Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
How do you keep such exciting news a secret without losing your mind?
At the other end of my flight, there were two burly men in dark suits waiting for me. They were the same guys who had been with Michael Kage the night we’d met, and one of them held a poster board with my name misspelled on it.
Jammey Atwood.
I let it slide, though. Men who looked like they’d just stepped off of the set of Goodfellas could spell my name however they damn well pleased. As long as they didn’t shoot me and dump me in the Colorado River, I figured I could be gracious enough to overlook the fact that they were phonetically challenged.
WHEN the car pulled up to the front of a hotel on the Vegas Strip, I just about shit my pants. I suppose I’d expected my new job to be in the sweat-scented office of some dingy little back alley gym. This was something else altogether. The building had a glass front that showcased a glittering lobby in a sophisticated color palette of blues, greens and grays. As one of the goons opened the glass door, I was assaulted by the sights and sounds of the darkened casino that lay beyond the lobby.
“Nice,” I said lamely. It was the first word I’d uttered since climbing into the car. And by car, I mean sleek white Range Rover SUV limo. Apparently, this was what rich dudes were being driven around in these days.
The goons ignored my comment, which was not surprising. They’d spent the entire ride pretending I didn’t exist. Now one walked ahead, and I followed, feeling goon number two close on my heels as we crossed the diamond-patterned carpet to the front desk. A porter stepped up beside us, pushing a cart that held my two suitcases and duffel bag. They looked underwhelming, a little too trailer trash for this establishment. The only thing that could have been more embarrassing than my ragged luggage was plastic grocery sacks.
“This is Kage’s new intern,” the first goon told the young man behind the counter. “Mr. Santori said put him in a suite.”
The tiny blond desk clerk, whose name was Steve according to his silver name tag, tapped on his computer keyboard. “Best available?”
“Whatever.” Aldo grated.
Steve frowned at my testy chaperone. “Jesus. Who pissed in your cornflakes, Aldo?”
Aldo literally growled. “Aaron and me got babysitting duty today, as you can see.” He hooked a meaty thumb over his shoulder in my direction.
Steve smiled at me, and his gaze roamed freely over my body. I was wearing a t-shirt— a tight red one that Braden would have shaken his head at— and a pair of low-slung jeans, but I got the impression that Steve’s imagination was ripping them right off of me. “Cute baby. What’s his name?”
Aldo shrugged. “Trouble.”
“This baby does have ears,” I pointed out. “And my name is not Trouble, it’s Jamie Atwood. Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand, and Steve shook it. Delicately and deliberately, and a little longer than necessary.
“Nice to meet you, too. Oh, it says here that the Sky Room has already been reserved for a Mr. James Atwood. I’ve heard that one is absolutely gorgeous, but I’ve never gotten to see inside it.”
“I could let you take a look sometime,” I said. “No problem.”
“That is so sweet of you.” Steve’s smile sparkled. “Isn’t he just adorable, Aldo? Look at those kissy lips.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake,” Aldo groaned. “Are we finished here? I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Go,” Steve told him with a shooing motion. “I’ve got this under control. Just get out of here before you get your negativity all over me.”
Aldo and his silent partner Aaron disappeared in a whoosh of air, and I was left with Steve and the porter, who may as well have been one of those cardboard cutouts that populate movie theater lobbies.
Steve stared at me after the goons were gone. “What the hell did you do to Aldo?”
“Nothing!” I was indignant. “Why would you think I did something? I don’t even know those guys. They just picked me up from the airport and drove me here.” I thought of the MMA event where I’d first met Kage, remembering the way they flanked him the entire time. “Actually, I’ve seen them before, but I swear I’ve never done anything to either of those guys.”
Steve looked skeptical, but he just smirked and handed me a key card for my room. “Okay, go hop on one of those.” He indicated a bank of silver elevators directly behind me. “Third floor, turn right, all the way at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it. It’s the only one with double doors.” He winked, like there was some private joke I had yet to be let in on.