High Stakes (8 page)

"Okay, here's the thing." Alexis wiped her hands on her jeans and prepared to eat crow for her sister's sake. "Ethan, well, he, uh, invited me to dinner.As his date."

Brittany's face lit up. "Alex! That's wonderful. When was the last time you went on a date? Like six years ago?"

It hadn't been that long. Surely there had been someone… like Jim back in law school… okay, so that
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had been six years. Damn. "I was thinking maybe I need to open myself up to new experiences." There, that sounded like Brittany-speak.All warm and fuzzy and full of self-realization.

Brittanygot out of the car finally, thank God, and winked at her. "That's not all you're going to be opening, if you know what I mean."

"Brittany Anne!" Crap, she was blushing.Mostly because she'd had a flash of memory of being under Ethan, her body hot and humming. She had so been lying when she'd said she wasn't attracted to him.

Brittanygrabbed her suitcase out of the backseat and giggled.

"It'sdinner, not a night of wild monkey sex."

"I bet vampires have great stamina."

"I'm sure they do." But Ethan wasn't a vampire, becausevam-pires didn't exist, and she wasn't going to sleep with him anyway. And if you really think he's a vampire, you shouldn't beencour -aging me to have dinner with him."

"Why not?He's a great guy.Very charming, with loads of manners. You could do worse."

"What if he sucks my blood?" Alexis asked.

"He hasn't sucked my blood yet."Brittany carried her suitcase toward the open garage door. "Besides, vampires puta glamour on you when they do it. You don't feel anything but pleasure."

"That sounds like kinky shit to me, and I don't do kinky. Nobody's puttinga glamour on me if they value their life." Not that they could, because they weren't really vampires. It. Was. A. Game.

"If they want to puta glamour on you, they can. But don'tworry, I don't think he would do that to you. If Ethan invited you to eat dinner, he's much too well mannered to
make
youdinner, you know what I mean, sweetie?"

Jesus.Brittany was making her head spin. And the words
eat
and
Ethan
in the same sentence weren't a good direction to be sending her libido in.

Alexis opened the interior door in the garage and walked into her white-on-white kitchen. "All I know is that someday you're going to settle down and marry an accountant and have cute, black-hairedbabies, and a little house inBoulderCity , and I am going to breathe a huge sigh of relief." She tossed her keys on the counter and wondered what was appropriate to pack for a week with a bunch of psychos playing an adult version of Dungeons & Dragons. Her wardrobe was sadly lacking in velvet capes.

Vampires.Please.

Brittanystartled her by throwing her arms around her from behind and giving her a big hug. "Alex, you know I love you. You're the best sister in the universe, and I don't mean to make you worry."

She pattedBrittany 's arms and felt the sudden embarrassing rush of hot tears to her eyes. "I love you, too, Brit. And I mean it about the accountant."

"Yeah, right."Brittanylet her go and laughed. "The day I marry an accountant is the day you marry Ethan
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Carrick."

Alexis winced. Damn, she really hated to let go of the Brittany-accountant fantasy.

From his vantage point at the blackjack table,Ringo watched Ethan Carrick emerge from the private elevator with his right-hand man at 10 p.m. just as he did every night. Carrick was a creature of habit, andRingo appreciated that.

Made his job easier, that Carrick took his so seriously.

Ringotook his job seriously, too, and could be considered a workaholic by some. But he didn't do anything stupid, and whatDonatelli wanted was stupid. Nodding to the dealer, he kept an eye on Carrick as he moved around the casino floor, chatting to an employee here and there.Ringo inhaled from his cigarette before resting it in the glass ashtray.

Another reason he loved Vegas. He could smoke wherever the tuck he wanted. None of that huddling around a garbage can with twelve other people outside a crowded restaurant freezing his balls off- Here he could blow his secondhand smoke in anybody's face he felt like, and he appreciated that.

You look like you're doing prettygood ," a perky voice said next to him.

Glancing to his left, he noticed that a skinny brunette had taken the vacant seat, previously occupied by an ancient oil refinery owner. This woman was easier on the eyes than old Arthur had been, he'd admit that, but he didn't like to chitchat when he was working.

"Not bad," he said in a cool tone.

"Enough to buy me a drink," she said with a giggle.

Ringostifled his irritation. He hated women who giggled. It was like air escaping from a tire, a signal that, once expelled, nothing but an empty shell would remain.

This girl definitely didn't look too heavy in the IQ department, even if she had a pretty face, shiny black hair, and breasts that were too large to be natural on her thin frame. Yet he didn't think she was a hooker. There was too much genuine mischief in her eyes, a lusty sort of hunger hovering around her face.

Probably one of the girls who were dead broke, and enjoyed milking men out of meals and drinks, then leaving them panting and desperate.Ringo wasn't desperate for anything.Hadn't been since he'd left the Marines and half of his humanity behind.

With a flick of his wrist, he flipped a twenty-dollar chip toward her. "Go buy yourself a drink, gorgeous.

And leave me alone to concentrate before I lose this whole pile because I'm staring at you instead of the wheel."

She took the chip, wrapping her fist around it and caressing it with her thumb. "Thanks. I'll be back with your change, cutie."

Yeah, right.Giggles was going to pocket that change, no doubt in his mind. But he didn't care, because
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she was blocking his view of Carrick. As he picked up his cigarette and took a hit, she blew him a kiss with moist, cherry red lips, and sashayed off.

Damn. He couldn't see Carrick anymore. He'd left the floor.

Not that it mattered, really. Carrick did the same thing every night, and he never left his casino.Ever. He was a rich, young, reclusive nut-job. And contrary toDonatelli's crazy decapitation request,Ringo was going to plug the casino owner with a bullet, right to the heart. Dead was dead, and a bullet was cleaner than that messDonatelli wanted.

The Italian was an eccentric client—he supposed they all were—and demanding, butRingo knew his job, and he'd do it the right way.The low-risk way.

"I'm back. Did you miss me?" Giggles reappeared a minute later, a martini in one hand and a five-dollar bill in the other, which she set in front of him.

"Not at all," he told her truthfully, taking a hit from the dealer on his hand.

She giggled. "I'm Kelsey. I work here." If she started singing for him, he was going to shoot himself.

"Yeah?" He might as well have said, "I don't give a shit," but that didn't stop Kelsey.

"I'm a receptionist. Bet you thought I was a dancer or something, didn't you?" She winked at him. "I know how men are. But seriously, I'm a receptionist.For Mr. Carrick, the casino owner. I answer the phones," she added helpfully, like he lived under a rock and might not know what a receptionist was.

Stabbing his butt out in the ashtray, he turned a little and gave her half of his attention instead of a tenth.

"You like your job, Kelsey? Mr. Carrick a good boss?"

He had no intention of involving Kelsey in his plans, but maybe she could tell him the layout of the private floors, and where Car-rickwent for dinner every night, since he didn't seem to eat in any of the hotel restaurants.

And if she was his receptionist/lover, why was she trolling his casino for sugar daddies? Carrick was a big-ass sugar daddy in his own right with his two-thousand-room hotel and ten-million-a-day casino.

"Oh, he's the best boss. I'll never leave him," she said solemnly.

Ringocould practically hear the rocks in her head rattling. "You're doing it again," he reprimanded, going over twenty-one on his hand."Distracting me from my game."

"Sorry." She laughed, her lips around a swizzle stick, licking martini juice from the tip. "I'll be a good girl and behave." With a twist of her wrist, she made as if she were zipping her lips shut.

It was too easy.Carrick's receptionist landing in his lap. Maybe she had been sent to distract him.

That seemed far-fetched. Carrick didn't know who the hell he was.

But it made sense to keep an eye on Kelsey. "Never behave, gorgeous, that would be a waste on you.

Let me close out here and we'll go grab a table and get to know each other a little better."

Zipped lips were forgotten. "Cool!" She leaned over and kissed him quickly. "I like the way you smell,"

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she murmured against his mouth.

Then she giggled again.

Alexis stared at the itinerary in front of her and decided Carrick was weirder than she'd given him credit for.

7 p.m. Assemble in Sinatra room for reception line.

8 p.m. Fundraising dinner, open only to conservatives sup-porting President Carrick's reelection.

11 p.m. Benefit concert with special guests, The Suckers, to support campaign financing.

There was then a long list of what she could and could not do, including an insistence that she wear pantyhose—like her underwear was anyone'sflippin ' business but hers—and the pearls provided for her in the room safe, key on the dresser.

If this were a bid for the U.S. Senate, or a gubernatorial race, she could hang with it. It would make sense.

But none of this was real. They were pretending to elect a president of a Vampire Nation that was a flipping figment of their seriously corroded imaginations. She was so gladBrittany was safe at home, far away from this bunch.

Brittanyhoped she didn't bump into Alex. Her sister would kill her if she found out she had come back to The Ava. But she couldn't stop herself. She had to understand what was going on. She had to help them, even if she put herself at risk.

Which didn't really explain why she was back in the hallway by the bathroom, where she had seen that man and woman the night before. Biting her lip, she looked around the empty space.

Had she really thought he'd just be standing here? And why was she so anxious to see him?

Okay, that was obvious. She thought he was hot.Sexy.A hard body.

But he was also a vampire, and she had to remember that first and foremost.

Which was why she screamed—just a little—when two seconds later he came around the corner.

He started,then stopped in front of her.Studied her. "You areze woman from last night.Carrick's
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woman."

French accent wasn't helping her stay focused.Brittany clenched her legs together and nodded. "Yes.

But I'm notCarricks woman… my sister is."Sort of. But she didn't want tall, dark, and Francophile to get the wrong idea about her.

"Whoez your sister?"

"AlexisBaldizzi ."Brittany swallowed. Maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea after all. They were kind of alone here. "She's a lawyer.A
prosecutor
."

"You areBrittany then?"

All she could manage was a nod.

"I was born inBrittany , inFrance , you know." With that, he turned as if to leave.

"Wait! Who are you? Why aren't you at Ethan's parties? And why did you draw that woman's blood like that?"

One second he was three feet away, the next he was flush against her, his finger over her mouth. Her breath left her nostrils in startled gasps, blowing down on his flesh. His finger jiggled on her warm lips, tickling her.

"Hush,Brittany . Use some sense about where we are."

Then she was flying backward, wind rushing past her ears, eyes stinging,legs completely off the ground.

Alexis opened the door to Ethan's polite request and glared at him. "I'm not wearing these pearls."

"Why not?"He entered the room with confident strides and glanced at her chest, she hoped just to study the offending necklace.

"I look like Barbara Bush. And no offense toBabs or anything, she seems like a lovely woman, but she has about forty years on me."

The dress she was wearing was blue, and normally she thought it was flattering to her blond hair, but tonight she felt dowdy.Short-legged.

"The pearls probably would look better with a black dress."

And he was the fashion police? Hell if she was changing now. "Tough. This is the only evening dress I brought. I didn't know you all were so serious about this crap. This isn't
Buffy the Vampire
Slayer, it's more like
The West Wing
.Only withweirdos instead of actors."

"I just meant perhaps we should change your necklace." He went over to the safe in the closet, looking damn dapper in his tux.

Alexis grimaced at herself in the full-length mirror and sucked in her gut.Could you say
pear}
Ugh.Or
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blueberry, given the color of her dress. And why couldn't her hair just once cooperate and lay down straight without frizzing? And why in the hell did she care?

She was driving herself nuts.

Ethan's fingers on the back of her neck didn't help either. Sometimes he moved too fast for her taste.

She couldn't gauge his next movement. Now he was all fingers here, and touching there on the back of her neck, whisking off the pearls and draping her in diamonds.

Hel-lo.Somehow it seemed like she should reject the necklace, given that it made her feel a little bit like a paid companion. But at the same time, she liked it. She liked the way his eyes changed to match the depth of the blue in her dress as he leaned over her shoulder, brushed her hair aside,watched her in the mirror for her reaction.