Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) (5 page)

But it did.

Oh, Lord, how that man could kiss.

…

Five minutes later, Luke leaned back in his seat, watching the night whip past him as Glory kept her foot glued to the accelerator, sending the Vanquish zooming down the highway. Kissing Glory was a bad idea, no matter how good it made him feel. He shouldn’t be thinking about the feel of her mouth against his, the taste of beer on her lips, and the soft way she’d pressed her body against his. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kissing her all over again. Reaching across the small space and tracing her cheek with his fingers, pulling her against him. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

The car had been stopped. He hadn’t recognized the neighborhood, but his phone was still in his pocket. He
should
have told Glory to get out,
should
have given her enough money for the plane ride home, and
should
have put her in a cab before driving the Aston Martin back to his place. He
should
have called a cab and gone to the nearest police station so he could make a report of the kidnapping. He
should
have locked himself behind a fortress of steel and a wall of gun-toting muscle while the professionals investigated.

His entire life he’d made the smart move, always playing things safe.

But he was still in the car. Barreling away from Las Vegas in his now beat-up Vanquish with a twinge in his neck and a wild woman next to him in the front seat.

Probably still being chased by Tiffanette and her hired muscle.

He frowned, his thoughts moving back to the holdup. Why had Tiffanette brought muscle? Luke hadn’t brought any kind of security to the game last night, such as the armed driver who usually escorted him around, or the guards with guns who watched his back when he walked the casino floors.

But he never took security with him to the private poker games. Those were his nights to be Just Luke. Not Luke Morrison.

Something was off here. This was the first time Tiffanette had shown up to the game, but she’d come prepared. Not with a rough sketch of an idea, but with a carefully crafted plan. And that plan had ultimately been to kidnap him.

But how had she known he’d be without a guard? Who would have given her the information? The game was quiet, but it wasn’t exactly a secret. New people showed up all the time. But the only people who knew he’d be there without a guard were regulars like Bone, Chester, and Grant.

And a few of his employees. Erick Roberts, his head of construction. David Tanner, his head of security. His chauffeur.

The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. One of them had to have helped Tiffanette. No way had she planned this job alone. The woman was intelligent and driven, but only people with deep, dark connections partnered up with men who wore Kevlar, drove black SUVs, and shot guns as big as his biceps.

As smart as the showgirl was, there was no way she was that connected. That heist hadn’t been about the money. He’d been the ultimate target. Anger ate at his gut.

He needed to figure out what was going on. Needed time to think. Time to figure out what was going on. Being safely outside of Las Vegas wouldn’t hurt. It might even have a few benefits.

He looked at Glory again.

Really
nice
benefits.

They passed a highway sign identifying upcoming Boulder City and Hoover Dam.

“I’ll pull over in Boulder City. Let you out,” Glory said.

“No need. I’ll stay with you. For a while.”

“Excuse me?”

“The thugs might show up again.” Luke’s voice was crisp, clear, like he was forecasting the weather. “Besides, someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”

When he looked at Glory, he was surprised to see hurt cross her face.

Luke blew out a breath. He was being a jerk. Time for the truth. “I think the robbery was a sham. Someone paid Tiffanette to kidnap me. She’s not working alone. Whoever it was knew my company would have paid a fortune to get me back—and that everything would have been kept quiet. As long as my company paid the ransom, cops wouldn’t have been involved.”

“Meaning?” Glory asked, her brow furrowed.

“After you left, Tiffanette shot Bone. I don’t think she meant to, but that changed things from bad to as-bad-as-it-can-get for her.”

“Is he going to live?”

“Yeah, but he’ll need an ambulance. A doctor. The police will be asking him a whole bunch of questions.” He frowned. “Which means Tiffanette’s got a different end game. Even if I’m not around, she’ll come after you—with her partner. They can’t have any loose ends running around, and you’re one hell of a loose end.”

“I wasn’t the only one there.”

“A gangster, a thug, and Chester. Tiffanette could have worked something out with them—using favors, money, or fear—as long as I showed up in a few days. You’re something else. You’re unpredictable.”

“Thanks,” Glory said, beaming.

She’d taken his comment as a compliment. Cute.

…

Bad guys were after Luke. They wanted to
kidnap
him.

Worse, now they were after Glory. But she figured that didn’t mean Luke had to hang out with her as she careered across the country, headed back to West Virginia. “You don’t need to stick with me. I can take care of myself.” She kept one hand firm on the steering wheel, raising the other to toy with the chain around her neck. The silver cross that was her good-luck charm. She was going to need all the luck she could get. Especially sitting next to some thumped-up city boy with only the best of intentions. “I don’t need some self-appointed protector, especially one who’s used to sleeping in a feather bed. I’m not going to be staying at any five-star hotels.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You’d be better off without me.”

“And if I want to go with you?”

Glory blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“The past few hours have been different, certainly, but they weren’t entirely unpleasant.” He gave her a sidelong grin. “I want to go with you. I need to be out of Las Vegas, sure. But I also want to make sure you’re safe. To make sure you get home in one piece.”

“How very knight-in-shining-armor of you.” Glory bit her lip, considering.

The man was a liability. Not to her health, though. She didn’t really believe Tiffanette would bother chasing them outside the city. No, the real danger was to her peace of mind.

She should have kicked him out back in Las Vegas, but that kiss…

Wow
. It had blown her mind, completely obliterating her common sense.

It hadn’t seemed to blow Luke’s mind, however. The man was calm, collected. In the brief time they’d known each other, he’d proven to be clever, capable, and—she hated to admit—useful. Traveling together was a bad idea, but she couldn’t think of a better one.

Still, he deserved one last chance to bow out gracefully. “Home for me is in Beaux, West Virginia. It’s a bit of a ride. Besides, the way things are going, you could be slaughtered by angry bikers. Stung by bees. Torn to shreds by half a million tiny elves.”

Luke shook his head, dismissing her doubts. “I want to help you—to see this through. And I need to go off-grid to figure out who is helping Tiffanette.”

“Any ideas?”

“I can’t imagine. My friends, my acquaintances—I don’t see any of them doing this.”

Right. She rolled her eyes. “Because you know them all so well.”

“Because they have their own money. They don’t need to hold up a poker game, and they don’t need to kidnap me.”

“Maybe it’s not about money. Is there anyone you’ve been arguing with recently?”

“Erick. He works for me. He’s not happy about the accelerated time frame on my latest project, but I don’t see him doing something like this. Erick’s been with me forever. He’s a good man. Even if he does get a little self-righteous about certain things. Always thinking he knows best.”

“Maybe he just wants to be sure you’re giving everything due consideration.”

“He’s a pain in the ass, but he wouldn’t kidnap me.” Luke shook his head. “I’m not going to figure this out tonight. I need time to think, and I can do that while I make sure you get home all in one piece. If Tiffanette catches up, then I can keep you safe.”

She snorted.

“Besides,” he said, “this is the most fun I’ve had since college.”

“Fun?”
Oh, no
. She bit her lip to keep from giving Luke a piece of her mind. It didn’t work. “Fishing off Dandelion House’s dock with Ashley is fun. Watching the Potter kids learn to skateboard in front of my diner is fun. Borrowing books from the traveling library is fun.” Her voice was tight with emotion. “Getting shot at
wasn’t
fun.”

It was too late, though. She’d already made up her mind. He could come with her. But first she needed to set a few boundaries. That kiss had stirred way too much up inside her, like a teenager who’d fallen head over heels in first lust.

“We need some ground rules. No kissing,” she insisted.

“It was a damn good kiss.”

Too
good. That was the problem. His kiss had made her lose all semblance of rational thought, and she needed to stay sharp. She didn’t need to ride the roller coaster of her hormonal reaction—not over some guy who’d take off as soon as they hit Beaux’s town limits. Glory sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to concentrate on the road ahead. “Do we have a bargain?”

“Really?”

“No kissing.”

“No kissing,” he finally allowed. “Until you ask for it.”

Glory’s head pounded. At least he’d agreed. That would have to be good enough. Even if the rough velvet of his voice sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. “All right,” she said. “I’ll get off at the next exit so we can switch seats. It’s your turn to drive.”

And her turn to fight the desire to run her fingers through his hair and feel his lips on hers and—

Oh, God
. This really had to stop.

Chapter Five

Luke woke up stiff, sore. His eyes flickered open, revealing blue skies and crooked conifers. The woman in his arms let out a soft moan, wriggling backward, farther into the crook of his arm. The same position she’d been in since they’d pulled over at around three-thirty in the morning. After three and a half hours of driving, both he and Glory had reached the point where they’d need toothpicks to keep their eyelids open.

Staying in one of the quaint motels that dotted the interstate wasn’t an option—the guys in the SUVs would be prowling all motel parking lots for the Vanquish. So he’d pulled off for some shut-eye at the exit just before the exit to State Route 64. Glory had tried to complain, but all that yawning had gotten in the way. He’d parked the Vanquish behind a grove of trees, out of sight of the highway. And out of sight of Tiffanette’s men.

He raised his head to peer out the car window. Yep, they were out of sight.

Then he looked back down at Glory. Her body was curved around the center console, her legs tangled with his. They were both wearing clothes, but if she got any closer, that wouldn’t matter. Every time she took a breath, her body expanded against his and his mind spun.

Gloria Allen. Rough, tough, and wild. A woman who was capable of lying to a room full of strangers, cheating at poker in a game where the consequences were worth more than the rewards, and facing down gunslingers without even batting an eye.

Speaking of gunslingers… He should probably check his cell phone. Maybe Tiffanette, or whoever had set this up, had tried contacting him. He eased the phone out of his pocket, careful not to wake Glory. At some point the night before his battery had died. His nostrils flared. People could have been calling him, trying to figure out what was going on or—more importantly—trying to update him about the progress on Cleopatra’s Asp. The opening was just around the corner. Someone needed to keep an eye on things. With careful movements, he plugged it into the charger and then went back to focusing on Glory.

Gloria Allen, who blushed when she lied to her older sister. He couldn’t say for sure whether that was a good thing, but it was certainly something to think about. Lying to strangers was one thing, but she couldn’t even tell one little fib to someone she cared about.

More than those things, she was also a bright smile and a smooth laugh. When the song “Hot Blooded” had come on the radio the night before, she’d sung along, word perfect, in a voice that was surprisingly angelic. Whoever was staffing the radio station must have been on a seventies guitar-rock kick, because after that there was nothing but seventies music, and they’d sung along to almost every song until the signal sputtered and died.

He tried to raise his head and bit back a groan. His muscles were twisted and his bones ached. His neck felt as if it were stuck in a vise.

Clearly, sleeping in an Aston Martin was an acquired skill. Something that needed to be worked up to gradually. Starting with an RV, then a van, a sedan, and finally a cramped sports car. He was six foot four in his bare feet. Maybe sleeping in the car was okay for a woman with more curves than sense like the one beside him, but he was a tall man. He needed space. He needed to stretch. He needed—

Glory twisted in his arms again, and he forgot what he was thinking about. He forgot everything except the way her soft breasts moved against him. All he could think about was what it would feel like to have her naked underneath him.

“Glory,” he murmured quietly. Nothing happened. Her eyes didn’t open, her body didn’t tense.

The smart thing to do would be to pull away slowly, get out of the car, and then wake her up while he was standing outside. After that, he could set about figuring out who’d set him up. He held still, unable to move. Not while she was sleeping so soundly. Wrapped around him like a soft, adorable puppy.

His last girlfriend had been a tall blonde with slim hips and expensive taste in clothes. Made from the same mold as the girls he’d been dating since high school. Her name was Cynthia, and her family was old money from New York City. Luke’s mother had thought Cynthia was perfect. Cherry—his mother—had been right. Perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect makeup. Unfortunately, Cynthia hadn’t been perfect for him.

As far as he could tell, Glory didn’t wear makeup. Not even lipstick. The raspberry gloss of her lips was all natural. He’d promised not to kiss her again the night before, but that didn’t quell the sudden impulse he had to taste her lips for the second time. Just to make sure. It would be a scientific inquiry. For the good of humanity.

She hadn’t been wearing any makeup the night before either, staring across at him over the cards that had started this whole thing. All Glory, brazen and honest, playing cards with the big boys. His former girlfriends had thought playing poker was crass. They were elegant, composed, and, in the right circumstances, cruel.

None of those women would ever have rescued him from Tiffanette.

Luke’s heart was beating faster. If he kissed her now, she’d never know.

But he’d know.

His hand moved up to trace the edge of her smile. He wouldn’t break his promise. He wouldn’t kiss her, not until she asked. His thumb flicked across her bowed lips, feeling the warmth of her breath and her silky lips.

His phone rang. The battery must have charged.

Luke’s adrenaline kicked up a bit. The tone was plain, dull, unlike any of the tinny songs that he’d heard coming from Glory’s phone the night before. The same dull ring that he used for everyone. But it was loud enough to disturb Glory.

In his arms, her body stiffened. Her arm moved back suddenly, whacking him in the side. She turned slightly, and her shoulder ran into his jaw. His teeth banged together painfully. His eyes watered. The cell phone still rang. Finally it clicked off.

He should have answered the phone. It could be important information about the kidnapping, but damn, what man wouldn’t ignore an important call when a gorgeous woman was waking up in his arms?

“Luke?” Glory’s voice was husky, thick with sleep.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You been kissing me in my sleep?”

“Not kissing.” Her body snuggled back, even tighter against his. The pain in his side was suddenly forgotten. Glory was awake in his arms, and she wasn’t yelling at him to get away. Instead, she was getting closer. “I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“How close are we to Flagstaff?” she asked.

Funny, but did she look a bit disappointed? Excitement made Luke’s breath come faster. Had she wanted him to kiss her?

He forced himself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t the time or the place. “Look. We’re right next to the state route to the Grand Canyon. Maybe we should make a detour. Throw them off the track. I’m figuring they’re still after us.”

“I—” She shook her head, curls flying. “I need to get home quickly.”

He shifted slightly, frowning when the movement brought them even closer together. “I’m still worried they might try cruising the highways, looking for the Vanquish. We’re pretty obvious in the light of day. Besides, I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon. It’s supposed to be gorgeous. Proof of what Mother Nature can do. Wild and unpredictable. A little bit like you. Want to go?”

“More than anything.” Her gaze flickered.

For a moment he could make out every dark lash as it fluttered against her milky skin. Was she messing with him?

“Well,” she corrected, a flirtatious hint in her voice. “More than
almost
anything.”

That sexy little trill in the back of her throat had his cock surging painfully, caught between their bodies in the cramped front seat. After the night before, the poker game, the car chase, and the shootout, he’d thought that there was nothing that she could do to surprise him. He’d been wrong.

Why the hell didn’t he drive a bigger car? A luxury sedan or an SUV? Something with a big backseat, where he could stretch out and enjoy her body the way that it deserved.

She shifted, coming closer, and he moved his free hand down her body. He kept his gaze fixed to hers. That was an invitation there, not a rejection. She breathed out a welcoming sigh, and he slipped his hand underneath her shirt, skimming her flat belly, ending just short of the generous curve of her breast.

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” She stopped herself by gasping.

“I promised not to kiss you,” he murmured. “I never promised not to touch.” He trailed his hand up her body again to cup her breast. Tiny gasps escaped her lungs. Her hair was soft to the touch, cool against his skin. All those wild things that she’d done the night before had been unthinking, but there was something about the way her body moved, twisting slightly to protect itself, that told him this wasn’t how she usually behaved. The wanton woman in his arms was private. Special.

His phone rang again. He clenched his jaw, angry at the interruption. He didn’t want to answer, but he needed to get info on the kidnapping plan. “I have to get that.” He grabbed the phone from where it lay on the dashboard. He began to untangle himself from Glory’s body as he flipped it open.

Wow. Multiple missed calls. All from his mother.

Her number was blinking on the phone’s wide touch screen. Tension squeezed his temples. He hurriedly finished untangling himself from Glory and pressed accept.

“Luke!” The woman on the other end of the line cried out.

“Hello, Mother.” After his father’s death, he’d decided that the best way to deal with his mother was to get things over and done with. Quickly. Anything to keep her out of trouble. His mother was always overspending and under-thinking. She’d bounced back and forth between a dozen different relationships before settling for Chester.

“How are you this morning?” His voice was calm, modulated. Everything about him was controlled. That didn’t stop him from letting out a sigh when Glory’s curls slid forward, revealing the smooth skin of her neck. At the moment, he’d give anything to kiss her collarbone, to feel her pulse beating beneath pale skin. To know her deeply and intimately, not just a quick moment in the front seat of his car, but a long night together. He knew she liked classic rock music and beer from the bottle, but that wasn’t enough.

He wanted to lie in a soft bed beside Glory, listening to her while she talked about her day. Sex would be good too, but he wanted someone who would stay with him all night long. Snuggling close under crisp sheets.

His mother’s soft sobs brought him back to reality. Wild driving and crazy sing-alongs were fun for one night, but it was a fantasy. It couldn’t be maintained. Not for Luke, the most straitlaced man in Las Vegas.

The niggling headache he normally felt when speaking to his mother was growing by leaps and bounds. Had he made the right decision the night before, taking off with Glory?

“I’ve been calling you for hours. You didn’t answer! Chester said some showgirl kidnapped you at the poker game!” His mother’s voice cracked. “He said he got away while they were carting you off. He also told me not to call the police—it would only cause trouble. What do they want? I’ll empty my bank account—my jewelry’s worth more. Do the kidnappers take diamonds?”

“Chester’s right—don’t call the police. And don’t hock your jewelry, Mother. The kidnappers don’t want your diamonds.”

“Don’t be preposterous. Everybody wants diamonds!”

“Mother, I—” He opened the door to the car, getting out to stand in the early-morning light. They were still in the desert, the lack of cloud cover having made the air cool during the night, but it was a different kind of desert. Gnarled pine trees instead of prickly pear cacti.

On the phone, his mother was wailing. He could see her in his mind’s eye, hands fluttering at her sides like a pair of wounded birds.

Luke stood up and stretched. “Chester shouldn’t have worried you. I’m fine.”

A ragged sniff at the other end of the line. “But you were kidnapped! I can’t lose you. Not like your father—”

“Dad died in a home invasion. He made the wrong kind of friends, and he let too many people know how much cash he had on hand.” Luke slammed his mouth shut to keep from continuing. His father had made mistakes. He’d put himself—and his family—in danger.

Luke played things safe, keeping even his closest friends at arm’s length. He’d keep on staying safe by figuring out who’d set up the kidnapping. “I need to ask you something.” He hadn’t called his mother the night before because he didn’t want to worry her, but she might know something useful. As much as Cherry liked hobnobbing with Las Vegas’s elite, the former showgirl still kept in touch with her past. “The showgirl. Her name is Tiffanette. Have you heard of her?”

“Chester said he thought the showgirl’s name was Annette. I don’t know any showgirls named Annette. Are you sure her name is
Tiffanette
?”

“Absolutely. I’ve met her before.”

There was a long pause. Then, “Looks like a Barbie doll, acts like a snake in the grass?”

“You do know her.” For all her faults, his mother was an expert at reading people.

“Tiffanette Abrams. Good body, great timing. Tramp. I heard she made a play for the mayor. In front of his wife. I mean—” A shocked sigh. “Really, going after another woman’s husband like that. It’s unimaginable! I can’t—”

“Wasn’t Dad married when you two met?”

“Engaged. Your father was
engaged
when we met. To Ruby Tyler, if you can believe that one. She really ought to have thanked me. Saving her from walking down the aisle in that wedding dress—too much tulle.” There was a long sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s good she’s the one who tried to kidnap you.”

“Excuse me?” Luke blinked in surprise.

A few minutes earlier his mother had been sobbing uncontrollably. Now her tone was full of vim, vigor, and venom. She recovered quickly. “Back in the day—with your father—holdups and kidnappings were more common. You know that.”

Luke had heard the stories. Back when Las Vegas was still the Wild West—well, back in the eighties, which was the same thing in Vegas time—kidnapping had been just another part of doing business. Some of the old-timers still made threats occasionally. When that happened, Luke would increase security. He’d call in extra bodyguards.