Fit for a Sheikh Page 11

  “I need to see about Lottie,” she whispered, her voice laced with an edge of hysteria, even though she tried desperately to hang on to her calm.

  “In a moment.” Darin moved back into the living room and muttered, “Stay close to me.”

  Fiona had no problem doing that since he had the gun and all she had was a belly full of butterflies and a feeling she might be sick, especially if they found Lottie— No. She had to believe her dog was safe. Had to believe she’d hidden or run away.

  Scorpio checked the living-room closet and behind the furniture with agonizing slowness while Fiona’s pulse pounded in her ears as he headed toward the closed kitchen door. He flattened against the wall, Fiona by his side still firmly in his grasp.

  She held her breath as he opened the pocket door slowly where more chaos resided, her dinette chairs overturned, as well as the small table. The sliding glass doors opening up to the complex’s courtyard had been shattered. And on the other side, Lottie sat on the porch among the debris, her paws crossed and her head cocked to one side. When she saw Fiona and Scorpio, she stood with her corkscrew tail wagging, something black hanging from her jowls.

  “You’re okay!” Fiona wrenched away from Scorpio and knelt to welcome Lottie into her arms, disregarding the shards of glass and the fact that Birkenfeld might be hiding in the nearby hedge.

  “You are out in the open,” Scorpio said from above her. “It is not safe.”

  She didn’t care; her only concern at the moment was for her dog. She remained crouched to conduct a spot check over Lottie’s coarse fur, finding nothing that would indicate she’d been injured.

  As Fiona straightened, Lottie dropped the piece of fabric at her feet. She bent over, picked up the scrap and examined it. “It’s the back pocket of a man’s pants. Lottie must’ve torn it from Birkenfeld.” She patted the dog’s head and grinned. “Good girl, Carlotta. Smart girl, biting him in the butt.” She faced Scorpio and handed him the pocket.

  “Come back inside,” he said.

  Fiona followed behind him, patting Lottie on the head now and then as they made their way back into the living room, the only room that had been saved from destruction, or so it appeared. Then Fiona noticed the end table where the portrait of her mom and dad had been torn out of the frame, a slash across her mother’s face.

  “Sick bastard!” Fiona shouted. “I could kill him for this.”

  “And so could I,” Scorpio muttered, venom in his tone. He picked up a small card lying next to the shattered frame.

  Fiona clutched the picture to her chest and asked, “What is that?”

  He studied it for a few moments then turned it over. “A hotel business card for a place called the Lost Springs Mine.”

  “The latest and greatest resort on the Strip. It’s huge, or so I’ve been told. I’ve never been there. I hear it’s home to lots of big spenders. A good place to—” her gaze snapped from the card to his eyes “—a good place to hide in plain sight.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, he should be featured on Stupid Crook Tricks considering he just left one whopper of a clue.”

  “Perhaps that was his intention.”

  “You mean like setting a trap?”

  “Possibly. He wants revenge.”

  “And I’m guilty by association.”

  Scorpio studied her with dark, soulful eyes. “And I will never forgive myself for involving you in this.”

  Fiona shrugged. “Well, I said I wanted some adventure, didn’t I?”

  “At the expense of your life?”

  “I know you won’t let him hurt me.”

  “No. I will die first.”

  She swallowed around the boulder in her throat, unable to fathom why this man, this dark knight, would put his own life on the line for her, Fiona the bartender. He possessed more honor and courage than anyone she had ever met, male or female. And for that reason alone he would be so very easy to love.

  While Fiona stood speechless, Scorpio tucked the card in his pants pocket, reholstered his gun and withdrew his cell phone.

  “Thank God you’re calling the police,” she said.

  “Not the police.”

  Fiona braced her hands on her hips. “Why not?”

  Darin did not offer an explanation, not until he obtained the information he needed. After Kent answered, he said, “The hotel in which you resided while you were here last month with Stephanie, what was the name?”

  “Lost Springs.”

  “And the hotel where the woman was beaten?”

  “Same place. What the hell’s going on there?”

  He should tell Kent about the break-in, but if he did, his friend would have the place swarming with agents in a matter of moments. If Birkenfeld was still about, he would run. As it now stood, Darin suspected that the doctor saw this as some sort of sordid game. Eventually he would make the wrong move, and Darin would be there when that happened. “Call the hotel and make a reservation.”

  “Do you have a lead?”

  “Only a hunch.”

  “He’d be a fool to go back there. The Feds have been checking it out, and hotel security has been put on notice. No one’s seen him.”

  “True, and one would assume he would not return. Birkenfeld would recognize that.”

  “Then you’re saying he’s banking on no one believing he’ll show up there again?”

  “It’s possible. I will conduct my own search.”

  “Okay, I’ll call the hotel and reserve you a room.”

  A long silence ensued as if Kent wanted to say more about Darin’s insistence on working alone. A few hours ago he would have gone to the hotel without company. But now Fiona was in serious danger. She couldn’t remain at the apartment, and if she stayed with friends, that would mean putting more people in peril and leaving her an open target. Unless she accompanied him, Darin would not be able to protect her. And he had to protect her. He would not fail again.

  “I’ll call you after we arrive.” He snapped off the phone before Kent could question him over his intimation that he wouldn’t be by himself after all.

  Darin turned to find Fiona staring at him, surprise etched in her expression. “We?”

  “You are coming with me.”

  Who would have thought it?

  Not Fiona. Little more than an hour ago, she’d believed she was saying goodbye to Scorpio for good. Instead she had packed a bag, sent a ticked-off Lottie to the kennel, and now they were sitting in front of the expansive five-star Lost Springs Mine Resort and Casino in the white rental sedan, sandwiched between two black limousines like the filling in a car cookie.

  Scorpio was opening the trunk for a uniformed bellman to unload their luggage, which seemed totally unnecessary, since Scorpio had only the duffel and she had only a lone suitcase stuffed with enough clothing to get her by for three days, tops. Hopefully they would catch Birkenfeld before she ran out of undies although she supposed she could hand wash. She’d packed mostly jeans and T-shirts but had remembered to include the black leather skirt that seemed to have captured Scorpio’s fancy the night before. And there was the matter of that little black nightie she’d never worn and the condoms she’d stuck in her toiletry case.

  If a girl was going to be sequestered in a hotel room with a handsome hunk bent on coming to her rescue, she might as well be prepared for anything. According to Scorpio, she wasn’t going to be allowed to leave the room while he searched for Birkenfeld. If luck prevailed, she would convince him otherwise. They were in this together. Even if she couldn’t get her hands on Birkenfeld’s neck, she could at least give him a good tongue lashing after he was caught. And if she happened to get close enough, she could give him two solid kicks in the groin—one for destroying her apartment and another for scaring her to death. Now she understood all too well the concept of feeling totally violated. She doubted she’d ever be able to live in the apartment again, even with the demented doctor behind bars.

  Fiona slid out of the car an
d handed over her keys to the parking attendant after Scorpio insisted. She guessed his expense account allowed for such extravagances as valet parking and bellmen, although she wasn’t sure that the Texas taxpayers would be too happy about it, if in fact he was a Texas cop, something he still hadn’t confirmed. But she did know that he was one of the good guys, and that was all that mattered.

  They entered the lobby, hand in hand, Scorpio assuming his usual on-guard persona, cap tipped low on his forehead as he visually studied the massive area that looked like something straight out of the turn of the century, all gold accents and red-carpeted floor with elaborate chandeliers and ornately carved furniture, right down to the cherrywood registration desk with the antique mirror hanging behind it.

  Fiona genuinely doubted Birkenfeld would be standing by, ready to greet them with his nasty knife, considering all the people milling around. But he could be lurking somewhere, that much she knew, so she turned her back to the desk while Scorpio registered, keeping watch for anyone who might resemble the criminal.

  “Your luggage will be delivered shortly, Mr. Scorpio,” the desk clerk said in a very solicitous voice. “Please let me know if we can further assist you.”

  “We would prefer not to be disturbed after our luggage arrives.”

  Fiona turned to catch the desk clerk tugging at his old-time bow tie, his grin aimed at her. “I certainly understand. Just place the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and trip the privacy lock.”

  Here they were, in a high-dollar haven, and Fiona felt as if she were standing in a cheap motel, checking in as Mr. and Mrs. Anonymous to carry out an illicit affair. Ridiculous considering that unmarried people went to hotels all the time. She just hadn’t been among them. Still, she found it darned exciting, especially the part about Scorpio not wanting to be disturbed. Yet she wouldn’t allow herself to hope until she had him naked in bed. Until she had him in her arms, escaping all the ugliness and havoc wreaked on her world earlier that day.

  After Scorpio obtained the room key, he took Fiona by the elbow and guided her across the lobby to the elevator.

  Elevators. Fiona despised them. She’d spent most of her life avoiding them. They were too confining. Too frightening.

  When the doors opened, her breath caught hard in her chest as panic set in. Scorpio entered the deserted car and held back the insistent doors for her to enter. “What are you waiting for?” he asked.

  “I want to take the stairs,” she said on a broken breath.

  “We are staying on the twentieth floor.”

  She took a step back as if the mechanical monster was going to swallow her up. “I’ll meet you at the room.”

  “You will not take the stairs unless I accompany you.”

  “You can’t walk all that way on your bad foot.”

  “Precisely.” A look of understanding passed over his face as he held out his hand. “The wall behind me is glass. You can see out. You will be safe with me.”

  The gentleness of his tone, her trust in him, sent her forward to take his hand and step into an elevator for the first time in years. Once inside, he turned her toward the glass and held her against him as the doors sighed closed and the car began to climb. “The hotel is very nice. Perhaps not as nice as the Plaza Athenee in Paris.”

  “You’ve been to Paris?” she asked in an unsettled voice.

  “Yes. Several times.”

  She kept her focus on Scorpio’s strong arms holding her close, not the whine of the elevator or the confinement she felt despite the transparent wall revealing the lobby growing smaller and smaller as they climbed higher and higher. “I haven’t been out of the continental United States. I don’t like airplanes.”

  He brushed a kiss over her cheek. “You are missing out on many adventures.”

  “I know. Maybe someday.”

  “We haven’t had lunch. Are you hungry?”

  She looked back and attempted a smile. “Maybe we could have a picnic in bed.”

  She half expected him to protest, to spout off about the mission. Instead, he simply returned her smile. “That could be very interesting.”

  “I’m sure it would be.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers—and the elevator chose that moment to stop and open, just when Fiona was beginning to relax and be ready for more of the good stuff.

  Scorpio glanced over his shoulder at the open doors. “We have arrived.”

  “Looks like it.” Fiona wondered if a time would come when they wouldn’t have any interruptions, although she was more than happy to be off the elevator.

  Again Scorpio took her by the hand and led her to the room. He slipped the card key into the lock and opened the door to the most massive, elegant suite Fiona had ever seen. A huge red-and-gold velvet-adorned room with windows that spanned the length of it, revealing the Vegas skyline. An opulent place that was beyond Fiona’s wildest imaginings. But after she stepped inside, the door clicked behind her and she didn’t have the opportunity to gawk when Scorpio pulled her around, back into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, completely, wonderfully.

  He lifted her up and brought her legs around his waist, then walked into the room, backed up against the sofa and collapsed, bringing her into his lap.

  Fiona laughed then, releasing the joy mixed with relief she felt so deeply in her soul. But her laughter died when she looked into his eyes and she saw desire there, so pure and hot and all for her.

  “I should not want you this much,” he said in a rough growl. “I should be concentrating on catching this criminal. But I cannot do that until I finish this.”

  She pulled off his cap and pushed his hair from his forehead, thankfully finding it cool to the touch, contrasting with the heat in his eyes. “I want you, too. But are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I am feverish, but I do not have a temperature.”

  He tugged her T-shirt from her jeans and pulled it over her head, then unfastened and slipped her bra away. “I want to feel you in my mouth.”

  He’d no sooner said it than he did it, drawing her nipple between his warm lips, suckling with a steady pull that had her squirming from the heady sensations.

  He grasped her hips and pressed down where she could experience his own desperate need, hardness and strength and power nestled between her thighs. She wanted all the barriers stripped away, wanted him inside her. Now.

  Breaking the kiss, he set her aside on the sofa, then went to his knees before her. He effortlessly worked the fly on her jeans then pulled them down her legs in a rush. He took his time removing her blue panties, almost agonizingly so.

  She considered asking again if he was feeling up to this and almost laughed at the absurdity of that notion as he slid his hands up her legs, parting them. Apparently making a place for him as he reached for his fly.

  A loud rap came at the door, followed by a friendly voice announcing, “Luggage, Mr. Scorpio.”

  Scorpio muttered something unrecognizable as he stood, but Fiona didn’t think he was telling the bellman to come in and join the party.

  Fiona vaulted from the sofa, snatched her clothes and headed toward the door leading to what she presumed to be the bedroom.

  When another knock sounded, louder this time, she turned to find Scorpio had yet to move. Instead, he stood in front of the sofa, his hands laced at his nape while he stared at the ceiling.

  She clutched her clothes to her chest and said, “Are you going to get it?”

  He dropped his hands and sent her a wicked smile. “I very much intend to, as soon as our unwelcome guest leaves.”

  Fiona felt the rise of a hot blush from her neck to her cheeks. “You should thank him. If he hadn’t interrupted, we would’ve had to stop until he arrived with our luggage.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Condoms, Scorpio. They’re in my suitcase.”

  He fished through his pocket and pulled out two foil packages. “Not as colorful as the others, but still as effective.”

  Fiona’
s eyes went wide. “Where did you get those?”

  “A gift from your friend, Peg.”

  “Then we didn’t have to wait—”

  “Until the luggage arrived? No.”

  Fiona could not believe the continued bad timing. “Get the door and then get thee to the bed.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  “And, Scorpio.”

  “Yes.”

  “Give the bellman a tip. Tell him the next time he’s heading to our room, he better call first. Otherwise, I might deck him.”

  Scorpio laughed, a low sexy rumble that made her want to tell the intruder to go away so she could climb all over Scorpio where he now stood. “I’m certain you would make good on that promise.”

  She would make good on another promise to herself, too. She would remember that this little daytime diversion was just that—a diversion. She would not fall in love with him. Nope. No way. Never.

  Then why did every beat of her heart tell her she should get out now, before it was too late?

  Seven

  Scorpio threw open the door, not bothering to hide his frustration or his extremely aroused state, something he could not very well disguise. Luckily the gentleman seemed oblivious to what he’d interrupted as he put the luggage inside the room, chatting incessantly about the hotel amenities and the in-room bar, complimentary of course considering they were residing in the governor’s suite.

  By the time the man completed his commentary and stood at the door, awaiting his reward, Scorpio almost told him of Fiona’s threat. Instead, he handed the man a fifty-dollar bill and a look that said he was finished with all the pleasantries.

  The man took the hint and left immediately. After the door closed, Scorpio tripped the security lock and cursed his powerlessness.

  He should not be doing this, but he had no will to stop. Even his residual weakness from the fever could not stop him. His need for Fiona was so great that he stripped away his clothes on the way to the bedroom, taking with him only the condoms and the king of all erections.