Lucky Streak

CHAPTER ONE

AMBER ROSE WANTED out of the con-artist life. Counting cards in Vegas high-stakes poker games was not the way she wanted to live-even if it did bring in money she desperately needed to pay for her Alzheimer’s-stricken father’s medical bills and keep him in a top-notch nursing home. But now she’d saved enough to find another way. She glanced around the crowded, smoke-filled casino, where she’d arranged to meet Marshall Banks, her soon-to-be ex-partner. The Bellagio was his favorite hotel on the Strip and she hoped the atmosphere would put him in a good mood for when she delivered the news.

Amber glanced at her watch. Though it felt like hours, only five minutes had passed since she’d arrived. Relax, she ordered herself, when she finally caught sight of Marshall across the room.

She couldn’t help but notice many appreciative female eyes followed him as he cut through the crowd. With his black slacks and colorful striped dress shirt, and dark, slicked-back hair, he epitomized Vegas glitz and studly Andy Garcia-like appeal. Women had always been drawn to Marshall. As a young, impressionable teenager, Amber had been one of them. How could she not have a crush on her father’s top protégé?

Sam Brenner had been a gambler extroaordinaire, a man Amber had been in awe of. He was everything Vegas-big and large, dynamic and exciting. He’d adored his daughter and he’d seen to it she had everything she’d ever needed. Since he was often traveling the gambling circuit, leaving Amber with his parents, she’d extended her awe and love to her dashing father to her hometown, Vegas. She reveled in the glitz and glamour that emanated from it in waves.

The shine had long since come off Marshall, though, and these days she saw her soon-to-be ex-partner for the man he really was. A middle-aged con who made his living by gambling and cheating, simply because he could. Amber’s reasons for getting into the life had been less self-serving, yet she couldn’t deny they shared a mutual investment in their partnership.

“Hey, beautiful.” Marshall stepped up beside her and pressed a cool kiss to her cheek. “How are you this morning?” he asked, interrupting her introspection.

“I’m just fine.” She pressed her fingers together to keep from fidgeting or tipping her hand before she was ready.

“Can I get you a drink?” Marshall asked.

She frowned at his question. “Isn’t noon a little early for cocktails?”

“Come on, babe, relax. It’s Friday. The start of the weekend.” He flagged down a waitress. “Johnnie Walker Black for me. And a chardonnay for the lady.”

Chardonnay was Amber’s drink of choice when she and Marshall were acting the part of gambler and his bimbo. Amber didn’t want anything to do with the charade now.

She waved her hand in the air. “Nothing for me.”

With a nod, the cocktail waitress turned and walked away.

Marshall immediately cocked his head to one side. “Something wrong?” he asked Amber.

She shook her head. “No, it’s just that it’s awfully early in the day.” Even for a Friday.

He pinned her with his astute stare. “What’s your problem? You usually don’t give a damn what I drink or when as long as we have a gig planned that’ll bring in some cash. And I already told you we’re set for tomorrow night. Relax.” He reached out a hand to smooth her long curls.

She forced herself to release a calming breath. He was right. She’d never questioned him about his drinking before. From the moment she’d asked him to join her in her mission to raise big money by revisiting the tricks her father had taught her in her youth, she’d always let him do his own thing. Amber didn’t want him drinking now because the more alcohol he downed, the more volatile he could become when he heard her news.

She might as well get it over with. “About tomorrow’s game.” Amber clenched and unclenched her fists. Her palms were damp and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her dark dress.

His wary gaze turned his irises coal-black, but Amber wasn’t afraid. He usually possessed enough charm to cover his explosive temper. Usually.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again.

“I won’t be there.”

“That’s a bad joke.” He frowned, the scowl marring his features. “You know I can’t win without that photographic memory of yours. What could be more important than the game?”

How to explain honesty, morality and guilt to a man who didn’t worry about those things? Amber bit the inside of her cheek, wondering how to phrase things so he’d understand.

She met Marshall’s unnerving gaze. “I’m not coming tomorrow because I’m finished with card counting. With this life.”

She’d always loved the highs and challenges that high-stakes gambling offered, but she also needed to like the person she viewed in the mirror each morning. And she had, until she was forced to leave the career she loved to look after her father. As a concierge in Beverly Hills, Amber had had a legitimate job that offered her enough challenge to satisfy her reckless streak. She’d found the best in life and she wanted it back. And since she’d saved enough money to take time and find another way to pay for her father’s care, she intended to do just that.

“Finished? Come on, baby. Be real.” Marshall laughed from deep in his chest as his eyes wandered over her. “Like I just said, we’re a team, you and I.”

“Not anymore.” At twenty-four years old, she’d learned that she preferred to come by her excitement honestly.

“Oh, really?” He folded his arms across his chest, his body language telling her he wasn’t buying one word. “Where else are you going to get the tax-free cash to pay for that fancy place your old man is in?” He leaned in closer as he spoke.

The suddenly too-strong scent of his distinctive cologne assaulted her senses and she pulled back. “That’s my problem, not yours. I’m just telling you our days as partners are over. I’m out.”

“The hell you are.” He grabbed her arm tight.

She shook him off and shot him a deadly look. “Do not touch me like that again. Ever.” She rubbed her sore arm. “I’ve made my decision and nothing you say…or do is going to change my mind.”

“Sorry, babe. I have too much riding on tomorrow night to indulge you,” he said through gritted teeth. He took a step toward her, clearly intending to scare her into changing her mind.

No sooner had he wrapped his hand around her forearm again than someone stepped beside them. “Is something wrong here?”

Amber jerked toward the sound of the sexy male voice and was literally blown away. Good-looking was too mild a word to describe the dark-haired stranger whose gaze bore into hers with genuine concern.

“Everything’s fine.” Amber didn’t want this man to get into an argument with Marshall, who seemed primed for a fight. As long as they were in public, her ex-partner wouldn’t do more than make a show of manhandling her.

“Doesn’t look fine to me.” The stranger deliberately stared at Marshall’s hand on her arm.

Amber would have shoved Marshall away, but she knew she’d only set him off and cause more trouble for the stranger who seemed determined to play white knight.

“I don’t see what business it is of yours,” Marshall said, all bluster and machismo.

“I’m making it my business.” Her rescuer shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, flashing a badge. “I heard the lady ask you to keep your hands to yourself. So either you’re deaf or just plain stupid. Care to tell me which?” He shoved the small leather billfold back into his pocket just as fast.

Marshall immediately released his grip on Amber’s arm. “Hey, no harm,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as he took a step back.

“Really?” The other man squared his shoulders, which seemed to grow broader beneath his navy T-shirt. “Why don’t we ask the lady if that’s true. Did he hurt you?” His caring voice softened as he spoke to her, wrapping around her like a warm caress.

She met his gaze. “I’m fine now.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything that might incite more trouble between the men.

Marshall nodded in agreement. “See? Just a lover’s quarrel. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Nothing could be further from the truth. Her goal had been to extricate herself from Marshall. She wasn’t about to let him pull her back in. Or lead her sexy savior to the wrong conclusion about them.

She shook her head. “Actually we are…I mean, we were business partners. But we aren’t anymore,” she said.

The stranger’s blue eyes narrowed. “Then I guess there’s nothing left to discuss, is there?” he pointedly asked Marshall, dismissing him.

Marshall shifted on his feet.

Amber knew no one could make him leave if he wanted to stay, but the stranger had flashed a badge.

So Marshall turned away, but not before sending Amber a warning glance.

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.

She said he’d been her business partner. Past tense. And he believed her.

She shook her head. “Lucky for both of us, I’m unattached.” Her grin expressed unmistakable interest. In him.

“Corwin, we’re heading to the Hard Rock. Are you coming?”

At the sound of his partner’s voice, Mike turned. “Be right there.” He refocused on Amber. “That’s my partner and some other cops from back home.”

She glanced at the men and women who stood waiting for him. “You should go,” she said. But she didn’t sound like she meant it.

He wasn’t willing to leave her, either. “Come with us. We’re celebrating. Sort of a traveling wedding party. It’ll be fun.” He paused. “Unless you have something else planned?”

“Nope, no other plans,” she quipped. But she cast a wary eye between Mike and his group of friends.

“There are women in the group,” he said, guessing at her hesitancy to walk off alone with them. “Some of them are even cops, too.”

“Well, then, I couldn’t get better escorts,” Amber said, laughing.

He nudged her with his elbow in case she needed more convincing. “Come on. Get away from your life for a little while.”

Amber smiled. He didn’t realize how tempting his offer actually was. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Marshall’s sleazy best friend, J.R., lingering by the bar.

Watching her.

She’d known Marshall wouldn’t give up so easily. Putting J.R. on her tail ensured he could find her-and get her to change her mind later. So, disappearing from this casino sounded like a good idea to Amber right now. Doing it in the middle of a group of cops was even better. And spending time with her sexy savior was like a cherry on top of an already overly frosted cake.

“Besides, how can I continue to hit on you if you don’t come along?” he asked, his breath warm against her cheek, his musky cologne making her weak in the knees.

He had the most potent effect on her and she couldn’t resist his rationale or his charm. Given her circumstances, a new man in her life was the last thing she needed, but the pounding excitement in her veins told her this couldn’t be wrong.

“Lead the way,” she said, hooking her arm in his.

A surprised but pleased look in his eye, Mike led her over to his friends. He introduced her to his partner, Dan Sullivan, and his new wife, Natalie, whose wedding last night they were currently celebrating. Mike ticked off half a dozen more names and Amber took a mental photograph of each.

People, places, names and numbers were her specialty, making her not just good at her former job as a concierge, but one of the best. She wasn’t overly modest, she just understood that her photographic memory was an asset in the service industry. Charisma was another and she’d inherited hers from her father.

The expected stab of pain settled in her chest as she recalled the vibrant charmer Sam Brenner had been, compared to the often vacant shell he’d become once his illness had progressed. Amber didn’t share her father’s last name because he’d wanted to protect her from his con-artist lifestyle. Since taking her mother’s maiden name had helped memorialize a woman Amber would never know, she’d always been honored to have it. And it had certainly made her father happy. At least until his illness had taken hold.

She and her father had always been close, which was why she’d decided to leave her grandparents behind and go on the road with Sam while he did his cons. She’d gotten her GED in place of traditional high school diploma, and talked the head concierge of the Crown Chandler Hotels in Vegas into taking her on as her assistant and teach her the ropes at the age of eighteen. Amber had traveled the country, viewing all the hotels in the chain and ultimately earning the head job in Beverly Hills at the unheard-of age of twenty-one.

She’d remained there for three years, until six months ago, when Amber had moved back from L.A. to her father’s Vegas apartment in order to care for him. She’d taken a job as a cocktail waitress at the bar of an old friend’s, who’d promised her time off if her father had an emergency. That was something she couldn’t count on even if she transferred to a Vegas hotel. Yet after only three months of living with her father, she’d had to step up her plan to find him a decent nursing home. The day she’d come home from work to find Sam had wandered off was the day she knew things had to change.

The first few facilities she’d viewed, homes she could have afforded on a concierge’s salary, had been seedy dumps she wouldn’t even consider leaving her father in. Old buildings run by people who clearly weren’t compensated enough to handle elderly-patient care; the smells and sights had left Amber close to tears. She knew then she had no choice but to find a way to raise big money quickly, and often, so she could afford a higher standard of living for her father in a privately owned facility.

That night she’d gone in search of Marshall. Within a few days, he’d found them their first game and she’d taken home enough cash to ensure her father was looked after properly.

Shaking off the memory, she refocused on Mike and his friends. Mike had wrapped his arm around her shoulders for each introduction and everyone she met took his body language as a cue to welcome her into their group warmly and without question.

Before they took off for the next hotel, they loaded up on drinks. Someone handed Amber a Bloody Mary, which she discreetly switched for her own choice, Grey Goose Orange, club soda and a slice of orange. If she was going to indulge, at least she’d enjoy it.

Mike took her hand and they made their way out of the casino and into the muggy Vegas streets. Her Vegas, the place she’d grown up knowing and loving. The glittering lights, the excitement, the constant exhilaration. A rush of adrenaline flowed through her as she walked the streets of her city with a man who excited her just as much.

She wasn’t involved with anyone and hadn’t been for a long time. She felt as though she’d been waiting. For him. And she found herself wishing their time together never had to end.

She wasn’t going to let anything kill her sudden sense of joy.

Not even her gut instinct that Marshall and his pal J.R. weren’t far behind.

AS THE DAY WORE ON, the drinks flowed as freely as Amber’s laughter and her easy touch-her hand on Mike’s arm, his back, it didn’t matter. She obviously felt comfortable being demonstrative, and during the long, playful day he spent with her, she kept him in a constant state of arousal. She seemed happy to remain with him and he was having too much fun to question why or ask what she’d normally be doing.

His friends didn’t have a set agenda, they only wanted to party and Amber was happy to be their tour guide. They visited the premier hotels, viewing them from the unique perspective of someone who’d grown up there. Along the way, they stopped in each of the bars and casinos along the Strip, including one owned by Amber’s friend Paul, where Amber said she worked part-time.

Mike lost count of the amount of beer he’d consumed, but he had a healthy buzz going on, while Amber had kept up with the women, drinking her orange vodka. They spent hours touring Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum in the Venetian Resort Hotel and documented the trip with photographs on someone’s digital camera. They ate dinner at Grande Lux Cafe where they gorged on cheesecake and returned to the casino afterward where everyone split up, agreeing to touch base the next morning.

“Looks like we’re alone,” Amber said.

He nodded. “Does that bother you?”

“Actually, I’m relieved. How else can I get to know you better?” she asked, slipping her arm around his waist. Warm and feminine, she wrapped him in seductive heat. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” Not that he cared. Anywhere she wanted to take him was fine by him.

Her eyes glittered as she walked him through the entryway leading to the shops. “We’re going on a gondola ride.” Laughing, she nudged him forward until they ended up at the back of a short line.

He glanced over a railing to see a canal running through the hotel, complete with bridges that led to other upscale stores. “I heard Vegas was incredible,” he said in awe.

Growing up in a small town on the Massachusetts coast hadn’t prepared Mike for the glamour and excitement here, beginning with this woman.

“Here comes one now.” She leaned over and pointed in the distance. “An authentic Venetian gondola complete with singing gondolier.” The long, graceful boat glided beneath a bridge, through the water and toward them.

Five minutes later, they were seated in their own private gondola, taking a scenic tour of cobblestone streets filled with cafés, balconies and shops.

The boat glided through the water and Mike leaned back, wrapping his arm around Amber and pulling her close. She snuggled into him, her soft curves fitting against his hard chest and thighs. Her hair smelled fragrant and fresh, tickling his neck as she settled in.

“Your friends, the ones that got married. They look so happy.”

“They are. They even bucked office politics to be together. We had a no-fraternization policy until Natalie got the other women to petition for a change.” He shook his head, laughing at the memory of her determination. “She was so adamant, even the men ended up backing her.”

Including Mike. He’d even had a moment of envy during the ceremony yesterday…until he reminded himself of his heritage. First comes love, then the Corwin curse kicked in. For as many generations as Mike could remember, and even those that he couldn’t, any Corwin man who’d fallen in love had suffered the repercussions. His reclusive father, Edward, was living, breathing proof the curse existed, as were his uncles, Hank and Thomas.

“I admire a woman who goes after what she wants,” Amber said just as the gondola glided beneath a long, dark bridge.

She slipped one hand onto his thigh and she tilted her head back. Her lips parted, her desire as clear as the dual meaning of her words.

Unlike his male relatives, Mike refused to let the curse rule his life. Instead, he made it a point to avoid the right kind of woman. The kind who believed in happily ever after. The type who wouldn’t take a chance on a cop who faced being killed each time he walked out the door. A woman who’d take one look at his family, his history, and run screaming the other way.

What a prize package he was, Mike thought wryly.

But he wasn’t here to fall in love, he was here to have fun.

And Amber seemed more than up for that.