Count on Love. Melinda Curtis

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СКАЧАТЬ everything I own in my car, left at five this morning and drove four hours to get here. And do you know why?”

      “No, and I don’t care. Go peddle your résumé somewhere else. I need breakfast.”

      “A hot dog and a soda? No wonder you look like a truck ran you over.”

      His hot dog was no longer hot. Wearily, Sam turned back to her. “You might get better results explaining all this to Carl or a reporter. Maybe Slotto is the type of company that would hire you just to escape bad press. Of course, you’d have to be willing to bare your soul and your past. But, hey, Vegas loves gamblers, right?” He found himself caught in her vivid blue gaze. There was more than anger in her eyes. There was fear, as well.

      Sam may not have discovered all the skeletons in Annie Raye’s closet.

      CHAPTER TWO

      WHY COULDN’T SAM KNIGHT have been an old, cigarette-smoking P.I. Annie could easily charm? Instead, he was intimidatingly tall, with long limbs that outpaced and outreached a height-challenged woman like herself. His haunted green eyes hid a stubborn streak Annie hadn’t been able to break. And she didn’t want to acknowledge the solid curve of his biceps beneath the short sleeves of his shirt or the way her heart ka-thumped when his studied gaze roved beyond her face.

      With one eye on Sam’s big black truck in front of her, Annie dug her phone out of her purse and called her dad. “May I speak to Maddy?”

      “We’re doing fine, honey. How are things with you on the job?”

      “Fine,” she lied. It wouldn’t be a lie when she convinced Sam to change his mind. “Is that…are you in a car?” Annie had to accelerate to keep up with Sam through a yellow light. “I forbid you to take Maddy to a card game.” Her father knew nothing about parental limits.

      “We’re just going for ice cream. No cards for this little girl. I promise. Ain’t that right, puddin’?”

      Annie’s heart lurched. He used to call her that. Back then she’d adored her dad and couldn’t wait to do whatever he asked. “Let me talk to Maddy.”

      “I can’t turn this girl into a cardsharp in one afternoon, Annie,” he said, as if reading her mind. “And I’m not going to try. Here, talk to her.”

      “Mommy, we’re going for ice cream.” Maddy’s excitement bubbled through the cell phone.

      “Is everything okay, sweetie?”

      “Yes, Mommy. We’re having fun. Grandpa borrowed a car seat from the lady who lives under him.”

      Her dad said something Annie didn’t catch.

      “Grandpa says I can hold the cell phone and call you anytime, okay?”

      He knew just how to reassure Annie that everything was all right. How she wished she could believe him. “That’s great, sweetie. Tell Grandpa I’ll be another hour, maybe two.”

      “Bye, Mommy!” And Maddy hung up just like an independent teenager. Annie wanted to call her back just so she could hear her five-year-old’s voice.

      

      “DO I HAVE TO CALL the cops?” Sam demanded when he’d started up the stairs to his garage apartment and realized he had company.

      Annie Raye walked up to him with her suit jacket buttoned up to her neck as if she was ready for a business meeting. “All I want is a chance to prove to you that I’m dependable.”

      Sam’s cell phone rang. He checked the display but didn’t recognize the local number, and picked up.

      “Sam? It’s Tiny Marquez. Aldo Patrizio said I should call. One of those card players just walked in. I’d throw him out but I need proof before I lay a finger on him.” Casinos had been sued for heavy-handed treatment of suspected counters. That’s why independent houses relied on third parties to I.D. and detain sharps.

      So much for the small hope that he could wheedle his way out of Mr. Patrizio’s job. If Sam didn’t deliver those card counters’ identities his own name would soon be worth nothing in Vegas.

      “I’m there.” Sam disconnected the call and then dialed Rick Sabatinni. When the retired gambler answered, Sam turned away from Annie, lowered his voice and quickly explained the situation.

      “A group of card counters?” Sabatinni asked, an odd note in his voice.

      “Yeah, why?”

      “I’ll call you back.”

      Swearing, Sam flipped his phone closed and clipped it to his belt. Something wasn’t right.

      Tiny Marquez ran a small casino at the outskirts of the Strip. Vince had told Sam that his grandfather sometimes helped out the mom-and-pop casinos in the area. Sam had no idea why. What with running the Sicilian and taking care of his wife, Mr. Patrizio seemed to have his hands full.

      “Where are you going?” Annie sidled between Sam and his truck. “We haven’t settled this.”

      Sam refused to look at her, especially her legs. He didn’t like the way Mr. Patrizio had boxed him in, or the way Annie was trying to do the same. “I’ve got business,” Sam snapped. He closed the distance between them by one step.

      She didn’t budge. “What about my job?”

      “You’re trying my patience,” he warned, taking another step. Another two and he’d be able to touch her.

      “Look, I’m nonthreatening. I’ll work for a trial period.” Annie smiled and tilted her head, trying to capture his gaze. With a face like that she could easily con people into believing she was the upstanding citizen she would’ve appeared to be, if it weren’t for the arrest record. “Carl Nunes said all it would take for him to hire me is your approval. I’ll disappear if you give it to me.”

      “Not happening.” Sam tried Sabatinni’s number again. Still no answer. This time he left a message. “Knight, here. Meet me ASAP at Tiny House of Cards.”

      As he took another step forward, Annie ran to her wreck of a car, leaving a hint of strawberries in the air. His blood pressure soared. It had been too long since he’d been around a woman like her…the woman she appeared to be.

      “What?” she asked, holding the car door open when she noticed Sam staring. “I’m leaving just like you asked.” She smiled as if they were best buds.

      He wasn’t falling for that act.

      “Are you working on a case?” she asked too casually.

      Sam grunted.

      “Can you tell me about it?”

      “No.” Then he was in his truck and gunning it down the street, all thoughts of strawberry scent and blond hair left far behind.

      Until he hopped out of his truck at Tiny House of Cards.

      “I’m intrigued by what you do,” a familiar voice said behind him.

      Annie СКАЧАТЬ