Vegas, Baby (7 page)

“My new partner is not going to be a problem. I’m sure of that.” His words—soft, low and intense—fell into dead silence. Rio commanded her pounding heart to calm down before stepping into the living room. “Oh...I promise you,” he’d started talking again, but this time his voice carried an unmistakable ring of brutality. “It’s not that serious.”

Rio’s heart flew skyward. Here she was, prepared to pin her heart onto her sleeve for him, and he’s telling someone that
they
weren’t that serious. She clinched her hand over her mouth, keeping her shrilling cry at bay.

Oh
.
My
.
God
. The words bounced around her head.
I’m such a dumbass
.

She wobbled into the living room on legs that, just seconds ago felt like steel but now seemed more like jelly that’d been sitting out on the counter way too long.

When she’d managed a couple of steps into the outer room, Eddie’s gaze journeyed toward her. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver, didn’t crumble. “Everything’s fine, Ma.” His tone was way too calm for that statement, compared to the last thing he’d said into the phone. “I’ll be in touch. You take care.” He disconnected the call almost as soon as he stopped talking.

Damn. Liar. Eddie wasn’t talking to his mother. Nobody who’d cried over the loss of his sister would ever hang up on a call to their mother without saying, “
I love you
.”

He stood and slipped his phone into the front pocket of his Levi’s. “How’d you sleep?” His tone held no innuendo, so she had no idea how she was supposed to take that. Last night, when they were done feeding their raw desires, they’d talked for a while and then they said
goodnight
and went into their separate rooms.

He’d never left her thoughts or her dreams during the course of the night, but apparently she hadn’t found her way into his.

She’d thrown herself at Eddie LaCall, and this morning he threw her back. Rio didn’t need this right now. Especially with a stalker in the midst.

Did he still have a thing going on with that chick from Phoenix?

Was Eddie capable of carrying on with both of them at the same time?

No.

Well...

Maybe.

CHAPTER 9

“YOU okay?” Eddie peered at Rio but made no move to stand. He was too nervous and he didn’t want her to see him faltering. Not right now. He’d have to appear extremely collected if he hoped to stand a prayer’s chance of wiggling out of this corner.

“I’m fine.” The words slid toward him on sheets of ice. She dropped into a nearby chair, out of his reach.

How much had she heard?

“Look, Eddie...” She rested her forearms on the recliner’s cushiony sides, holding her hands in the air. “I’m sure everybody at work has warned you about me,” she said, rubbing her thumb against her fingertips.

He didn’t know what she was getting at and he wasn’t making any assumptions. He kept quiet and let her do the talking. Anything to draw the subject away from him and his telephone conversation.

“They don’t call me the
ice queen
for nothing,” she said with such pride that he almost bought the deception. Almost. But he’d caught the glimmer of hurt that’d crossed her eyes for just a millisecond. She wasn’t the untouchable, unfeeling bitch she wanted him to think she was. Or was she?

“Why don’t you just stop beating around the bush and tell me what’s on your mind.” He let his voice take on a commanding tone. If she was trying to give him the shaft, then,
let’s get the show on the road
.

“Well, last night was great and all...” A soft smile escaped on the edges of her mouth before she caught it and shoved it back down inside. “And I hope I helped in some small way.” She was rambling now, and avoiding eye contact. “But I’m a single-hitter girl. And since you and I have to work together, and you need a place to stay right now—” He should put her out of her misery and shut her up, but watching her dig herself into this hole was too much fun. “—I think we should just agree that it was a one-time thing and leave it at that.”

Part of Eddie, the side she so effortlessly coaxed out, however unconsciously, wanted to tease her. He’d bet, seventy-thirty, okay sixty-forty, she’d blush if he added something like,
so long as we don’t agree to disagree that it was some great sex
. But another inquiry had snuck into his thoughts.

How many other guys at work had she done this to? Loved them and left them? Was he just another in a long line of conquests, another notch on her lipstick case?

“You don’t have to worry, Rio.” He let professionalism cool his tone. “I’m not the committing kind.”

Whatever she was afraid of, he’d have to give her space so she could work it out. Far be it from Eddie LaCall to crowd a woman. His ego rattled laughter around his brain.

No reason to think he wouldn’t have gotten tired of her in a month anyway, just like he had with all the others. He’d keep telling himself that, until it no longer mattered that she’d been the one calling the shots.

She looked at him as if he’d slapped her across the face, but she recovered quickly and donned a liberating smile. “Good.” She nodded agreeably. “I hope I did help though.”

“You did.” He gave an inconsequential nod and then stood. “You want to get some breakfast before we go to work?”

“Ah, yeah, sure.” She pushed herself up and backed toward her bedroom. “Just give me one minute. I want to get my gun.”

“Gun?” He hadn’t seen that coming. Agents in the FVC Unit rarely carried guns unless they were on the job. Undercover.

“Yeah.” She paused in her doorway long enough to add, “I’m starting to think it’s a really good idea for me to start carrying my gun with me. All the time.”

She disappeared into her room and returned minutes later with a 9mm strapped into a shoulder harness.

Jesus. Ice Queen wasn’t quite the right nickname for her. Eddie’s thoughts tended to lean more toward the line of...Scary.

* * *

Rio guided the Corvette into a parking space inside the garage at the Federal Complex. She’d been mostly quiet during the drive, mulling over the recent turn of events in her mind and trying to figure out a way to undo the intimacy from last night.

Clearly, she and Eddie weren’t in the same book, much less on the same page. She’d acted upon the attraction and now she had to find a way to smote the residual one-sided feelings.

She killed the engine, grabbed her purse and opened the car door.
Find a way
, she coached herself. She had to find a way to get past the awkwardness enveloping them in this smothering fog.

This, Rio, is the reason you’ve always steered clear of getting involved with your coworkers
.

Lessoned learned. She took her frustrations out on the elevator’s “down” button. The doors slid open immediately and she stepped inside. Once there, the close proximity to Eddie filled her with a whole different kind of regret.

As if sensing her qualm, he hit the lobby button and moved to the other side of the lift. Either that, or he was trying to send her a message.

If she had to bet on one or the other, she’d put her money on the latter.

“When are you going to let me drive?” he asked in a playful tone as the elevator landed at the main floor.

She cut him a quick, chastising glare. Why’d he insist on teasing her like that? Did he take some sort of perverse pleasure in her humiliation?

Get a grip
! She gave herself a mental slap. “The only driver in this partnership, LaCall, is me,” she said as the elevator doors parted.

Just outside the lift they found Naomi waiting for them, or more specifically, Eddie. The girl’s icy stare slung jagged shards of hatred, first at Rio and then at Eddie.

The girl studied their faces, glancing back and forth between Rio and Eddie. Then, her knowing look stilled and her gaze lit and stayed on him. “How could you?”

“LaCall, what’s going on?” Rio was starting to regret the day he’d come to Vegas.

“Nothing to worry about.” He nudged her toward the hallway. “You go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

Her first instinct compelled her to stay put. The next goaded her to claw out Naomi’s eyes. Thirdly, after careful consideration, she gave in to the urge to trust Eddie and moved hesitantly down the corridor.

Moving through the corridor and to the inner elevators she reexamined her decision to leave Eddie outside with Naomi. Rio didn’t like the girl and she didn’t trust her, but maybe that was jealousy talking.

Oh, God...say it ain’t so
. Jealousy wasn’t pretty in any color.

The elevator landed at the third floor. Rio slipped into the hallway and covered the few paces to the FVC Unit’s entrance in a couple of steps.

She’d done a great job of working herself into a frenzy by the time she reached her desk. She yanked at the bottom drawer, tossed her purse inside and then slammed the compartment shut. Dropping into her chair, she let out a long low sigh and stared at Eddie’s empty desk.

Jealousy crept back into her head. She fought to curb the unattractive trait.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She wasn’t supposed to get all wrapped up in wanting his attention or affection.

Okay, this was starting to border on the side of ridiculous. She needed a distraction.

The poker tournament.

Hope sprang forth. That’s what she needed. A diversion. She leaned forward and tapped the mouse, waking her computer. Accessing the Internet, she paid a visit to the Golden Sunset’s website and perused it for information on the tournament’s details.

She scanned the regulations.
Ooh
…
I can buy my way in
. “Perfect,” she whispered, and closed the website.

Time to pay Dickie a visit. She stood, inched her chair back and headed downstairs. Dickie King didn’t operate the average run-of-the-mill lab. His place was more like an identity and high-tech gadgets shopping center. And Rio Laraquette was one of his most appreciative customers.

Too bad he couldn’t give her a mechanical heart. One she could program to feel the way she wanted.

Feeling a bit whimsical, she pushed the glass door open and entered Dickie’s domain. She knew, like everyone who’d been around more than five minutes, to wait at the counter. Never, ever, under any circumstances should anyone go behind the counter—unless invited.

Appealing azure eyes traveled up from the flat-panel screen on Dickie’s desk. A smile crossed his face when he saw her. “Laraquette,” he said, rising. “What brings you down to my world?”

He strolled toward the counter in a leisurely gait and shoved a small notepad inside the pocket of his lab coat.

She’d never understood why he wore the thing. It served him, a computer geek, no purpose. But classifying him that way wasn’t fair. He definitely wasn’t the proverbial example of such. His blond hair, short and well groomed, framed his face and emphasized his sky-blue eyes.

Dickie King was a handsome guy, just not Rio’s type. Still, she didn’t mind taking in the view.

She flashed him a smile, appreciating his good looks. “Dickie, I need a new identity.”

“Want to be anybody special?” he asked with an amusing glint to his tone.

She considered her options. French. English. Italian. No...

Rio straightened her shoulders and cheered on her budding pep. “I think I’d like to be from Texas.” Her enunciation filled instantly with a slow, southern twang.

“I do love a southern accent.” He pushed off the counter and headed back to his desk. “Name?” he asked, sitting back down.

“Choose one for me,” she said. “Just make sure it sounds southern. And I need a credit card with about five grand to establish my cover.”

“Two,” he countered. No matter how much the undercover detectives asked for, Dickie bartered the amounts as if the funds came from his own pocket.

“Three.” She bargained as if she thought she had a vote. “And you might have to replenish.”

“What in the world have you gotten yourself into, Laraquette?” he said in a marvelously amused tone. He looked at her, examining her face for just a little too long.

What...? Did she have that stupid glow about her? That
I’ve-just-had-my-world-rocked
look?

Okay, Rio, you’ve really got to get a hold of that
.

“Laraquette, did you get some guy in trouble?” Dickie asked in an inquiring way, like he was fishing for specifics.

She felt the reticence crawling up to her cheeks, it’d probably turn her face a noticeable shade of crimson.

Damn. Dickie was probably quizzing himself right now, trying to determine who’d gotten to her. Any idiot could figure out that one. The rumors had been traveling around ever since she’d gotten herself partnered up with the new guy.

Not good. This couldn’t be good.

If Dickie came to the correct conclusion this easily, so would everybody else.

She was doomed for weeks, maybe months, of constant mockery.

* * *

Eddie stood beside his desk, chatting with Chris Bradley about the Bellmore case. He listened to his coworker and stealthily scanned the open expanse, wondering where Rio had gone.

The sight of Blake Switzer heading their way coated Eddie’s mouth with a bad taste. He shoved his distaste to the back of his mind. If only Gabe would put someone else on Rio’s case. He didn’t trust Switzer, his ability—or lack thereof as Eddie saw it—to solve the mystery.

“Have you seen Rio?” Eddie asked, loud enough for anybody and everybody within a twenty-foot radius to hear. He hadn’t seen her since he’d come in nearly half an hour ago. Considering the recent turn of events, including sexing it up with her last night and then running into Naomi this morning, the fact that she was nowhere to be found left him agitated.

“She was here a little bit ago.” Bradley tucked his hands into the back pockets of his designer jeans.

“When she came in,” Rivera, seated a couple of desks away, spoke up, “she was pissed off.”

“She say why?” Why’d Eddie ask that? He already knew the answer.

Rivera shook his head and said nothing. Eddie looked at Bradley. The guy always had plenty to say about everything—except now. Now he chose to keep quiet. When it came to talking about Rio behind her back, apparently, calling her an ice queen was the extent of their infraction.

Okay, so sending Rio on ahead wasn’t the greatest idea but Naomi brought out the worst in Eddie. He couldn’t be nice to Naomi. She thought it meant something. After last night, he hesitated to show that side of himself to Rio.

He thought he’d left Naomi and their worn-out relationship behind when he left Phoenix. But she’d followed him to Vegas. He hadn’t expected that. He had to get rid of Naomi before she blew his cover.

“Whatever or whoever Laraquette’s mad at—” Bradley snickered. “Had better watch out.”

Switzer paused a few feet away, but Eddie made him wait before recognizing his bid for attention.

“Why are you guys so hard on her?” Even as he did it, Eddie didn’t get his need to defend her. Maybe it had something to do with last night and her altruistic bid to ease his pain.

“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it.” Bradley laughed and then frowned suspiciously. “Why are you so quick to approve?”

“Because he’s sweet on her.” Rivera threw Gabe’s words at Eddie.

“I know that,” Bradley said. “We
all
know that.”

Eddie ignored their clever remarks, right along with his self-advised recommendation to check his grin, leftover from last night.

“No...” Bradley stretched out the word, shaking his head slowly. “You didn’t?”

Eddie felt the guilt heating his face. Luckily, there wasn’t much likelihood of his bronze skin showing the red tones of guilt.

“What didn’t you do, LaCall?” Rivera pushed his way past Switzer and move closer to Eddie’s desk.

Eddie curbed his smile but it was too late.

“My boy LaCall has thawed the ice queen.” Bradley gave him a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Hey, look...” Eddie’s voice remained amazingly calm. “Don’t call her names, okay.” He could only hope his intimidation tactic hidden among the simple request worked.

“No problem.” Bradley shrugged it off, but Eddie knew he was minimizing his part in the transgression.