Rake (Wolfes of Manhattan 4)

Fuck. I’d always known he was a master of manipulation, but even I never imagined everything he was capable of.

Nieves was sitting at the bar, dressed in a green mini dress and black stilettos. Her long, dark hair and fair skin were an intoxicating combination, as was the tat on her shoulder. A scarlet rose and a skull. Like light meeting dark. I loved my sister-in-law, and she was certainly beautiful in a white picket fence kind of way. Nieves, though? Hot. As. Fuck.

“I took the liberty of ordering you a Macallan,” Nieves said in her smoky voice. “Neat, with a touch of water to release the bouquet.”

Macallan. My favorite Scotch, and what I’d drunk the last time we were together. She remembered my order in its entirety. Since then, I’d grown accustomed to Pappy Van Winkle’s fifteen-year bourbon, but Nieves had no way of knowing that.

I smiled. “On my tab, of course.”

She laughed. “Of course.”

I took a sip of the scotch. Smooth and peaty. Nice. Again, it was Derek Wolfe who taught me that just a touch of water released the fragrances and flavors tenfold.

Damn.

I owed so much to that man. That man I hated to the marrow in my bones.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked Nieves.

“A little bird told me.”

Another sip of scotch. “Oh?”

She batted her eyes. Yes, she seriously did. I wasn’t going to get an answer out of her, and I didn’t care, anyway. She had information I needed, and if I could get laid in the process? Even better.

“Did you know Rock is still here?” I asked her.

“He’s an old married man now,” she said.

“True.”

“What’s he see in that uptight attorney?” she asked.

He sees someone who isn’t you. Yeah, Nieves was hot as fuck, but she was also a manipulative little cunt. Great in the sack, though.

“Lacey’s a great woman,” I said. “Smart, too.”

“Yeah, but how is she in bed?”

I tool another sip of my scotch. “He hasn’t divulged those details to me.”

“Rock is a fucking master in bed.” Nieves sipped her dirty martini. “But even he doesn’t equal your talent.”

Nice touch. I doubted my brother had been celibate all those years in Montana, but already I knew I’d had more women. Hell, I’d had more women than most billionaire playboys in Manhattan. They didn’t call me the Wolfe of Manhattan for nothing.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said.

“Tell me,” she said. “What’s your whole family doing here in Sin City?”

“Business.”

“Not pleasure?”

“Business. But I always find time for pleasure.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“First, though”—I cleared my throat—“what are you doing here in Sin City?”

She took another sip of her drink and smirked. “I just love sin.”

Oh, she was good. And I was happy to bed her. But first, I needed some intel.

“What’s going on with you?” I asked. “Have you talked to your sister lately?”

“Leta or Ciara?”

She had another sister? News to me. “Leta, I guess.”

She shook her head. “Not since she talked to your brother in Helena.” She polished off her drink.

“Let me get you another.” I signaled the bartender. “Another dirty martini for the lady.”

“Sapphire, remember?” Nieves added with a wink. “And make that extra dirty.”

The young bartender blushed at the double entendre.

“Where are you staying?” I asked Nieves.

She touched her bottom lip coyly. “With you.”

Oh, she was good. Too good, really.

But not as good as I was.

“We’ll see about that,” I said.

The barkeep slid a fresh martini in front of her.

She gave him another wink. “Yes, we certainly will.”

I sipped my scotch slowly. Not that I was a lightweight or anything, but tonight was about getting information. It was also about a good fuck, but that was the less important part. Better to keep my faculties while I assisted Nieves in losing hers.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.

Rock.

“Excuse me,” I said to Nieves. “I have to take this. I’ll only be a minute.”

“Of course.” She puckered her red lips around an olive.

My groin tightened as I walked far enough away for privacy. “Hey,” I said into the phone.

“So Nieves is here.”

“I know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she and I are having a drink at the bar as we speak.”

Rock laughed uproariously.

“And that’s funny because…”

“Because she’s so predictable. I’m taken, and you’re not. So she’s after a new Wolfe.”

I couldn’t fault his observation, but— “Are you sure? I mean, you were involved with her in Montana when you didn’t have a pot to piss in.”

“True enough, but she’s seen the green now. Trust me. She wants a piece of whatever pie she can get.”

“And you think I’m going to give her a piece.”

“Nah. I think you’re going to take a piece, if you haven’t already.” Rock laughed again.

“I’d say you know me too well, but you really don’t,” I said. “Since we really only just met a few weeks ago.”