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Or he would be, once he found Denver.
He fucking hoped.
Chapter Twenty
Denver reared back, intending to slam the door in his face, but Marco calmly braced a hand on the wood, holding the door open. Smiling at her all the while.
“You’re not going to want to do that, love.”
Love. A word he never should have the right to utter.
He’d used that word with her so many times. She’d accepted it, rejoiced in it even, and repeated it back to him. Fully believing that this was the man she would marry and have children with.
Her fairy tale prince, come to sweep her away from a boring life of classes and schoolwork and staid family parties.
Instead he’d become her nightmare. One that couldn’t be dispelled by a flick of the lights or a warm hug to chase away her bad dreams.
“Marco.” Denver gripped the doorknob with every ounce of strength she had left.
If she hadn’t been holding on to something, she might’ve gone weak at the knees. God, she hated that he still had that effect on her even after all these years. She’d hoped time and distance would’ve erased his hold on her psyche. The way he could instill fear in her with a single look.
Yet here she was, a new woman in so many ways, and she was still on the verge of trembling. But this time, she would not break.
“You look good, Casey. This reminds me of the old days. A little lower-end now, aren’t we?” He reached out to skim his fingers over the sleeve of her gown and she struggled not to react. His scent of whisky and fancy cologne singed her throat.
But she kept her expression as composed as she could make it. Even a shudder would’ve pleased him. Anything to prove he still could influence her emotions. She’d be damned if she gave him that satisfaction.
“The days are certainly different,” she said. “I don’t have much cause to dress up this way anymore.” Great. Give him hints about her life now. She wanted to saw off her tongue.
Then again, the likelihood that he’d just stumbled upon her there in Vegas was slim. One of his old stomping grounds or not, he couldn’t be everywhere at once. Even his men didn’t have eyes and ears in every location. Too many for her comfort as it was.
So that meant either she’d somehow come onto his radar or he’d been watching her in some fashion all this time. Probably both.
“No, you don’t. Which is a shame. This lovely body was made for evening gowns and the finer things.” His dark gaze skated over her, lingering at her breasts and hips, and she tightened her grip on the knob. “He might be able to give them to you someday, but not now. Not like I could. And that little problem of his…” Marco sighed and shook his head. “You and I both know that a gambling habit is insidious. You start small, then get in deeper and deeper. You start risking the things that matter most, sometimes without even realizing it. Imagine, up for a prestigious award, and he reaches out to place a bet with the same bookies who helped make it easier for me to find you in the first place.”
She couldn’t process what he was even saying. “What do you mean? He bet on the awards? Is that…I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“This is Vegas, all sorts of games of chance exist. All manner of risks and rewards.” He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “He risked you.”
She fought not to bristle under the unwelcome touch. So much for hoping she’d somehow blipped onto his radar. He knew about her. About Ryan. God, he knew about them.
All the times she’d told herself her worry was irrational, and here Marco was. Instead of feeling vindicated at her justifiable concern, she just felt violated. Again.
Not only did he know about Ryan’s role in her life, he had information on Ryan and his gambling…whatever the hell it was. Interest? Hobby? She didn’t want to believe it was more. He’d told her it was just for fun, just something he did now and then, and she was trusting him.
Too little too fucking late there. If she’d told him the full truth about Marco and his numerous mafia ties and gambling connections, maybe Ryan wouldn’t have treated his gambling so lightly.
But that wasn’t important right now. Now she had to get herself out of this mess.
Her only defense was to act cool until she could figure out how the hell to get Marco gone. The problem was, he rarely traveled alone. She was surprised he didn’t have one or two of his thugs lurking in the hallway. Of course, he might. Maybe he’d told them to stay farther back. To lull her into a sense of safety. As if he ever could.
Not again.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice even. “You can’t believe I’d want to see you again.”
He dropped his hand from her cheek. “Invite me in, Casey, and we’ll talk.”
Her laugh surprised even her. “Not a chance. You’re lucky I’m even speaking to you at all.”
