

Adrian points toward a hallway.

“It’s the first door on the right.”

Stepping into the spacious room, I feel lightheaded. Gazing at myself in the mirror, I examine my pale, dull skin.

What does he see in me? In his mind, I’m a poor server. I’m a woman who lives in a shady part of town, and aside from exercising regularly, puts little effort into how I appear.

I guess that’s changing. I bring a hand up and admire my shiny painted nails. I like them. Somehow, it makes me feel more in control … more put together.

After unclipping the hose from the garter part of my skirt, I slip the spaghetti straps from my shoulders and pull off my uniform.

The thigh highs are removed next, and wearing only a black silky thong, I pull the sweatshirt over my head.

It’s large but still barely covers my ass. I feel no less self-conscious, but it’s warm and comforting, which is nice since I’m feeling shitty physically.

The plain grey sweatshirt has “USMC” on the front in black lettering. The United States Marine Corp.

Glancing around the room, I’m taken aback from the size of it. There isn’t even a tub or shower in this bathroom yet it’s huge.

The vanity is a tan and white swirl of marble, and there is an intricate row of copper light fixtures going across the top of the mirror. They have a soft glow to them, reminding me of candles.

After I’ve folded my clothes and attempted to freshen up, I exit. I should’ve waited for my own clothing to arrive. He probably wanted to see me in only this damn sweatshirt.

Mmm … I smell food the second my feet touch the living room. Not seeing Adrian, I pad across the wooden floor that is made up of a few different shades of brown.

The furniture is beige, and although the space is wide open, it has a somewhat homey feel.

There are framed photos of antique cars gracing the walls, and a high table against the back of the sofa is covered in what I’m guessing are family photographs.

As much as I’m interested in looking at them, the aroma of food pulls me toward another room. I gasp when I round the corner.

It’s the dining room, and windows line the entire back side. The Vegas Strip is lit up like a Christmas tree behind the glass.

A rich hickory table matched with ten chairs, covered in a beige fabric, sit atop a light oak floor. At one end, Adrian is placing cutlery on a cloth napkin next to a spread of food.

Covering my mouth, I chuckle when I spot the juice box. I feel kind of bad for the inconvenience I might’ve caused.

He looks over, and after eyeing every inch of me, his Adam’s apple moves noticeably as he swallows. “Why are you laughing?”

“The juice box. I was attempting to be playfully difficult when I asked for it.”

He continues to stare at me with lustful eyes. I walk toward him to break the uncomfortableness, but the closer I get to the fancy table and plate of food, the more out of place I feel.

Coming to a stop a few feet away, I chew on the inside of my mouth and stare at the evidence of his kind nature. His hands find the back of the chair. “Sit and eat.”

“I’m sorry, but I feel out of place, and I’m barely dressed.”

“You’ll be staying here another night if you don’t eat.” He’s giving me a stern look, so I scrunch my forehead and give one back as I cross my arms.

This pulls up the sweatshirt I’m wearing, causing his eyes to momentarily drift to my thighs.

“Alright, I’ll eat.” He helps scoot me up to the table, and I smile as I account for all the food. “Even living in Vegas, I don’t recall ever eating a steak dinner at midnight.”

Peering up, I see him smile, but his expression abruptly changes to one of distress. Adrian is mercurial.

I know why my mood dances back and forth when he’s near. My internal struggle over deceiving him only grows with every kind act he exhibits.

Each sensual look and touch lures me in a little further. What is his internal struggle? That’s what I need to find out.