The Nymph's Curse: The Collection (65 page)

“Hey ladies … ” the drunken man with the jacket covered in body glitter called. “If you girls are looking for some real men instead of those puny motherfuckers you’re with … “ He pointed out the glass doors where Kodie and Chance were standing with the valet. “You can come right over.” The peal of laughter echoed in the empty marble lobby.

Starling looked over to Harper with fear in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Harper said, trying to comfort the young girl. “Why don’t you go with your dad and Kodie? I’ll be right along.”

Starling turned around and walked outside.

“Hiya, boys,” Harper said in her best voice of seduction. The ripples of her nymph magic vibrated the air around her and she could see the waves overtake the men as she neared. “You’re all
so
handsome. Do your wives know where you are?”

The glittered man’s mouth fell open as he stared at her with what could have been best described as desperate fuck-me eyes. “I’m … I’m … ” the man stammered. “I’m getting married this weekend.”

“Oh really?” She smiled and stepped close. “What about the rest of you?”

The blond man who had whispered to his friend shook his head and his hair fell back slightly, exposing his receding hairline. “Our wives don’t need to know
anything
. You know the saying …
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas
.”

“I don’t think it always does … ” She gave half a laugh. “I’m known for doing things that leave an impression.”

“I bet you’ve done a few things,” the blond continued. “But you have never had a man as good as me. I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t walk right for a week.” He reached down and humped the air as if the trashy gesture was some kind of mating call.

“Only a week?” A wicked grin took over her lips. “I’ve been known to fuck so well that men could never walk again.”

The blond’s jaw dropped, but he quickly collected himself. “Prove it.”

“Hand me your phone and I will,” she said, stepping close enough to catch the scent of fading coconut body oil that must have been left over from their night at the strip club.

“Why do you need my cell?”

Harper let a surge of energy pass through her toward the man and his eyes glazed over. Perfect. “No pictures.” She wiggled her finger and the other men in the small circle laughed.

The man dug in his back pocket and handed her his white cell phone. She tapped the buttons and opened up the screen. There was a picture of a half-naked woman spread over the back of a motorcycle as his wallpaper. If she had to guess he must not have been getting much play at home, but from the state of the drunken, coconut-smelling man at her side, she could hardly blame his wife.

Clicking open his pictures, buried deep in the files, she found a picture of a mousy woman with sad eyes. She had to be his wife. The woman reminded her of an abused dog, slouching as if she was just waiting for another blow.

If the poor woman would have been some sumptuous egocentric looking woman, Harper would have snapped a picture of herself and sent the woman a text message with the words, “Your husband is a pig” embedded. Yet, after seeing the picture of the meek woman, it didn’t seem right. The poor woman probably had more than she could handle in her philandering husband.

Instead she opened up the internet and found an app for gay men and downloaded it to his phone. The phone opened to a menu entitled: “What kind of man do you wish to meet?” She laughed as she typed: “Wanted: one good man … Preferably denim clad Dom with ample assets for play. I’m shy. Cameras welcome.”

With a flick of the wrist, she dropped the homosexual homing beckon into the man’s pocket. She giggled as she imagined his next experience in the men’s bathroom in the massive hotel.

The doors to the lobby opened and she turned as Kodie, Chance, and Starling made a beeline to her and the group of men.

“Have a good night, boys.” She gave a little wave of the fingers as she stepped away from the group.

“Wait … ” the drunken man called after her as she strode toward Chance.

“What in the hell is going on? Starling told me — ” Chance started.

“Don’t worry about it,” she answered with a mischievous grin. “I took care of them.”

“What did you do?” Kodie asked.

Her smile grew wider. “If I were you, I would avoid being near him unless you are interested in meeting one
good
man.”

She grabbed Chance’s arm and steered him away from the drunken men, but he kept looking back over his shoulder toward the pigs. “Are you sure you don’t need me to talk to them?”

“Trust me on this. I’ve been dealing with men longer than you’ve been one.”

Kodie snickered.

The woman behind the massive welcome desk smiled as they made their way over to her. “Hello, and welcome to the Bellagio. How can I help you this morning?” Her voice was robotically chipper as if all humanness had long ago seeped out of the gold-plated machine that was the hotel.

Chance stepped forward and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I have a reservation for a two room suite under the name Chance Landon.”

He was met with a tap of keys as the woman put his name into the computer. “Oh yes, Mr. Landon, it says here you are playing in the Champions of Poker Tournament. As a thank you for your participation in such a prestigious event we have upgraded your suite to the penthouse and also compensated you for your room. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to let us know. All of your incidentals will be on the house.”

“I guess I only have one question, and that’s about my daughter. She’s not quite eighteen. She was hoping to watch the tournament, would it be okay?”

“As you are a VIP guest we will make an exception, sir. However, she must not stand too close to the gaming tables and she must be accompanied by an adult.”

“Not a problem.” Chance slid his wallet back down into his pocket. “Thank you.” The words came out almost as if they were a question.

“It’s the Bellagio’s pleasure, sir. We are honored to have you staying as one of our guests.”

As long as Harper had been alive, she’d never been treated like a famous person. She’d never had a room comped, even when she’d gone to pharmaceutical conventions. Up until this moment she’d never really thought of Chance as famous, but as the woman across the desk finally broke her robotic demeanor and gave Chance a provocative smile, she could no longer be blind to his reality. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to quit the game, to start living a life devoted to a child. He may have been a drifter by definition, but there was so much more — so much she didn’t know.

A strange sadness filled her. Until now, she’d thought she understood him and what made him tick. Had she been wrong all along? She glanced over at him and noticed the way his strong jaw made an elegant line as it melded into the tanned flesh of his neck. A neck that only a handful of hours ago she’d been kissing. Heat permeated from her core.

The woman’s dangerous smile fell from her lips as she glanced to Harper then down at her computer screen. “Also, Mr. Landon, it looks as though you have someone waiting for you in the penthouse.”

“You allowed someone into my room?” Chance growled.

“Sir, it says here that he is a friend of the casino floor manager. The man was not to be dissuaded.” Smiling, as if she hadn’t just told them all there was a stranger in their room, the clerk pushed four room keys into a small folder and handed it to Chance. The woman’s fingers trembled as she stared up at Chance’s face. “May you take the others in the tournament to the mattress, sir.”

Harper chuckled. The only mattress the woman cared about was one she hoped to share with Harper’s man. She stepped forward and slipped her arm through the crook of Chance’s. “Oh, I’m sure he will. Mr. Landon isn’t the kind of man to be underestimated.”

A vase sat on the dining room table at the center of the penthouse suite. A bouquet of white, hopeful lilies reached out like begging hands — but there was no hope to be found in the room — at least not now. Not when, in the adjoining living room, two men waited in overstuffed lounge chairs. Each man wore a black suit and neither wore a smile. The younger man, with brown hair bordering on black, scanned the room constantly and his body was at full attention, standing guard over the gentleman with the silver threaded hair. Something about the pair reminded Harper of guidos from the Italian mafia.

“Sir, they are here,” the bodyguard said, dropping his hand to his hip where he must have been carrying a weapon.

The stoic gray-haired man turned as the small group of road worn travelers walked into the living room.

“Chance Landon?” The gray-haired man stood up and extended his hand, but the simple action was performed with the formality of a state meeting.

“Yes. And you are?” Chance stared at the man’s hand for a moment and then stepped forward and gave it a stern shake.

“I’m Mr. Blackwater, the gaming commissioner here in Vegas.”

Recognition flickered on Chance’s face. Kodie stepped back and behind Harper, as if all of a sudden he no longer wanted to be standing in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Chance motioned to the chair. “Please sit.”

“We aren’t planning on staying long. We just needed to have a quick meeting with you, preferably without your associates.”

Harper glanced over at Chance and there was a look of mild terror on his face — like a man facing the executioner. What had he gotten himself into? What wasn’t he telling her? Why would the gaming commissioner want to see Chance the moment he arrived in Las Vegas?

The man’s bodyguard stepped toward Chance and whispered something in his ear. A trace of terror rippled over his features, but was replaced by an impassive front. His terror was disconcerting — when he, a poker player, let his emotions slip, all that she could be certain of was that it was something unusual, something terrifying. Yet his cold impenetrability was far more disconcerting than his fear.

“Why don’t you and Starling run to the lab and see if you can find Dr. McDougal? I’m going to need to handle a few things before the tournament begins.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, trying to ignore the mixture of angst, concern, and fear for Chance. She already knew what his answer would be, but her protectiveness for him wouldn’t allow her to walk away without attempting to stay.

“Yes,” Chance said with a stiff nod. “I’ll be fine.” His gaze flickered to the bodyguard’s gun-laden hip. “Here.” He pulled the parking stub from his pocket and handed it to Harper.

She stuffed the stub into her purse, but she stared at the bodyguard’s hand, which rested on the lump under his suit jacket.

There was no way he would let Harper and Starling stay, and there was nothing she could do about it — except hope she could find an ally in Kodie. She turned to him. “Kodie, we don’t need you to come with us. Why don’t you stay here with Chance?”

The bodyguard stepped toward her, but Mr. Blackwater stopped him with a wave of the hand. “Yes, Kodie can stay, but under the condition he stands outside of the door while we discuss our business.”

At the very least Kodie would be there if anything got out of line. She glanced at Kodie and he gave her a small acknowledging nod. “Fine.”

“Let’s go, Starling,” she said, leading the teen from the penthouse. The door closed behind them with an isolating, fearful thud, which paralleled the feeling in her stomach. She hated leaving Chance there to face the commissioner alone. She stared at the gold number plate next to the door. All that glittered most certainly was not gold. Everything about this tournament was tainted through greed, fear, and secrets — and she had the feeling there were more secrets that would be exposed long before the final card was played.

She and Starling made their way to the elevator bank and silently waited. Finally the door opened, but Harper hesitated — as soon as she left, there would be no way she could help Chance. Everything that happened to him would be out of her control.

The elevator dinged, she stepped into the empty car, and the doors slid shut behind them.

“Harper?” Starling asked.

“Hmm?”

“I know I told Chance he was an asshole and everything, but do you think he’s going to be okay?”

How had she forgotten that she wasn’t alone in her fears about Chance being in harm’s way? She needed to stay strong. She may not have been able to control what was happening to Chance or to protect him, but she could protect his daughter.

“He’s going to be fine. I’m sure they always have to meet with the gaming commissioner before these big tournaments. I’m sure there are a lot of things they have to talk about before the game.”

Starling gave her a sideways glance. “Really?”

Harper forced herself to smile. “Absolutely.” When Jenna had been alive she would have seen right through Harper’s lie. The only time she ever said “absolutely” was when she wasn’t sure or when she was extremely nervous — and usually they were simultaneous occurrences.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“Absolutely not,” she said with a forced nonchalance.

“What about us? Do you think we are going to be able to find Dr. McDougal?”

“We’ll try.” Her gut told her no, but if she was telling one or two lies she might as well keep going.

They made their way out into the lobby, which had started to fill with a few tourists that, from their excited on-the-top-of-the-world energy, had just arrived. It would have been nice to feel the same enthusiasm, the same level of excitement that everything would turn out great — that they would all come away from this place as winners. No matter how deep Harper searched her soul, she couldn’t find anything close to excitement — she found fear, but buried even deeper there was an almost imperceptible flicker of hope. That tiny bit of blind hope would have to carry them through for a while. This was all out of her control — and maybe that fact, the uncontrollability, was what she feared the most.

The concierge smiled at them and made his way over. “May I help you, ladies?”

“Yes,” Harper said with her overworked smile. “Do you know where I can find Shaw Pharmaceuticals?”