Rocco glanced over at the dance floor.
There was Nico.
Dancing with Anker.
Celeste was right. He wasn’t half bad. In fact, he was actually good, Rocco thought, as he stood with his hands clenched watching the man sweep Nico across the floor.
Why did she have to wear a backless dress?
He stared at Anker’s hand on her back.
It better not drift south.
Maybe he should butt in. People did that. Guys did that.
But just then the dance ended.
Good, he thought. Until he watched them walk away. Arm in arm.
He hurried after them. From the lobby, they entered the casino and, once there, sat down at a poker table.
Rocco stood some distance away, watching her. She seemed different. Not the girl who had dressed as Inigo Montoya and run through those cobblestone streets with him. Not the girl who drank GoGo squeeZ. Not the one he’d seen up on the podium.
There was a kind of artifice about her now.
He was debating whether to pull up a chair and sit between them when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He turned around to see Charles.
“I wish I’d had the opportunity to meet Beatrice and Sofia at the race. Nico’s told me a lot about them.”
Rocco smiled. “The two Tasmanian devils, you mean.”
Charles laughed. “They sound like great fun. I’m sure it’ll be nice to have a break with them. Your sister told me about your hometown. It sounds lovely.”
Rocco nodded before glancing back at the table. Nico laughed at something Anker said.
Anker was as groomed as he’d ever be. His tattoos were covered up by his tux, and his usually spiky and restless blond hair had been sleeked back. Hard to tell what gleamed brighter: that hair or those crystal and cobalt-blue eyes.
Did he have to sit so close to her? And why did he keep whispering in her ear? What was he whispering? Why couldn’t he say what he was saying out loud?
“It’s nice to have family,” Rocco heard Charles say. He listened but kept his eye on that table. “I only have my mother, but trust me, she’s family enough. She’s asked me to come and visit over the next couple of weeks, but the timing couldn’t be worse. I feel bad leaving Nico alone, especially in of all places—Vegas.”
Rocco turned to Charles. “What’s that?”
“I said I feel bad leaving Nico alone in Vegas over the next few weeks.”
“She’ll be alone?” He glanced over at Nico before he turned back to Charles. “What about her family? Are they away? Traveling? She told me they did a lot of that when she was growing up.”
“Did she?”
Rocco frowned, unsure how to interpret Charles’s expression and his tone.
“Well,” Charles said, “they’re all gone now. Dead.”
Dead?
Rocco blinked. “Oh.” He paused. “So she’ll really be all alone.”
