Chapter 37

While reclining in the hot tub on the hotel suite’s balcony, I took another lengthy swig of whiskey. In the fading sunlight, a crystal tumbler before my lips glittered. Close at hand, the bottle, half-empty, rested on the tub’s burled wooden rim. An arid desert wind, racing across the Vegas Strip, sent translucent curtains flapping around the open doors behind me.

Earlier in the day, Charles had taken his wife home.

Yet I remained stunned; had been since Mandy’s departure.

In my skull, her words continued to echo. While it hadn’t been the first time she’d uttered them, the fervor in her voice after everything we’d done kept my pulse stammering.

Right as the Jeep had slowed to turn into their hotel’s sweeping drive, she’d leaned close.

The dark-haired beauty had whispered three words.

“I. Love. You.”

Yep, with a pause between each, letting the syllables dig claws deeper into my soul.

Before I could react, Charles had come into view, wearing a wide smile. While I’d remained seated, his wife had slipped from the Jeep into his waiting arms. The business suit-clad man and I had spoken. Well, his lips had moved. Brain still mush, I’d chuckled and replied, uttering something. A blink later and they’d disappeared to pack for their return flight, leaving me alone. The after-image of that impish grin over her shoulder had kept heat flaring deep in my core.

Add in reviewing the raw footage from the hotel that Gary had sent, and I remained in a daze. Likewise, when Doug Barnes had phoned with an update on the bloodsuckers’ trail, only mumbled replies had left me. As predicted, they’d gained a vehicle and vanished; no license plate readers out that far.

All of which oozed from me amid the pounding jets. The heat was wondrous, seeping into exhausted muscles, but my mind continued to swirl. Each time I’d pushed Mandy, she’d pressed herself a little further. No doubt lingered; her feelings had strengthened. As had mine.

“And Charles?” I murmured before taking another slow sip.

He remained a puzzle. Not stupid, as his daughter had highlighted, the man must suspect something. On the phone, his wife’s tremulous voice as she’d ridden me ... not for the first time. Yet he’d shaken my hand before guiding Mandy away.

“Then again, maybe not,” I whispered to the setting sun.

After a heavy sigh, I glanced at the phone. My gaze settled once more on her simple text.

We made it home. Miss you.

Heart aching, I’d replied.

Prove it.

Yeah, it was stupid. Drunk, or fast getting there, what did I expect her to do? Well, not what she’d done, that was for sure.

My phone’s quiet ping had drawn me to her response. Every molecule of air had shot from my lungs through flapping lips.

A selfie. But not in her bathroom. Nor the garage. Or anywhere safe. Instead, with a grin, she stood in their living room. Raised dress gathered in one hand and panties tugged aside, she was displaying a still-flushed seam. Behind her, the back of her husband’s head. He was sitting on their couch, watching television.

My fingers had shaken as I typed.

Risky, slut.

A second later, her response arrived.

Very, my handsome master.

Once more, she was making a point. So, no, her husband wasn’t aware, at least not fully, or wouldn’t admit he knew. Perhaps she was trying to force his hand. Either way, she’d ended with a row of kiss emojis. Sure, the gods were again cackling, but this smiling man had sent one in return, then added a heart.

All good and well, but still left me alone and chest aching as the sun became a faint orange smear across the horizon. After another lengthy swallow of that excellent whiskey, I refilled the glass. A few more sips, and the tumbler landed on the tub’s broad rim.

With images of Mandy filling my mind, the onset of nightfall was sudden, casting darkness over the balcony. Half-asleep in the pounding jets, my aching body sank deeper as time slithered away.

A million hours later, I tensed, preparing to leave the tub. Just as my eyelashes were about to flutter open, a pair of slow, soft, clicking noises echoed over the patio tile. Chest thumping, I opened my eyes and jolted.

The chilly breeze sent platinum strands across the pallid face of a tall female figure standing on the balcony. A shoulderless, ankle-length burgundy dress draped svelte curves. Another gust sent the long slit along a leg flapping wide, baring pale, borderline translucent skin.