“NOBODY CONS King Bobby!” King Bobby Boyd bellowed into his cell phone, yelling at one of the men who worked for him in Texas. He had enough connections in the underworld to do his dirty work, but there was a lady involved and King Bobby didn’t like to hurt the fairer sex. For now, he’d just use those connections to get himself some answers. Now, if she didn’t cooperate, then he’d have to come up with another way to convince her. And that would be a pity.
But for now he’d take things slow. “Listen to the information I got and write it down. Got a pad and pen?”
He waited for the yahoo on the phone to get something to write with and puffed on his cigar.
“Calm yourself down or you’ll have another heart attack,” Emmy Lou said from the bed. “It’s bad enough the doctor told you to cut out cigars and you don’t listen—”
“You ready now, you redneck simpleton?” Bobby ignored his wife’s yammering, waiting for the man on the other end to return to the phone. “Good. Listen up. Blond hair. Curly. Pretty gal. First name’s Amber. Used to work as a concierge at one of the bigger hotels in Beverly Hills. Start with that and see what you can turn up.” He flipped his cell phone closed and took another puff.
“I really don’t think Amber had anything to do with you losing,” Emmy Lou said. “She seemed like a nice girl, not the kind who’d distract men so her partner man could fleece a table.” She shifted the V-neck top to even out her ample bosom.
“Maybe not, but she’s the only lead I got. You can’t con a con and that weasel she was with stunk to high hell. I knew he was no good.”
“You mean he outconned the King and you don’t like it.”
“Damn straight. And then he ran away fast like the pansy-ass I pegged him for. Didn’t give me a fair shot to win my money back.” Take it back was more like it.
King Bobby had been counting cards since he was a kid on his father’s knee and the only way he’d get beat was by another con.
“You don’t need the money. You’re the richest man in all of King’s County,” Emmy Lou cooed at him.
“It’s a matter of pride, woman! I’m gonna get me my money back and that little lady named Amber’s my key.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MIKE DROVE to his father’s place, lost in thought, and Amber didn’t intrude. She wanted him to think about everything she’d told him, but most important she wanted him to realize what it meant that she’d returned. Let him remember how special their wedding night had been and what awaited him if he agreed to give her a second chance again.
Besides, she wasn’t going anywhere. First, she couldn’t return to Vegas until King Bobby was gone and no longer looking for her. And to know that, she needed to track down Marshall. Amber couldn’t shake the memory of Caroline’s comment about King Bobby being “connected.” She couldn’t grow up in Vegas, hanging around the men her father ran with, and now know about the darker side of a gambler’s life. And she couldn’t risk the chance King Bobby had just been bluffing. She’d have to stay hidden.
But there was more to her being in Boston than simply her fear of King Bobby. She wanted to stay with Mike and convince him she wasn’t the kind of person he now thought she was. He needed to accept that his first impression, the gut feeling that allowed him to bond with her in the first place, was the correct one.
She wanted to get to know her husband. She hadn’t been able to put him out of her mind and not just because she had betrayed him and owed him, both an explanation and money. He was as sexy as she remembered, with a day’s worth of razor stubble and the sport jacket he’d worn to court giving him an edgy appeal. But gone were the easy smiles and relaxed aura he wore in Vegas. In their place was a wary man who’d been betrayed.
She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and glanced out the window. The cityscape had long ago been replaced by green grass, trees and open fields, so different from the dry desert of Nevada or the smog of L.A.
She could get used to the fresh new scenery. She definitely liked Boston, at least what she’d seen of it, and starting tomorrow, she’d explore more. It might be a great place to start over. And with luck, she could find a job at one of the big hotels here.
Her grandparents had passed away a few years ago and all she had left of family was her father. She could move him out here, too, so she could spend whatever time he had left with him without Marshall nearby to cause trouble. And she could know, for sure, if this marriage had any possibility of lasting. Not just because she wanted Mike to see she was a good person, but because she needed closure for herself.
She wasn’t a quitter. She’d entered into this marriage; she was going to do her best to make it work out.
Based on the hard expression on Mike’s face and the set of his jaw, Amber knew she was getting way ahead of herself, but
that’s how she operated in life. Gung ho and full steam ahead, using her charm and photographic memory to their best advantage. That’s how she’d carved out a job as one of the best concierges in Beverly Hills.
Brad Pitt himself had requested her services, as did the rest of his pals. The only drawback to her life in L.A. was the fact that she couldn’t get her father on her health insurance plan. It had been the only thing that had drawn her back to Vegas and into Sam’s world of underground high-stakes poker.
But it had also inadvertently led her to Mike Corwin. The man was real. Her day with Mike had shown her what had been missing from her life in Beverly Hills. It wasn’t just that she’d been too busy for a social life of her own. Her job had consumed her and at the time, that had been fine with her. But the fear of losing her father, combined with her un-forgettable day—and night—with Mike had shown her that she needed someone to come home to at night. Someone to talk to. Someone who could make her feel as alive as Mike had in the twenty-four hours she’d spent with him.
She just wanted a chance to see if he was the one she was meant for. And she intended to get that chance in the same way she did everything else in her life.
She’d earn it.
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked, breaking the long silence.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You sighed.”