Vegas Vacation (4 page)

“Like what?”

Her fingers played with her cross as she tried to reign in her impatience. “Maybe he touched something with nuts in. We both know he's allergic to those.”

His voice faded as he consulted someone in the room with him. Then his voice grew loud again. “And maybe you were the target and not him. Garth thinks, and I agree, that you'd be better off cutting your trip short and coming home. After all, if you'd stayed at home, like we wanted, this wouldn't have happened.”

Target? Garth thinks, and you agree? No change there then
. “There is nothing new in me being a target. According to Garth I've been one since the moment I was born. I've been here less than two days. It's a three week trip. The protection officer the police gave me is more than competent.”

Papers rustled and tapped on the desk. “Yes, Sgt. Martin Joseph Ames, single, thirty-five, ex-protective services, due to leave the force owing to a disability in five weeks. He's calling it retirement, but in reality he resigned and is working out his notice. Burnt badly in a fire fifteen months ago, walks with a cane, several commendations for bravery, and not afraid to shoot to kill if need be. Tell me, if he is so good at his job, why's he leaving it and why did they give you a disabled body guard?”

Tamlyn scowled. She'd love to know the answers to both those questions herself. “Doesn't your research tell you that as well?”

“Unfortunately, not. Well, I don't want him protecting you. Garth says you need someone who can keep up with you. He volunteered, so he should be with you tomorrow. Until then you're not to leave the hotel suite. Or you come home.”

Her hand curled into a fist as her temper and voice rose. “
No way
. I spent too long planning this.”

“And if you were the target and not Raleigh?”

Tamlyn snorted. “You have drummed that into me for years.” She began to impersonate him. “
You're my only child, Tammy. If someone decides to kidnap you, it'll put the future of the whole estate into jeopardy
. Yeah, right, the only thing that bothers you is it'd cost you a fortune to pay the ransom. I'm not a child anymore. Sgt. Ames is doing a good job of protecting me. He's saved me already.”

“What?” Her father yelled down the phone, making her wince.

Oops. Backtrack fast, or he'll find a way to ‘beam' Garth over here.
“Some bloke made a pass at me in the lift. He assumed because we were both British we should become bosom buddies. Nothing to worry about, like I said, Sgt. Ames dealt with it. I'll see you in three weeks, as planned. Bye.”

Tamlyn screamed in frustration.

The door flung open. “Police, freeze.”

She spun around.

Martin stood there, his shirt half on, gun in his hands.

It took her a moment to realize his cane was nowhere in sight. “Martin?”

“What's wrong? Are you all right? I heard you scream.” His eyes swept the room and he lowered his gun as he realized there was no immediate threat. He slid the gun into the back of his trousers, then tugged his shirt closed, fastening the buttons securely.

“I'm sorry, didn't mean to worry you. Dad rang and started having a go at me like it's my fault.” She tossed her phone to the bed and screwed her hands into fists. How did her father always manage to do this to her? She glanced up as Martin crossed the room and took her cold hands in his warm ones. “Where's your cane?”

“In the other room. You must be cold.” He handed her the robe from where she'd tossed it the night before. “Put this on.”

“Thanks.” She pulled it around her, calmer now, and aware of the fact she only had shorts and a vest on.

“Welcome. Hungry?”

She nodded.

“Then I'll order breakfast.”

 

****

 

Martin turned his back on Tamlyn for a moment and picked up the phone. He was relieved she'd covered up a little. This assignment was hard enough as it was without the added distraction of a beautiful woman flaunting herself at him, however accidental it may be. “This is Martin Ames in the Lake suite. I'd like two breakfasts of pancakes and fruit sent up please, with coffee and juice. Thank you.”

“Pancakes for breakfast? What's wrong with bacon, egg, sausage and beans?”

“Yeah, pancakes.” He looked at her like she had a third eye. “Beans for breakfast? That sounds totally disgusting. What upset you?”

Tamlyn sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Dad suddenly thinks I was the target and not Raleigh. He wants me to go home, or he'll send Garth out. He doesn't think you're suitable.”

Martin sat beside her. “Oh?”

“I told him you were and not to send Garth, but that's like trying to stop the tide coming in.”

“I'll call him. Whatever he may think, Raleigh got sick on US soil and that puts it squarely in my jurisdiction. Therefore you're my case, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

He studied her for a long moment, reading between the lines. Something he'd found increasingly easy over the years on the force. “You don't get on with your father, do you?”

Tamlyn shook her head. “Never have, but it's just gotten worse since Mum died and I got sent to live with him.”

“What happened?”

She worried her bottom lip before she answered. “My parents divorced soon after my eighth birthday. Mum got custody, and we moved to the other end of the country. After Grandma died, we didn't have any contact with Dad. He didn't even write, or send birthday cards. We spent Christmases and summer holidays with my mum's sister in Berkshire. Uncle Harry was the eldest son, but he died childless when I was fifteen, so Dad became the Earl of Warwick.” She pushed her hands through her hair. “I lost Mum in a car accident the day after my sixteenth birthday. Dad had a stab of paternal instinct, or guilt, and insisted I live with him.”

“If you're not happy, why not simply move out?”

“I've tried, believe you me. But anyway, here I am, mid-twenties, and still under Dad's thumb. I hate it. I planned this holiday down to the last detail and gave it to him as if it were a business proposal. Then I had to promise to stick to Raleigh like glue and phone home every day.”

Someone knocked on the main door. “Room service.”

“I'll be right back.” Martin got up, leaving the room as rain began to pound against the window.

The waiter stood at the door with the room service trolley. Martin took hold of the cart.

“I'll do that,” the kid said.

Martin shook his head. “I got it.” He tipped the kid and wheeled the cart into the suite. It took him two minutes to set the table. “Breakfast's ready,” he called.

“I'm coming.” Tamlyn came into the main room and smiled as she saw the table set for two, a vase of flowers acting as centerpiece. “Very elegant. I feel totally underdressed.”

“You're in Vegas...there is no such thing as underdressed.” Martin pulled out a chair for her.

Tamlyn sat down. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” He sat opposite her. “May I say grace?”

She smiled. “I'd like that, thank you.”

Once he had done so, he coated his pancakes with butter and poured maple syrup over them.

Tamlyn paused, glancing over the array of fruit and bottles of syrup.

“What's up? Is something missing?”

“There's no lemon juice. I've never had pancakes for breakfast before or had anything other than lemon juice and sugar with them.”

“Seriously? Lemon juice on pancakes and in cola?” He shook his head. “You Brits are weirder than the TV makes you out to be.” He shoved a bottle towards her. “Strawberries and syrup. Try it.”

Cautiously, she did as he suggested, then smiled. “This is good.”

“Can I say I told you so?”

She shook her head. “No. So tell me about the cane?”

“It's a general issue wooden cane,” he said guardedly, the walls he'd erected going back up hard and fast. The cane was his business, no one else's.

“Yesterday you were limping heavily and leaning on it. This morning you run into my room, gun in both hands, cane nowhere in sight. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a crutch.”

His face burned along with the pit of his stomach. He had to change the subject, and fast. “I'd rather discuss your plans for today.”

“I wanted to see the Grand Canyon, but it's raining, so maybe not. I don't want to do anything that involves creeps in blue suits who like leering at me.”

“OK. No leering at you or wearing a blue suit.” He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “And I won't creep, either.”

“You're silly.” She broke off another piece of pancake, looked at it and put the fork down. “Dad's over five thousand miles away, and still he's controlling me. One thought of him and I'm no longer hungry. He was so cross on the phone, said it's my fault Raleigh's sick. If I hadn't come away, he'd be all right.”

Martin laid a gentle hand over hers, keeping his voice soft. She didn't need yelling at. He felt nothing but compassion for her. “It isn't your fault. What you need is a distraction. We'll go and get the chip you wanted to start your collection with. Do you have a list of the casinos you need?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I do. Figured I'd start with the one here.”

“OK. Get dressed, and I'll see you in a minute.” He watched her get up before finishing his breakfast. Then he headed into his room and put on a tie. He checked the gun then slid it into the holster. Grabbing his jacket, he shrugged into it then looked at the cane. Truth was he didn't need it, at least not the way everyone thought he did. But that was no concern of anyone but him.

Leaning on the cane, he headed back into the sitting room. He stared out at the fountains although they were barely visible through the rain.

Tamlyn stood beside him.

“Ready?” Martin spoke to her reflection

“Willing and able.”

“Then let's go.”

 

****

 

Tamlyn followed Martin across the lobby. What was the real reason behind the cane? She knew he didn't need it and he'd changed the subject quickly enough. Did he know how that smile of his affected her? For that matter, did he realize how little his scars mattered?

They headed into the casino, and she paused for a minute to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. “Where's the best place to get a chip?”

Martin glanced at her. “Pick a table and ask. You'll need to show your ID to prove you're over twenty-one.”

“Don't I look over twenty-one?”

“That's beside the point. It's a legal thing.”

Tamlyn glanced around and pointed to an empty table. “That one.”

Martin nodded. “OK.”

Tamlyn walked across to the table, her heart in her mouth. Miranda made this sound so simple.

The dealer smiled at her.

Tamlyn smiled back. “Hi. Would it be possible to have a one dollar chip, please?” She pulled her ID out of her bag and showed him.

He checked her ID then took the dollar. He sorted through the chips and handed her one.

Tamlyn smiled. “Thank you.” She put it in her bag and turned away. She wandered across the casino. Despite the early hour some of the tables were busy. “Can I play something?”

“Play something?” Amusement tinged his voice.

“Yeah. I can't come all this way and not play.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “OK, how about the slot machines?”

She pulled a face. “I'm not a child.”

“Good, otherwise I'd arrest you for underage gambling.”

“Where do I get the quarters from?”

He nodded. “You don't need quarters anymore, the machine takes twenties. You can get change from the cage over there. I wouldn't get too much though.”

“Are you my father or my bodyguard?”

“I'd like to get this done in a morning,” he said dryly.

Tamlyn made her way over to the cage, changed five hundred dollars for a stack of twenties. She ignored Martin's narrowed eyes and headed over to the slot machines. Picking one at random, she glanced across the room, seeing Blue Suit, though no longer in his blue suit, leaning against another bank of slot machines, his gaze fixed on her. He really was a creep.

She turned back to the machine in front of her; unable to shift the feeling he was watching her. It seemed everywhere that she went, he went too.

Now you're being stupid, Tam. He's not following you. You're both staying in the same hotel. You're bound to bump into him
.

“Tamlyn.” Martin's voice jerked her out of her thoughts.

She wrinkled her nose at the amused expression on his face. “What?”

“Insert a bill and pull,” he told her.

The dials spun and land on three different images. She glanced at the pile of twenties in her hand. Martin was right. This could take some time.

 

 

 

 

 

5

 

Martin leaned against the wall, a combination of boredom and amusement filling him as Tamlyn made her final pull. He shifted his weight, hoping they could go now. He'd noticed the close attention the Brit, Daniel Haynes, was paying her. She constantly referred to him as Blue Suit; even though his suit was brown today. He was still waiting for the report on the guy to come back. Until then he'd make sure he kept Tamlyn safe.

Tamlyn smiled. “That was fun.”

He shook his head. “You lost almost all your money.”

She shrugged. “There's plenty more where that came from. What shall we play next?”

“How about we don't
play
anything? We leave here, go to the next casino on your list, and get another chip for your collection?”

“You're a spoilsport, but OK.” Tamlyn shoved her hand into her pocket. “You suppose it's still raining outside?”