Playing Against Type: Soulgirls, Book 4 (4 page)

Why, indeed?
Examining his personal motives in the public setting wasn’t ideal, so he skipped to a more basic truth. “You’re a very attractive woman and despite your choice of opening gambits, I’ve enjoyed your company. I would like to continue enjoying it. How would you like to visit the casino with me?”

Chapter Three

The invitation startled Pepper, but she found herself accepting. They left the Palo without dessert and rode the elevator in silence. With his sharp-eyed focus pointed elsewhere, she studied his profile. Dashing with just a hint of danger. He wasn’t a classically handsome man, but his features arrested her—held her captive. She couldn’t fathom why the Overseers would fear him.

Except he sees things as they really are…

Finn glanced sideways at her and a nervous flutter shuddered through her.

What does he see when he looks at me?

“What is your favorite part of the casino?” he asked, looking forward. The question batted around inside of her. It didn’t mean anything, that simple, polite inquiry. It was a conversation starter. Nothing more.

“I like all of it.” Not that she’d seen all of it. Or even most of it. “There’s dance clubs, game tables, theatres and shows, restaurants. I think there’s even an amusement park.”

The elevator doors glided open with a ding.

“Okay.” He motioned for her to precede him and she stepped out into the lobby. The crossroads of the Arcana Royale, the lobby was a vast cavern of light, both artificial and sun-kissed. High above, a statue of a sphinx gazed dispassionately down at all those who passed beneath his—no, her—purview. The expensive parquet tiles gleamed golden in the light. No matter how much foot traffic the area saw, Pepper never noticed any scuff marks.

Pepper’s heart squeezed at the increased crowd. So many people pressed into the space it was hard to believe how large it was. She preferred her crowds in the audience, without the press of bodies so close to her own. Finn cupped her elbow and looked at her expectantly.

“What?” She wished she could have said no to Heidi’s request. Surely the stage manager could have picked a better dancer for this mission. She was a terrible liar. The farce in the restaurant only helped prove it.

“I’m sure there was an answer somewhere in your statement. I asked you what was your favorite part of the Arcana Royale.”

“But I said I like all of it.” He questioned the one lie she hadn’t told? Oddly, a flare of irritation quieted her nerves.

“And as vague and unspecific as your answer was, you could have been reading details off a brochure.” He followed the circuitous path around the great fountain toward the gambling floor. Lights flashed, music played, and the clink of glasses filled the air like a film score. Croupiers called out numbers, dealers issued their cards, and a thousand different voices blended together into a background hum.

She laughed. “Okay, I can concede that point. I don’t know that much about the Arcana. I don’t spend a lot of time out here.” Tap dancing closer to the truth probably wasn’t the safest of strategies, but she was far more comfortable with it.

“No? Where do you spend your time?” They paused at the top of the steps descending to a gambler’s paradise. Most of the games on this level were open to the public and fit with the Las Vegas image. Craps, blackjack, poker and roulette tables filled pockets of space set in the maze of slot machines. Waiters and waitresses weaved through the crowd delivering drinks. Staring at the throng, Pepper wondered how many were human—the Arcana Royale didn’t employ that many.

Finn stepped into her line of sight, speculation filling his dark eyes. “Are you all right?”

She summoned up a smile.
Way to act nonchalant…
“I’m fine. Sorry.” Shaking her head, she laughed again. “Okay, that was a lie. I think I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

His expression eased at the admission. Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded toward one of the tables. “Do you want to sit or play slots?”

“Isn’t that what old ladies play?”

“Not the way I play it.” There was a challenge hidden in his statement. Finn kept asking her what she wanted, but since saying she’d rather rush back to the theatre and get ready for the stage show was out, it might be better to turn the question back on him. “What do
you
want to do?”
 

“Get to know you better.” His blunt response made her heart stutter. Pepper glanced up and locked gazes with him.

Is he playing me?
“I—” How did one respond to such an overture?

Turning, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led the way down the stairs, not leaving her much choice but to follow or be dragged along. He bypassed the tables and found a quiet corner—if any casino really had one—where the bank of machines sat empty and waiting.

Pulling over a stool, he seated her in front of one and then snagged a second stool so he could sit next to her. Interestingly, he positioned himself between her and the corridor made up of slot machines, but his back remained protected. She’d watched Anthony enough during practices to notice the similarities. Roseâtre’s mate never left his back to an open room unless she stood at it. He trusted her to protect him—no one else.

“Open your hand,” Finn instructed.

Curious, she extended her palm and he poured a dozen gold coins into it. She cupped her hand to keep them from falling. “So I guess you want to play.”

“Something like that.” He nodded to the machine in front of her. “Ever heard of the game Two Lies and a Truth?”

Apprehension fisted around her spine. “No.”

“Good. Then I’ll win.” He winked. “We play. If I get a jackpot before you do, you have to tell me two lies and a truth.”

“Why?”
What purpose would the game serve?

“Because it’s fun. If you get a jackpot first, I’ll tell you two truths and a lie.”

Pepper hesitated. “I thought you said two lies and a truth?”

“I did—for you. For me, it will be two truths and a lie.” He flipped a coin in the air and caught it.

“But—how do I know which one is the lie?”

A smile curved his lips. “That is the game. You must find one lie. I must find one truth. Deal?”

It seemed simple and straightforward enough, but she spent enough years in the Royale to recognize the easier something appears to be, the more likely it disguised something far more dangerous. “Are there any rules as to what the lies and truth have to be about?”

Finn leaned away from her, head canting. Her question seemed to please him. “No. You may choose anything you wish or you may allow me to ask a question. Your choice.”

“So I could tell you I love margaritas, blue skies, and gambling. And that would satisfy you?” She leaned toward him, studying his face. The minute changes fascinated her. His jaw tightened, briefly—the barest hint of a flex and a pair of lines formed at the corners of his eyes.

“Satisfy me? No.” His voice curled around her like a caress. “Satisfy the rules? Yes.”

Her thighs clenched at the moody darkness drifting in his voice. Particularly when he said no. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Do you know which of what I said was the truth?”

“Blue skies.” The absolute certainty in the answer startled her.

“How did you know?”

Chuckling, he looped a strand of her hair around his finger and tucked it behind her ear. The casual intimacy in the gesture sent a fresh wave of tingles through her. “Your eyes lit up when you said blue skies.”

Okay. This is a heck of a lot harder than I thought…
Her gut knotted. Rubbing the coins together in her hand, she mulled the game over some more. “Your turn. Tell me two truths and a lie.”

“You haven’t won that yet.” He stroked one finger down her cheek, the contact muddying her thoughts.

“But I told you one.”
 

“Yes, but that was your choice. You were clarifying and I didn’t ask for it. Are we going to play?”

We already are.
“So we play till one of us hits a jackpot.”

He scooted his stool closer to the machine and propped a coin at the slot opening and waited. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Squaring her shoulders, she faced the machine.
Okay, if the Overseers want to keep this from getting out of hand, they’ll let me win.
“Ready?”

“Go.” He pushed the coin inside and she mirrored his action. They pulled the arms on their respective machines at the same time. The slots spun and she barely noticed the flying colors, every nerve in her body alive instead with awareness of the man seated next to her.

It went simply enough—they each scored points, but no jackpots. When she suggested new machines, he let her lead the way. They had so many to choose from—DaVinci’s Diamonds, Jackpot House Party—and then a tall set of green machines caught her eye and she pointed to them.
Monster House.
 

“Seems appropriate,” Finn said. She tried not to read too much into his statement.
 

He pulled out the chair for her and they settled in at side-by-side machines. The play this time went much swifter. Pepper scowled at the machine. Five columns with six rows and so many possible combinations. “I really don’t understand how you’re supposed to win at this.” The oddest things seemed to give her points.

“It’s all algorithms, but you really just have to worry about the first three columns. The last two are bonuses.” He tried to explain more on her next play, but was cut off by a woman’s scream.
 

The Bride of Frankenstein popped out on the screen and swept across it, turning all of the Frankenstein’s monsters into wild cards. Heart racing from the shock of sound and coins falling, she caught Finn watching her with amusement. “It scared me.”

“I see that.”

His screen now made a shrieking sound and Dracula turned into a bunch of bats. Intrigued, Pepper kept hitting the button for the next play. Despite his laid back attitude, Finn perked up every time a new bonus type played out—they got to see the wolfman turn under the moon, Frankenstein’s Bride returned a couple more times, the Mummy stalked across the screen, and a series of wilds filled their buckets.
 

When three bonuses appeared on Pepper’s screen, she bolted up and the screen challenged her to twelve bonus spins. Finn leaned in close and they watched. A second game played out on the overhead window, and to Pepper’s utter delight, she kept finding the bonus keys and she went up, and up, and up—and then the jackpot lit up and the music blared.

“I did it!” She clapped her hands and Finn gave her a squeeze, laughter in his eyes.
 

“You did.” He barely got the bucket into place to catch the coins as they began to spill over.
 

Excitement vibrated through her. Winning was fun. Her bucket was damn near overflowing by the time the machine finished. “So I get two lies and a truth now? Or no wait, two truths and a lie.”
 

“I think you’re a beautiful woman,” Finn told her. “I haven’t had fun like this in longer than I can remember, and I’ll be sad to leave Las Vegas.”
 

Pepper frowned. He’d said all three statements with the same indulgent expression on his face. “Well, of course the first one is true or you’re being a jerk. Vegas is fun for most people, but I can’t imagine this is that much fun…” Even if it was for her. Why had she never played all the slot machines before? She had once—years ago when she first arrived at the casino, but that thrill had worn off after a while. But now… “So which is the lie?” Finn wasn’t biting as she fished around for him to confirm or deny before she chose.

“The fun one.”
 

He shook his head and winked. “We play on.”

Unless he
was
a jerk, that only left leaving Las Vegas.
He’s here on work, silly. Remember? And so are you.
That sobered some of her enjoyment. An hour passed and she was yawning despite the cocktail waitress bringing her two cups of coffee. Oddly, Finn ordered nothing.
 

When the jackpot rang again, she perked up—but this time the sound had come from Finn’s machine and not hers. He caught his winnings and gave her an expectant look.

“Two lies and a truth.” Sipping her coffee bought her some time to think about it. “I will be glad when you leave Las Vegas, I don’t get out that much, and change frightens me.”
 

“No you won’t,” he said without further explanation, and Pepper blushed. She really was transparent.

It was after midnight when Finn escorted Pepper to her hotel room door—only two doors down from his room. The Overseers were hardly subtle in their manipulations. Pepper’s fatigue, however, that had been real. She seemed well enough when she crashed his dinner, but by their last go at the slots a distinct pallor shone through despite her cosmetics.

Swiping his keycard, he paused inside the door to survey the layout. He knew they would have searched it by now. His time with Pepper certainly gave them plenty of opportunity. His equipment waited precisely where he left it. His clothes hung in the closet, not even the bed seemed disturbed. Housekeeping respected the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

Aware of their observation, he made a point of checking the digital recordings on his laptop. They would have removed or replaced most of his surveillance equipment by now.