All or Nothing

“Sorry,” he murmured, his musky scent of pine and sweat oddly pleasing.

She had a feeling he wasn’t one bit sorry judging by the way his gaze stayed fixed on her mouth. “No problem.”

“Hope I didn’t hurt you.” He was a good four inches taller than her, and she was no slouch at five-nine.

She smiled. “They’re gone.”

“What?”

“You can move back now.”

He swung his gaze toward the retreating group. “Ah.” And then he straightened and lowered his hand, his eyes coming back to her face, his mouth curving in a sly grin. “Who knew you could get stampeded in New York City?”

She sidestepped him and moved closer to the street where she could get some much-needed air. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to be late.”

“What about your payment?”

“Are we still on for tomorrow morning?”

“Most definitely. I believe I booked you for a third morning, as well?”

“Right.” She stuck her hand out to hail a cab even though she really had plenty of time to hoof it the nine blocks to her next appointment. Best she get away from him now. Tomorrow she’d be better composed. “We’ll settle up at the end of your stay.”

“Why, you’re mighty trusting.”

A cab pulled to the curb and she opened the door. “Yeah.” Too trusting. Stupidly naive, in fact. As a result, she’d made mistakes. Shameful ones she could barely stand to think about. “Must be my midwest upbringing,” she murmured as she slid into the safety of the cab. God, when was she ever going to learn?

AFTER EATING a late lunch in the hotel’s bistro-style restaurant, which to Chase meant small portions, large tab, he stopped at the front desk. He recognized the short, dark-haired front-desk clerk from this morning when he’d met Dana in the lobby.

He also recognized the name on the gold tag she wore. She was on his list. “Good afternoon, Amy.”

She smiled, looking prettier than at first glance. “Good afternoon, Mr. Culver. What can I do for you?”

For a moment, it took him aback that she knew his name. But this was one of those ritzy hotels that pampered guests with big fluffy bath towels and Godiva chocolates on the pillows, so maybe it wasn’t that odd. He’d never stayed in a place like this before. Doubted he ever would again unless he was on the job.

“Well, darlin’, you can tell me if you have a big safe in the back for me to keep some of my valuables.” He gave her one of the big smiles that had gotten him into the back rooms of high-stakes’ poker games and into more trouble than he cared to think about.

“Yes, of course.” She smiled back. “But you do know you have a private one in your room, as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced over at the bellman standing at the end of the counter, and then Chase lowered his voice, “But I’ve heard rumors about a couple of thefts here in the past month.”

Amy blinked. “Um…”

“Now, I’m sure you’ve been instructed not to talk about it,” he said, leaning part way across the desk so that their faces were only inches apart. “And I don’t wanna get you in any trouble, but you see, I have this expensive diamond necklace I just purchased and I would be real unhappy if anything happened to it.”

She glanced around, opened her mouth to speak and then promptly shut it again. Their eyes met and she briefly pursed her lips. “If you’d like us to keep something in the hotel safe, that certainly can be arranged.”

Damn. He must be losing his touch. “But you think my room safe is sufficient?”

Her gaze narrowed and she bit indecisively at her lower lip. “I don’t have an opinion in that regard,” she said finally.

Chase smiled, wondering how hard he should push. “I’ll think on it.” He pushed away from the counter, at the same time noticing that no one manned the concierge desk. “Do you know when the concierge will be back?”

“I’ll page Kelly right away.”

Perfect. She was the assistant and just the woman he wanted to speak with. “No hurry,” he said. “Just looking for restaurant reservations. I’ll come back in an hour.”

He felt Amy’s gaze on him until he rounded the corner where he ended up near the double doors to the Crystal Ballroom. A member of the housekeeping staff was polishing an ornate brass lamp that sat on a table near the sign for the restrooms. She barely looked up and no one else was in sight so he pulled out the small notebook he kept in his inside breast pocket.

When his finger caught on something he looked down and realized he hadn’t yet removed the price tag from the new navy blue blazer he’d bought yesterday before getting on the plane to New York. He muttered a curse, glanced around to make sure no one had sneaked up on him, and then ripped out the tag.

He only owned one suit, which, unfortunately, had seen more funerals than weddings. His other sports jacket had gotten him through dozens of court appearances, but was slightly too worn for his role as Chase Culver, rich producer, son of an oilman. The snakeskin boots he wore he’d gladly forked over five hundred bucks for two years ago. There were some things a man just didn’t scrimp on.

After flipping through a couple of pages of his notebook, he found the name of the St. Martine’s head of security. Gil Wagoner was an ex-cop who had retired after twenty-one years on the job. Chase hadn’t managed to pull his jacket, but he did know that the man’s record hadn’t been particularly remarkable. Not a bad thing. Maybe no commendations decorated his walls, but he hadn’t been brought up on any charges, either. Probably one of those guys who showed up every day to eventually get that pension. No crime in that. A warm body in a uniform was all that was needed sometimes.

Chase exhaled and thought for a minute. He wasn’t quite ready to talk to the man yet. Better to get his own feel first. Let his gut point him in a direction before finding out who security or the cops thought looked good for the theft. They had to figure it was an inside job. Roscoe hadn’t been the only one who’d been ripped off. Chase knew of at least one other theft. Who knew how many more the hotel was keeping under wraps? No matter. Two was enough to make him think the perp was right here. Not another guest, but an employee.

Or someone like Dana.

Man, he hoped not. But she had means and opportunity and maybe a motive he didn’t know about yet, so he couldn’t rule her out. Wouldn’t be the first time a pretty face and great body had waylaid an investigation.

His cell phone rang, snagging the attention of the young woman polishing the lamp. He checked the caller ID and decided to let Buddy leave a message. Whatever his ex-partner had to say would be better discussed in the privacy of Chase’s room. He flipped the cell shut, briefly catching the eye of the maid. She smiled shyly and quickly looked away.

Chase tucked the small notebook and phone back into his pocket. Then he adjusted his collar and put his game face on. No use passing up an opportunity. The young woman slid him another look. He smiled and moved toward her. “Good morning, ma’am.”

WHEN Dana entered the lobby the next morning, Amy was busy helping a guest. Kelly was on the phone. Dana checked her watch. She still had fifteen minutes before she had to meet Chase and she’d hoped the girls could get away for a cup of coffee.

She really wanted to tell them about him. Naturally she wasn’t interested in his projects or what kind of talent he was scouting, but like her, Kelly and Amy had both come from small midwestern towns looking to break into show business. Unlike her, they hadn’t given up.

Kelly hung up the phone and motioned Dana over to her desk. “You have time for coffee?” Kelly asked, shooting a look toward the door to the executive offices.

“Absolutely. I purposely came early.”

“You have a client?” Kelly closed her appointment book and slipped her gold Cross pen into the top drawer of her black-lacquer-and-glass desk.

“Yep.”

“Same one as yesterday?”

Dana nodded. “Chase Culver. He’s the reason I wanted to talk to the two of you.”

“I’d like to do more than talk to him. The guy’s hot.”

She shrugged. “He’s okay.”

Kelly snorted. “Are we talking about the same man?”

Dana grinned. “So he’s a little more than okay.”