He wasn’t finished with her yet.
MICHAEL CORWIN watched the dirtbag walk away, making sure the other man left the casino before turning his gaze toward the beautiful woman he couldn’t help but rescue.
“Are you really okay?” he asked.
She cocked her head to one side. A cascade of blond curls fell over her shoulder as she glanced at him. “I’ll live,” she said wryly. “I could have handled Marshall myself. But thank you for stepping in.” Appreciation and what looked like admiration glittered in her clear blue eyes.
As a detective, it was in his nature to be protective, but as a man he’d been drawn to the alluring woman who’d obviously needed his help. “You’re welcome.”
She studied him intently. “You aren’t a Las Vegas cop, are you?”
He raised an eyebrow at her astute observation. “Boston, Massachusetts. What makes you ask?”
“The accent clearly says you aren’t a local. Marshall would have realized it himself if he’d been composed enough to breathe.” She extended her hand. “I’m Amber. Pleased to meet you.”
“Mike Corwin.” He shook her hand and felt the jolt all the way through his body, settling right in his groin. Unexpected, but not unwanted, he thought. “Do you have a last name, Amber?”
“It’s Rose. Amber Rose.”
He raised an eyebrow at the exotic-sounding name. Added to the short black cocktail dress that draped her slender body, revealing ample cleavage for such a slight woman, he had to admit she made for an enticing package. One he couldn’t ignore if he’d wanted to.
He didn’t.
“I know it’s an unusual name,” she added.
“Actually, I was going to say it sounds like it belongs to a Vegas showgirl. No insult intended.”
Her porcelain skin flushed beneath the tacky casino lighting. She grinned, showing off one dimple in her cheek. “You’re half-right. Rose was my mother’s maiden name. Celia Rose. She was a showgirl.”
“She’s retired?”
A shadow passed over her eyes. “She died when I was born. So, what brings you to Vegas?” she asked, changing the subject as she looked down and noticed their still-intertwined hands.
He’d been holding on, drawing lazy circles around her wrist with his thumb, enjoying the connection that felt so right, so fast. Obviously she didn’t want to discuss her mother and he let the subject go. “I’m here for a wedding.”
“Yours?” She jerked her hand back, a horrified expression on her face.
“Hell, no, not my wedding. Do I look like the kind of guy who’d hit on a woman if I was getting married?” he asked, quickly setting things right. “It’s my partner’s.”
“Oh.” She exhaled hard. “So you are hitting on me?” she asked, sounding extremely pleased at the notion.
“Most definitely.” He stepped closer. Despite the acrid smell of cigarette smoke in the air, he caught a whiff of her floral scent and grew immediately more aroused. “I’m not married or involved,” he said, further reassuring her.
Her lips turned upward in a smile.
Any normal, red-blooded man would be attracted to her. Mike had worked so many hours lately, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid. He didn’t normally go around picking up the women he rescued, but Amber was different. Sexual attraction wasn’t her only appeal. She was intelligent and obviously had morals—she’d made it clear she wouldn’t have been interested in him if he’d been someone else’s husband.
He was here enjoying a long weekend before he had to be back in court early Monday morning to testify in a case he’d closed last year. He’d planned to have fun, unwind and celebrate with his friends. This woman was an unexpected bonus and he realized he wanted to do all of the above with her by his side.
He wasn’t normally so impulsive, but what the hell? Where else but Las Vegas could a man indulge and not feel guilty? If the desire was mutual.
“So.” She ran her tongue over her glossed lips. “What are you going to do now that you’ve hit on me?” she asked in a husky voice.
“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he said, gauging her interest.
Her smile widened and his gut churned with desire the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wrapped his hand around hers and once again the connection sizzled between them. Touching her like this made him feel as if he’d known her for longer than a few minutes. Without a doubt, he needed more time.
“So, are there any more Marshalls I should know about?” he asked.