Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Glory’s breath came fast. Her skin was on fire. And to think it was
Luke
making her feel this way—Luke, the straitlaced businessman who’d called her out for cheating at cards. Sitting in that hotel room, she’d been so damn sure about him. A sexy fuddy-duddy. Tall, dark, and dictatorial. A man who’d never do anything that might result in his hair getting mussed. At least, that’s what she’d thought.

She’d been wrong. His hair was mussed now, his shirt rumpled, and he’d never been sexier.

Even better, Luke wanted her. Bad. He held her with firm arms and hands. His breath sounded rough and ragged as he waited. Needing her to give the signal. One last push to bring them together.

She knew it couldn’t last. Luke would take off as soon as they figured out why Tiffanette was trying to kidnap him. Who the mastermind was. As soon as they got back to Beaux.

Still, it would be worth it. To feel him inside her just the once, something to hold on to after he was gone… Hell, who was she kidding? She’d decided to go for it the minute he told her he was going to kiss her.

She took a quick step back. The borrowed jacket went flying. She scrambled to unzip her shorts, then shoved them down over her thighs. One foot tangled in the tough denim, and for one long moment it felt as though she would slam down onto the earth. At the last possible instant, she twisted sideways, stumbling against Luke. Hard.

Off-kilter, Luke wobbled. Gravity took over. They went down. But not on the ground—no, they landed smack-dab in the middle of the river. Cool, refreshing water enveloping her from head to toe, soaking her bra and panties.

A sputter, a gasp, and Luke was treading water beside her. “You got my pants wet.”

“That’s what all the guys say.” Glory bit back a giggle. The heat of the day was gone, replaced by cool shade and water. Not the familiar stillness of Black Lake where she spent her summer afternoons floating in an inner tube or even some of the smaller mountain streams on her cousins’ property. This water was new, different, and—most importantly—it had Luke in it.

His shoulder bumped against hers. His hand reached out, wrapping around her wrist. Skin against skin. The cool water washing away their differences. In the river, Luke wasn’t an opera-loving tycoon. His fancy haircut was plastered against his skull, accenting his high cheekbones. Droplets glittered in his long dark lashes. Among the backdrop of red rocks and painted love, he looked wild and untamed. Invincible.

“Wait a minute.” Luke ducked his head beneath the surface. His entire body twisted. After a moment, he came back up, sucking in air. A second later his pants flew over Glory’s head.

He reached for her, taking her in his grasp, broad hands skillfully threading the line between pleasure and something else—something she’d never experienced before. Not pain—not exactly.

Sin. Pure, unadulterated,
forceful
sin.

The part of Glory that had always been a good girl—the preacher’s daughter—wanted to object. This was wrong. It had to be. Nothing that felt this good could be right. They should be getting dressed, packing everything back into the car, and racing toward Beaux. No distractions.

But the rest of her was too busy clamoring for a good time. Her entire life she’d always put other people first, always subjugated her desires for the good of the community. She was always available to babysit kids, wait for the cable guy, and make a strong pot of coffee to help everyone else sober up after they’d had too good a time at the Autumn Fest.

It was her turn to have fun.

And she couldn’t think of anything more fun than sex. Not just any sex either.
Double hot fudge sundae with dark chocolate shavings, salty caramel, whipped cream, and a cherry on top
sex. She wanted it so badly her belly ached, and she wanted it now.

One hand left his neck, forcing its way down between their bodies. Skimming his chest before dipping farther down to feel him pulse hard against her palm. The water’s chill might be enough to make goose bumps rocket across her body, but it hadn’t done anything to affect his size. The man was huge. She ran her fingers over his cock, once, twice, lightly before giving him a sharp tug. Grinning when she felt him pulse against her palm.

“Oh, Glory—” Luke’s mouth broke away from her breast. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Cheating.” Her fingers drifted upward just long enough to pull down his elastic waistband. She tensed her leg muscles—forcing herself forward and upward—giving herself space to work, shoving his boxers down to free his penis. “I want to feel you inside me. I want”—her other hand tangled in his hair, forcing his mouth against her wet skin—“I want you.”

“I got that, but you still better slow down.” A soft moan as her fingers went back to work along the long hard length of him, tugging and teasing. Water sputtered, splashing up in the narrow space between them. “You keep doing that and I’m going to finish early.” Nails dug into her side, diverting her attention. “I don’t know about you, but I like to finish simultaneously.”

His shoulders bunched, lifting her a few inches, repositioning her slightly. Why? What—

“Oh!” She stuttered as his hand slipped farther underneath her. Capable fingers grazed her inner thigh before moving her soaking panties to the side. Heat swelled inside of her. Her blood was boiling deep in her belly. A slight gasp escaped her mouth. The water covered up the scent of sex, but the river wasn’t the only thing making Glory wet. “Damn.”

“You don’t like that?” Every word that came out of Luke’s mouth was matched by a deep, rhythmic, stroke along the inside of her thigh. His thumb found her clitoris, moving first one way and then the other. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t, oh—” Glory leaned forward against him, resting her head on his shoulder as his free hand cupped her breasts. It was too much stimulation at one time. She was writhing, driven mad with pleasure. She’d had sex before—good sex—but never anything like this. “Never stop. I—” Her teeth dug into his shoulder, anything to keep from crying out. Screaming into the strange forest. The crash of water coming over the falls was loud, but not as loud as the blood rushing in her ears. Her heart pounded a staccato beat inside her chest.

His silk boxers were gone, floating away down the river. His calm facade was gone, too, replaced by something primal. Her hands left his body, fingers twisted in his thick black hair, drawing him in close until it seemed as if they were occupying the same space. As close as two people could get.

Not quite.

“Why aren’t you inside me already?”

Luke let out a sharp laugh, tight with lust and something like pain. “Hold that thought.” He took a deep breath, his body shaking as he extricated himself from her grasp. Water rushing in to fill the space between them. “I have to get something.”

“What?” Without Luke to support her, Glory splashed backward, grabbing for the riverbank. Her legs felt like jelly. Her insides felt like jelly. Her mind
was
jelly. One more stroke, one more thrust of his fingers, and she would have completely lost control, orgasming against his hand. Screaming her pleasure into the wind. Not caring who might hear them. “What the
hell
is so important?”

“Condoms. We need condoms.” Luke pulled himself up onto the bank. He raced toward the car, his bare ass glittering in the sunlight.

Alone in the cool river Glory could feel goose bumps popping up on her arms, but—damn—it was a beautiful sight. The man had a behind like two fresh-baked loaves of bread, just waiting for her to take a bite. When he opened the door and reached inside, it stretched out the long lines of his body, turning him into a work of art.

Michelangelo’s
David
, come to life among riotous graffiti and a lush green wilderness.

If Luke had been quick going to the car then he was even faster on the way back. He jumped into the river. His hand went up to his mouth, the sound of a foil package being ripped audible over the burbling brook. “You know the effect of water on latex?”

“Not unless we’re making water balloons.” Glory could count the number of times she’d seen a man naked on one hand. Sure, she’d been engaged, but most of the time they’d had sex under the covers with the lights off. She’d never thought seeing a man’s full frontal would be quite so erotic, but suddenly she couldn’t think of anything else.

He’d been so damn beautiful.

Bright eyes, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest. A downy layer of curly black hair smattered across his torso before growing thicker underneath his belly button. A trail leading all the way down to his cock, jutting out proudly between muscular thighs.

Even his knees—perfectly round, and one with a scar on the side…she’d never be able to look at a man’s knees again without thinking about Luke.

Naked in the sunlight.

His lips found hers. For a moment they were just kissing sweetly, soft, lingering smooches like young lovers after the first dance, and then he was dragging her panties down over her legs. His hands were on her breasts. His body forcing her up against the riverbank. Hard stones dug into her back. In a couple of hours she’d have a bruise or ten.

There was a moment’s fumbling and then Luke was pushing his way inside her. Muscles Glory hadn’t used in years tightened, drawing him in eagerly. Her body rocked against his. Her lips widened with a gasp. She could feel Luke smiling against her mouth. She clawed at his shoulders and biceps, accidentally tearing at the bandage she’d taped on less than fifteen minutes earlier.

“Next time, I’ll do a better job,” she gasped, pulling away. Had she hurt him? He’d been so strong earlier, so full of himself, but she’d seen him bite his lip when she applied the hydrogen peroxide.

“You’re saying there’s going to be a next time?” His hips bucked against hers, pushing him even deeper inside her, filling her all the way up. Friction took over. Friction and a rhythm as old as time, their bodies swaying together in time to a song she could only hear in her head. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Gasps and groans filled the air. It seemed to last forever, but it couldn’t have been very long. After all that buildup they were both primed, ready to go. After a few minutes Luke shuddered against her and they both came.

Simultaneously.

Glory slumped against Luke, enjoying the closeness. For the first time in a long time she wasn’t worrying about what anyone else thought or doing something for someone else. Sex with Luke wasn’t about doing what was right or pleasing the Beaux Baptist congregation—the congregation definitely wouldn’t approve—it was about her enjoyment. Her pleasure. Maybe it was a little selfish, but damn—

“That was amazing,” Luke said. Each word sparking a fire deep inside Glory’s heart. One hand came up to smooth her dripping curls away from her face. “That was—” A sharp intake of air. “You are incredible. I—”

The ringing of her phone interrupted Glory’s thoughts. Her cell must have been in her shorts when she’d shoved them to the ground. The noise it made was loud, discordant, and completely disconcerting. Her mind scrambled, trying to remember who the generic ringtone had been assigned to. Everyone she knew had gotten something silly, something meaningful. Everyone she knew—

The phone rang again. A stranger on the other end of the line, or—more likely—a friend in trouble who wasn’t calling from their usual phone. It could be one of her sisters at the police station.

Or the hospital.

Glory cleared her throat nervously. “I should get that.”

“Right.” Luke stepped away. “It could be someone important.”

Glory was already turning away, sloshing out of the water and scrambling up onto the bank. She found her borrowed jacket, then slipped her arms into the sleeves before grabbing her phone. The number on the screen was one she didn’t recognize. It started “702.”

It was a perfect afternoon in a lush location. A soft breeze played idly through the leaves. Luke was swimming buck-naked in the river, and if she didn’t have responsibilities, she could stay there until the stars came out overhead.

Brring
!

She flipped her phone open. “What’s wrong now?”

“Gloria Allen.”

The voice on the other end of the line was soft, sultry. A seductive whisper spoken by a woman Glory couldn’t quite recognize. A credit collector? Someone out to convince her to donate to a political cause she knew nothing about? Hallie’s new public defender? “Yes…,” she drawled out slowly.

“You’re not an easy girl to track down.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Tiffanette.” Glory’s hand went numb. The woman was pure evil. And she’d brought that evil into Glory’s personal garden of paradise. Glory whipped her head around, searching the river, the rock walls, the dusty trail for black SUVs and men in cargo pants. Nothing. Safe for now. “What the hell do you want?”

“You’ve got something that belongs to me.”

She took one deep breath, then another. She let some air out and started searching around for her discarded clothes. If she was about to fend off an invading army, then she wanted panties, at the very least.

She wanted to throw the phone to the ground, but that wouldn’t be wise. She had to find out what the woman was up to. “Come on,” she said, working to keep her voice from shaking, “it’s not like you wrote your name on him in permanent marker. I would have seen it.”

“You and Luke? You didn’t seem like the type.” Tiffanette let out a husky laugh. “Good for you. Word on the street is Luke’s got a really big—”

“Toy?” Glory stepped into her wet panties, tugging them up over her behind. Luke was getting out of the water, naked and glorious in the sunlight, but she had more important things to think about. Her head was pounding, painful. “Is that why you snatched him up? You need a date for Saturday night? Because I could set you up with my cousin Benji. He’s got a thing for crazy ladies.”

“Sweetheart, I could have any man in Las Vegas.”

“Good, go kidnap one of them. This one is mine.”

Glory knew the second Luke realized what was going on. His body went rigid, and not in the good way. He surged forward, grabbing for the phone. Too darn bad. Glory batted him away with one hand.

Luke glared down at her, his eyes narrow, his lips thin. Just because he could ring her bell like a French hunchback didn’t give him the right to look at her like that.

She hit the speakerphone button, then held the phone out far enough so Luke could hear what was being said.

“Did you call for a reason?” Glory demanded. “Or we just going to stand here and exchange dating tips all day long?”

“Not bad, Little Miss Homespun.”

There was that laugh again, strong and silky. It got under Glory’s skin, making her nerves stand on edge.

“Maybe you’re not as boring as you look,” Tiffanette continued. “Some other time we could have had some fun together, but—” Suddenly a hard edge joined Tiffanette’s dulcet tones. “I’m not having fun. You’ve got something I need.”

“Why are you so desperate for money? You saving up for your next boob job?” Glory tugged her shorts on and looked around for shoes.

“This is about so much more than money. I made an agreement and I need your boyfriend to keep up my end of the deal.”

This was it—the opportunity she needed to figure out what was going on. “An agreement?” Glory’s voice was eager. Too eager. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “Who with?”

“That’s not important.” A dramatic pause, as if Tiffanette were waiting for a drumroll. “I’m going to cut you in. You can have the cash from the card game. Every penny. I just want Luke.”

It was a lot of money. The exact amount—give or take—that she needed. That she’d been sent on her mission to collect.

She shifted uncomfortably in her bare feet, her body still warm from the afterglow. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on puppies, ice cream. Anything other than what the money would mean for her hometown.

It didn’t matter. Her eyes flickered open, taking in the sight. Adjacent to her. Luke worked to force his legs into damp designer pants. He tripped awkwardly over a tree trunk. Stumbled against her. Bit his lip probably to keep from shouting—to keep Tiffanette from hearing him.

There was no way she could give him up. Not now. Not ever. The sex had been great. The way he made her laugh when he messed up the lines to classic rock-and-roll songs was awesome. None of it mattered. He was a human being, not some kind of game piece to be traded.

“What do you want with him?”

Tiffanette’s laughter was sharp, like knives. “I spoke to your precious Luke a few months ago. I offered to sing at the opening of his new place. He didn’t take me seriously. Now, I’ve got a better offer. Fame. Fortune.” Tiffanette’s sexy veneer was gone, replaced by pure, raw ambition. “I’m going to be a headliner.”

All this trouble because Tiffanette couldn’t hack it in her chosen profession. Glory felt like screaming. Going to Las Vegas, she’d had a plan. It might not have been a good plan, but still—she sucked in a breath. Tiffanette was definitely the wrench in the works. The blonde was ruining everything. “You’re going to jail.”

“Don’t be so hasty. I need you to think very carefully. The man I’m working for, he can give you things. Fame—”

There it was. A clue. The mastermind was a man, not a woman. Well, maybe not such a helpful clue, given that it narrowed the field down to half the population on earth. She connected gazes with Luke. He motioned for her to stretch out the conversation. They needed more information. She had to keep Tiffanette talking. “Not interested.”

“All right, if you want to be pedestrian. What about money? You’ve got the winnings from the game. He’ll give you more.”

Money. More than what was currently stuffed in her bag. Big bucks and the ability to hold her head up high when she got back to town. Glory’s throat went dry. “How much?”

“One-point-five million dollars,” Tiffanette said easily.

Like the showgirl was giving the price for a dozen eggs or some milk. A buck fifty. Two-twenty five. Only she’d used the word
million
.

“You’ve got the money from the game,” Tiffanette continued. “Consider that a down payment. You’ll get the other half when we have Luke.”

Luke’s head was bobbing up and down enthusiastically as he shoved his arms into his button-down shirt. Glory frowned. She wanted to hang up the call. Slam the phone down on Tiffanette and her offers. But that wouldn’t get them anywhere. She tilted her head to the side, mouthed the word “yes” to Luke. Waited for his vigorous nod of encouragement.

How the hell was she supposed to answer? She could lie to a room full of strangers, gloss over important details, but this was different. This was important.

Luke mouthed the word “Bluff.”

Bluff. Like in a poker game. That she could do. “He’s mighty fine, but not as fine as, say…two million.” She held her breath, hoping she’d come off as some money-grubbing, two-bit gambler upping the ante.

Silence met her challenge. And a little more silence. Had Tiffanette hung up? Or had she just hit the mute button so she could consult with her partner? Panic had set in when the other woman’s voice came back on the line.

“We can agree to two million. But if you’re going to up the payout, then you’ll need to take on a little more responsibility. Think you can bring Luke to us without him knowing what you’re up to?”

“For that amount of money, I’d sell you my sister. Or at least rent her out for the afternoon.” Glory let out a laugh she hoped Tiffanette wouldn’t figure out was fake. “Don’t worry—Luke won’t know a thing.”

“Fine. Bring him to Wichita,” Tiffanette ordered. “Meet us at midnight in front of the Museum of World Treasures.”

“Wichita?” Glory frowned. “In Kansas?”

“No, Wichita in France,” Tiffanette snapped. “Of course, Wichita in Kansas. I’d have my crew pick you up in Tulsa, but they’re too busy finding their own ride. Did you have to wreck their car? It was a rental.”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.” Glory frowned. “I still don’t get why we’re going to Wichita. Or why you want to meet us at midnight. But I could probably get us there in about four hours.” Luke was waving his arms furiously, trying to get her to finish up the conversation. She was asking too many questions; Tiffanette might get suspicious. Only, Glory figured Tiffanette thought their arrangement was locked in. One ruggedly handsome billionaire in exchange for two million in cold, hard cash. The blonde assumed everyone else was just as greedy as she was.

Besides, Glory was curious.

A snort. Then, “Girl, you’ve got teams of us driving all over this side of the Mississippi, looking for you. I ended up in Wichita. And you will, too. But not until I get my people in place, which means you bring Luke to me at midnight. Dead or alive. Do you understand?”

Glory almost laughed. Almost.

She was hot. She was tired. Her entire life she’d put up with people pushing her around. Telling her what to do. But it had always been for the greater good. For the good of Beaux, her family, and making sure the Fourth of July barbecue went off without any unexpected bangs. She wasn’t going to be ordered around by a bleached-blond bimbo. Not for a million dollars. Not for two million. Not for a billion.

Not for a kidnapping, and not for a murder.

Some things were more important than money. Family. Community. Friends. If she showed back up in Beaux without the money to buy Dandelion House, everyone would be sad, disappointed, but they’d get over it. A few days, a week, and they’d be laughing. Telling the story of her crazed trip to Las Vegas over and over again until it became a legend.

No matter what she did, they’d still love her in the morning.

Luke was standing less than two feet away. Close enough to touch.

A single stroke was enough to make her insides melt. The man was so damn hot—like standing in front of the diner’s grill on a blistering August day—but it was more than that. He was tender, caring. He’d touched something deep in her heart. She curled her fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt. Pulled him close. Splayed her hand out across his chest. His heart beat a steady tattoo underneath her fingertips.

She looked at Luke.
Really
looked at him. Damn, she loved what she saw.

“I heard you,” she said, her voice strong and steady. “I’ll get him there. Dead or alive. And you’d damned well better have the money ready. Otherwise, I’m going to strap a firework to your behind and light up the night.” Glory slammed the phone shut, then took a deep breath, forcing air down into her lungs.

Bravado aside, this was bad.

The bad guy knew her name. Her phone number. If Tiffanette was able to trace her phone the same way she’d traced Luke’s… The fact that the goons weren’t on them right now meant the phone’s location hadn’t been traced. But suddenly she wasn’t so sure that the phone couldn’t be tracked. Just because the bad guys weren’t shooting at them at the moment didn’t mean they wouldn’t be, and soon.

Luke had disabled the SUV, but even in the middle of nowhere, it couldn’t take
that
long for Tiffanette’s team to find a new shiny black four-by-four to go a’ hunting in. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the flip phone into the river.

The thing made a solid splash entering the water. It was five years old, without Internet, texting, or
Angry Birds
. It was also her only contact with home. Oh, well.

She kept her hand on Luke’s chest. “You heard. You, for two million. Dead or alive.” Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. She could taste blood where she’d accidentally bitten herself. Suddenly the fishing hole seemed a whole lot less peaceful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find out more. I’m sorry I got mad and—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Luke leaned down, kissing her softly, consuming her with a passion she didn’t know how to identify. When he was done, he murmured against her ear, “We beat the bad guys.”

She pulled back, surprised. “How do you figure? They want you dead.”

“Think about it. We got away. We were hurt, but we survived. We’re smarter. We’re stronger.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss. “We’re together.”

Together. Glory’s heart fluttered in her chest. “Tiffanette knows who I am. She called my phone.”

“It doesn’t matter. Tiffanette made a mistake. She’s underestimated you, just like we all underestimated you back at the poker game. You were right. A good bluff isn’t cheating, it’s all skill. You did great, sweetheart. She’s convinced you want the money more than you want me. And now”—his grin was wide, wolfish—“now we’re going to get her. When we get back to civilization, I’ll call my detective and have him contract with a private security firm. The kind of business that will do anything this side of legal. Burke can get them to Wichita, no problem. Those guys will do anything for the right price. Tiffanette will think she’s meeting us, and she’ll walk right into their trap.”

“And you?” she asked, unsure of how she wanted him to answer. “What are you going to do?”

“I already told you. I’m taking you home.”