Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I see.” Probably up in his penthouse, then. “Thank you.” For nothing.
If I were a secret owner’s elevator, where would I be?
I roll my eyes again. Doesn’t matter. Even if I could find the elevator, I don’t have a key or a code or the ability to crack whatever else kind of security thing he’s installed.
I do have a nose, though.
Only problem? It’s seriously like trying to smell a needle in a haystack. This hotel is packed with beating hearts and interesting scents.
I make my way through the casino. Mornings are a slower time, but it’s still densely crowded. This is when the old ladies sit at the nickel slots, feeding in coin after coin. Except it’s all digital now, so all they need to do is press a button. Do they realize they go quicker and lose more money that way?
I walk past the craps tables and then blackjack and pai gow poker. Off to my left is the high stakes area. It’s roped off to keep out the riffraff.
I don’t have ten grand to drop, so no way will they let me in to look for Victor.
Here’s the issue, though. I smell him. As soon as I got to the entrance of the high stakes area, the mélange of smells parted like the red sea. God, his fragrance is powerful and all-consuming. Already my gums are itching, my pulse throbbing.
Victor is somewhere in the high stakes area. Now would be a really good time to develop the vamp vision I lack.
How do I get in?
There is one way…
Fuck it. I’m going for it.
I approach the pretty young woman manning the area.
“May I help you?” she asks.
“Yes. I’d like to enter.”
“I’ll need a credit card with at least a fifty thousand dollar credit limit on file.”
I focus my energy and will toward her. “I don’t have one, but you’re going to let me in anyway.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“I don’t have one, but you’re going to let me in anyway.”
The woman cocks her head as the tension fades out of her facial muscles. “Of course. Go right in, Ms….”
“Bates.”
“Ms. Bates. Of course.” She unhooks the rope and lets me pass. “Enjoy yourself.”
I nod and walk past her and into the area. It’s bigger than it appears from the casino, as it curves to the right and opens into a much larger perimeter. High stakes slots line the walls, and tables grace the rest of the place. Only one or two players sit at each table.
I inhale.
Just his scent puts my body on alert, my gums tingling with the need for my teeth to descend. I literally follow my nose until I reach a door marked private.
He’s behind that door.
And he’s not alone.
I know this only because I hear two voices. Whoever is with him doesn’t have a scent, at least not one I’m capable of discerning.
Which is also odd. Perhaps Rogan’s scent just cancels everything else out for me.
I draw in a deep breath, gather my courage, grip the doorknob, and turn it. Then I slide the door open.
Rogan stands behind a desk, and the man he’s talking to—
Fuck. It can’t be.
It’s the thug from last night. The one whose fear I sensed. My vamp vision might not be great but I’ll never forget any of the three thugs who tried to beat me to a pulp in a dark alley.
Rogan meets my gaze, his green eyes fiery with anger. “Get out of here,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Can you read, sweetheart?” the thug says. “You know what private means, right?”
“Shut the fuck up.” I advance toward them, eyeing Rogan. Rage courses through me, but still I respond to his nearness. My nipples harden and I suppress a shudder. “You want to tell me why you’re conferring with one of the assholes who tried to kill me last night?”
“I think you’re mistaken,” the thug says.
“Don’t patronize me.” I whip my hands to my hips. “I’m no damsel in distress. I know exactly who you are. I could pick you out of a lineup.”
He opens his mouth to utter what I’m sure is a nonsensical retort, but Rogan quiets him.
“Let her say her piece,” he says. “Then, princess, you may leave.”
The thug rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“What’s going on here?” I demand. “You come riding in on a white horse to rescue me in an alley last night, and today I find you cavorting with the enemy?”
Damn. My father’s right. Rogan is the enemy.
“Blaze is not the enemy,” he says.
“Blaze? What the hell kind of name is that? Did you step out of a romance novel?” I can’t help chuckling at my own joke.
“For fuck’s sake.” Blaze turns toward me.
“Easy,” Rogan says. “She’s not worth the effort.”
“Not worth the effort?”
Seems I was wholly worth the effort last night.