Vegas Knights (23 page)

"Wow," was all she could manage.

"You like? Thought the color suited you, but we can get you another one if you don't like this one."

A crease formed on her brow. "Me? This is mine?"

She wanted to kiss the smile right off Rick's face. "It will be, as soon as you learn to drive it, and as soon as we collect my bike back in Vegas."

"Wait. You didn't drive here?"

He laughed. "Darlin', I know I'm fast, but there hasn't been a bike built that could get a man from Las Vegas to New York City in 12 hours."

"Then how...?"

"I flew."

The gravity of his words hit her like a sledgehammer. Rick hadn't flown since his father’s tragic death. He'd made it very clear he'd never get on a plane again.
 

She spoke barely above a whisper as she moved into the circle of his arms. "But I thought you didn't fly."

“Soon as I found out what was going on, I hopped the next flight. I was crazed. Liz had set you up and you only took a couple hundred bucks. I know this city, and it can be mighty unkind to those who aren't prepared for it. When you called Greta, she called me. I was about two blocks awaye."

"I can't believe you did that."

She tucked herself into the safety of his embrace, wondering at her idiocy for ever leaving him. She'd thought being an artist in New York meant something special, but it was no different than being an artist in Miami or Denver or Seattle or Las Vegas. She could paint anywhere, but she didn't want to do it at all if this man wasn't by her side.

"Ready to roll, beautiful?"

"More than you'll ever know."

"Where we headed?"

She thought for a moment, but there was only one option. "Into the night."

Epilogue

Rick plopped a thick envelope onto the bed as he crawled back under the covers with Kelly. They were snuggled up in the tiny alcove room at the Knight family cabin, watching the birds skitter across the lake. The past three months had sped by as they toured the country on Kelly's bike, which she'd gotten pretty good at driving. They decided to take a vacation from their vacation, and had been at the cabin all of three days.

"What's this?" Kelly asked, picking up the envelope, which was addressed to her.

"Dunno. Came in the mail." He pulled her into him so her back was resting on his chest and buried his face in her hair.
 

"Hey, watch it or I might get a paper cut!"

He growled with desire. "C'mon, live dangerously."

She giggled as his hands grazed her breasts, her nipples popping to attention. She playfully slapped one away as she opened the envelope. Several news clippings and flyers fell out onto her lap.

"What's all this?" She looked at the return address on the envelope. Pinyon Art Collective, Las Vegas NV. "Abuela! It's a care package from Greta!"

She flicked through them quickly, looking for a note but found none. Slightly disappointed that Greta hadn't sent a personal greeting, Kelly unfolded the largest piece of paper. It was a colorful flyer announcing an upcoming show at the Carson Gallery featuring one Brutus Salazar.
 

Kelly squealed. "Omigod! Brute's got a show!"
 

As she flipped through the pile, she found more flyers for shows featuring Brutus, one as far away as Los Angeles. "Holy shit, he's a hit!"

She stacked them all in a neat pile, counting five shows in the near future for her friend. Warmth spread through her at the wonderful and generous people she was surrounded by.
 

Not long after she and Rick had left Manhattan, Brutus received an anonymous one-way first-class ticket to Las Vegas and directions to Greta's gallery. Greta had been all too eager to meet him, saying that any friend of Kelly's was welcome in her studio. Considering the mess Kelly had gotten herself into just days before, she was worried Brute might not take the bait. But he must have figured it out, because here he was, making a big splash out west.
 

There were two more flyers in the pile, one for an exercise class at a prestigious gym and the other for a solo show at the Pinyon, featuring Syndee Reece. "Aw, Syndee finally got her own show." Rick hugged her tight in response. "Really, I'm so happy for her. She wasn't all bad."

Kelly looked at the exercise flyer more closely. It pictured a very svelte woman hanging upside down from a pole and was titled ‘Pole Dancing Basics with Syndee’.
 

Rick whistled at the price listed. "Guess she won't have to sell other people's secrets anymore!"

As Kelly read the details of the flyer, Rick picked up the last item in the pile. His loud bray of laughter made Kelly jump. "What?"

He could hardly catch his breath so he just handed her the clipping. At first she thought it was from a newspaper but the paper was much rougher than any newspaper. It was almost pulp, and the ink smeared at the slightest touch. Photos and ads were scattered on both sides, confusing Kelly until she noticed the name of the publication it was torn from: ‘Hot Girls for Hot Vegas Nights!’

She remembered the poor ladies handing out pulpy sex magazines on every corner of the strip, trying to eke out a meager living by slinging want ads for prostitutes. She couldn't understand why Greta would have sent such a thing to her.

Rick was still shaking with laughter behind her so she must have missed something. She flipped it over again and saw a familiar face looking back at her. "Need a date with a gorgeous, high-class redhead? Call Lisbeth. Discretion guaranteed!"
 

Kelly was speechless. When she finally found her voice, all she could manage was, "No way."

Rick snatched the paper from her fingers to have another look, and started laughing all over again. "Can't...breathe..."

"I don't get it. Didn't you give her a big settlement? I thought she was loaded."

Gulping air as he spoke, Rick explained. "I told you, Liz values status more than anything. Money is good but she never had a good handle on managing it. After we got married, the company lawyers scrambled to get her to sign a very generous pre-nup, one that would have set her up for life with monthly payments. But they looked small to Liz because she was only looking at the monthly amount, not what would accrue over a lifetime."

He fought off another round of giggles to continue. "She signed it, but when it came time to sign the divorce papers, she started pulling all sorts of stunts, claiming it wasn't enough, that she wouldn't be able to afford a home, that kind of shit. The morning I found your note, I knew I had to wrap things up pronto, so I offered her a trade. She'd forget the pre-nup settlement in exchange for the penthouse. That would be it. No alimony, no trust, nothing. Just the penthouse.

"God, you should have seen her eyes light up at that." He shook his head in disgust.
 

"I'm guessing she blew through whatever cash she had — God knows she didn't work — and when it came time to pay her taxes on the apartment, she lost it...or is in the process of losing it. I dunno, maybe she's selling it, but her greed is what brought her here." He tapped on her photo.

Suddenly it didn't seem so funny. They held each other and silently stared out at the vista before them, wondering at the strange turn of events that brought them there.

Kelly broke the silence. "Rick?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you say to going back to see one of Brute's shows? I don't think we could make the ones in Vegas, but we might catch the one in L.A. I'd really like to support him."

Rick kissed the top of her head and gave her another squeeze. "Sounds just about perfect. We can go visit Margaret Ann while we're there."

Rick had never mentioned anyone by that name before. "Who's Margaret Ann?"

"Not so much who as what. She's the family sailboat."

Kelly was confused. "But I thought your sailboat was in a storage shed here."

He chuckled. "We have another one. It's quite a bit bigger than the Herreshoff."

"How much bigger?"

He paused. "Sixty-five feet."

Kelly whirled in his arms to face him. "Sixty-five feet?! That's not a sailboat, that's a yacht!"

Laughing, Rick pulled her into a kiss. "Hardly, at least not compared to some of her neighbors."

It was still hard for Kelly to grasp just how wealthy Rick was, yet he was so down-to-earth and unpretentious. On the road, they still often checked into dodgy motels that his biker buddies ran. He said it was good for business to stay in touch with his customer base, but Kelly sensed it was more. He was one of them, a regular guy, he just happened to have a fat bank account.

"Hey, maybe we can take a ride out to the Channel Islands while we're there."

"Ooh, that sounds romantic!"

"Well, I certainly hope so. But I need to warn you that sailing isn't all white clothes and boat drinks. It's hard work and can be dangerous at times. There's an old saying that sailing is hours of absolute boredom punctuated with moments of sheer terror." He coiled a lock of her hair around his finger and watched it slide off. "Besides, we might just sail right off the edge of the world. Does that scare you?”

Kelly wasn't sure how serious he was about the danger, but the softness in his gaze told her that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe. His love for her ran deeper than the ocean, and she felt the same.
 

“Not if I’m with you.”
 

~ * ~ * ~

The End
 

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Keep reading for an excerpt from Knight Fall, available at all e-tailers for just 99 cents!

Knight Fall

Struggling artist Kelly Saunders lives a dystopian life at a corporate job she hates. Her perverted boss thrills in torturing her simply because she finds him physically repulsive, her coworkers have shunned her because of her luscious curves and bodacious rack, and she can't quit or she'll lose her apartment. Will a chance — and extremely hot — encounter with a sexy biker at a gas station spell freedom or trouble?

The warm smell of his leathers enveloped her. She closed her still-dazzled eyes and breathed deeply, hoping to clear her head. Mixing with the leather was a deeper, more animal scent. The rubber of her tires added a sharpness that muddled her thoughts even more. Her body was reacting to his closeness. She needed space, she needed to put some distance between them. She stood up quickly, too quickly, and got dizzy. Reaching out to steady herself, she found his burly, muscled shoulder. She nearly fainted.

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice went from seductive to concerned. He stood up and clutched her shoulder and hip to keep her from toppling over. The dampness that had formed between her legs turned to a faucet at his touch. What the hell was wrong with her?! She decided her best course of action was to blow him off as she'd done so many times before and head home to the box of wine she had in her fridge and the vibrator stashed away in her underwear drawer.

"Yeah, I...I just stood up too fast," she said dismissively, not meeting his gaze. "Thank you so much for bringing this to me. I would have been well and truly screwed."

He was silent but she could sense his body tensing, smell his musk. Her blood was thrumming in her ears. "You still could be, you know," he said.

"Could be what?"
 

Kelly looked up into his sea foam green eyes and was momentarily lost in them, like a sailor in a storm. Her breathing quickened as he eased closer to her, backing her into the side of the car. His gaze stayed locked on her. Planting one hand on either side of her, he leaned in, not touching her but she fairly burned with the heat of his body.
 

He dipped his head until his lips nestled in the hair covering her ear. "Screwed," he growled. "You could still be well and truly screwed."
 

Kelly's nipples responded by instantly leaping to attention, drawing a small grunt from her. His hot breath tickled her ear and she found herself pressing into him, needing to feel his body against hers. She leaned her head into his, and that was all the invitation he needed.

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About the Author

Marina Maddix is a romantic at heart, but hates closing the bedroom door on her readers. Her stories are sweet, with just enough spice to make your mother blush. She lives with her husband and cat near the Pacific Ocean, and loves to hear from her fans. Connect with her at:

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