don’t think you should do that,” she said quickly, pleased to see she’d won another round. “I was just curious.”
“I’m much more interesting than my friends.”
The look he gave her this time sent a shiver right down to her toes. The cocktail waitress set another cosmopolitan by her elbow, and Gwen fell on it as though it were salvation.
CHIPS SAT STACKED IN COLORED towers in front of her. She had no idea what the hour was—in a Vegas casino there were no clocks, no windows. High noon looked like midnight when you were at the tables. Time was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the flip of the cards, the spin of the wheel, the roll of the dice.
She felt no fatigue—far from it. She was wired, playing on house money. Her luck had been solid so far, but it was beginning to flag. Gwen drew a queen to a hand that was already twelve and busted.
Rennie looked at her. “We got a bad trend going here,” he observed, gesturing at his own busted hand. “I’m thinking it’s time to knock off while I’m ahead.” He pushed his chips to the dealer, asking for a consolidation.
Panic seized Gwen. He couldn’t leave—how would she find him again? She knew almost nothing about him, aside from the fact that he had a sexy smile and a weakness for banter.
And maybe a weakness for her.
Nina, of course, wouldn’t be shy about putting her looks to work for her. No way would she just let the guy walk away. If Nina were trying to follow the trail of millions of dollars, she’d do whatever was necessary to persuade him to stick around. Gwen sent him a look from under her lashes as she collected her consolidated chips from the dealer. “So, how about a drink?”
4
WAS IT HER IMAGINATION OR was there more devilry in his smile? “Sure.” He slid his handful of hundred-dollar chips into the pocket of his jeans.
Cosmopolitans, Gwen discovered as she rose from the table, had more of a kick than white wine. Her heel caught in the carpet as she slid off the stool.
“Whoa.” Rennie caught her as she stumbled. “Here, why don’t you grab my arm?”
“That’s very gallant of you.” His bicep was a solid swell under her fingers. The contact shivered through her. He wasn’t built lightly at all, she realized as he tucked her hand against his body. The guy had some very real muscle. Her imagination instantly conjured up images of washboard abs and cannonball shoulders.
“Just call me Sir Galahad,” he said. “So, where do you want to go?”
“Let’s find a nightcap.”
“You sure? We’ve been drinking for the last two hours. Have you had dinner?”
Gwen thought back but couldn’t remember. “Something on the plane, maybe.” He was an inch or two taller than she was, even in her spike heels, she realized. There was something alarmingly cozy about him standing there holding her hand against him protectively.
He looked down at her a moment and considered. “How about if we go to the Reef Bar. Maybe we can get some food there. Trust me, you’ll be happier tomorrow.”
The bar was dark and yet lit with an aqua luminescence from the aquarium that took up one wall. Tropical fish made bright flashes of color amid rocks and waving green fronds. Music played in the background, but there was no crowd and no dance floor.
Quiet and dark was perfect for her purposes, Gwen thought as they took seats off in a corner. Or maybe not. The tabletop was about the size of a dinner plate, she realized. By the time she’d scooted onto her high stool, she found herself much, much closer to him than she’d anticipated. Close enough to find herself staring at that enticing mouth. Close enough to find herself noticing the way the aqua light reflected off his cheekbones. He really was gorgeous, she realized, not to mention sexy as hell.
Okay, reality check. Getting distracted was not good. She was here only to try to track down Jerry. Recreation with Rennie—one of the bad guys—was out of the question.
On the other hand, she’d do what was necessary to accomplish her purpose.
A waitress appeared, dressed in the bikini top and sarong uniform of the bar. “What’ll it be, folks?”
Rennie studied the drinks card that sat on the table. “An Anchor Steam for me,” he said. “And an order of potato skins.”
“Sorry, guys, kitchen’s closed. If you want food, you’ll have to go to the coffee shop.”
“Let’s stick here,” Gwen said quickly. No way did she want to go to a bright and noisy coffee shop. Anyway, Nina would probably sniff at coffee. She’d want a real drink. “How about a Courvoisier?” She wasn’t exactly sure what Courvoisier tasted like, but she liked the idea of swirling a brandy glass.
His eyes were very dark in the dim light as he studied her. “My name is Del, by the way.”
Gwen leaned closer to him. “What?”
“My name. It’s not Galahad, it’s Del.”
“Del?” All the fun evaporated in an instant. She stared at him. “Wait a minute. You’re joking, right? I thought your name was Rennie.”
He shook his head. “’Fraid not.”
Disaster, Gwen thought. It was a disaster. This was supposed to be Rennie, her conduit, the one who was going to lead her to Jerry. If he wasn’t, then she was back to square one, no better off than she’d been when she’d walked into the casino. Worse, because Rennie had been around there somewhere. Now where was she? No lead, no closer to finding the stamps. Instead she was stuck here with him while the true Rennie was still out in the casino somewhere. She struggled to master her disappointment.
And ignore the small, sneaky sense of relief that lurked underneath.
“So, where’d you get the idea I was—who was it—Ronnie?”
“Rennie. That’s what the dealer called you.”
He looked at her, mystified.
“Before I sat down,” Gwen clarified. “I thought the dealer said something like ‘You always win, Rennie.’”
She watched the answer dawn. “Ah. She was joking around with the other dealer.”
“Which other dealer?”
“The one who left when you came up.”
“Was that her name?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounded like a nickname.”
“What did she look like?” Gwen asked sharply, thinking back. But she’d fastened so quickly and completely on him that everyone else was a cipher. She cursed under her breath. “I can’t picture her at all.”
“Does it matter?”
He was looking at her attentively—way too attentively. Relax, she told herself. “No, it’s no
