His 7-Day Fiancée

The guard consulted his notes. “Amanda Patterson. Said she arrived in Las Vegas last week. She’s staying with her sister, Kendall Patterson, a dancer in your teno’clock show.”

Luke thought back to the brunette he’d seen with her in the lobby. A dealer and a dancer. An inside job, then? Probably a scam to sue the casino.

The spurt of disappointment took him by surprise. He knew better than to expect the blonde to be innocent. This was Vegas. Everyone was on the make. Even the prettiest face masked a conniving heart.

The guard switched to another screen, and Luke watched the man exit the casino, still hiding his face. He checked the time on the tape. Twenty minutes ago. No point looking for him now.

“Let me know what the employee search brings up. Contact legal, call the police. Get Martinez over here if you can.” He and Martinez want to have to findwent way back to their childhood in Naked City, the slums beyond the Strip. He could count on him to keep the story hushed until the Phoenix deal went through.

He turned, headed down the hall to interview the blonde. Chances were that this was an inside job, but he couldn’t rule out the Rothchilds. Harold Rothchild was buried in debt, his empire on the verge of collapse. Luke’s project would seal his doom.

Which was exactly what Luke planned.

Of course, if the Phoenix project failed, he would suffer instead. He set his jaw. Good thing he didn’t intend to fail.

He pushed open the office door, spotted the blonde standing by the desk. She turned toward him as he entered the room.

His gaze met hers. A sudden awareness shivered between them, and he hesitated in midstride.

She was even more attractive close up. Her eyes were a deep, startling blue, as vibrant as the desert sky. She had pale, creamy skin, a smattering of freckles on her feminine nose. Her lips looked soft and lush.

She was pretty, damned pretty—stunning if he factored in those world-class legs.

But this close he could also sense an aura of vulnerability about her. She stood with her shoulders hunched, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

The sudden urge to protect her caught him off guard.

He frowned, shook himself out of his daze. This woman didn’t need his protection. For all he knew, she was here to swindle him. “Amanda Patterson?”

“Yes.” Her low, smoky voice slid through him, doing strange things to his insides.

He crossed the room. “I’m Luke Montgomery.”

“Yes, I know, I…” A blush crept up her cheeks. “My sister pointed you out earlier.”

He’d bet. He reached out his hand. She hesitated, then gripped his palm. The smooth, silky feel of her skin arrowed through him, deleting his thoughts. He was held immobile by those amazing blue eyes. His heart beat hard in his chest.

After several long moments, he realized he was still holding her hand. He scowled, pried his fingers loose, annoyed by the effort it took. What the hell was that about? Hehadn’t been that affected by awoman in years.

And this one could be trying to deceive him.

“Have a seat.” Anxious to put some distance between them, he retreated to the desk, then leaned back against it and folded his arms.

She perched on the leather chair in front of the desk and crossed her legs. His gaze fell to her lean, bare thighs, traced the elegant curve of her calves. Realizing his thoughts were derailing again, he lifted his eyes.

“So what happened?” His tone was more brusque than he’d intended, and she blinked.

She sat up straighter, flexed her wrist as if it ached. Her chest rose as she drew in a breath. “I was going to the blackjack tables to find my sister, but I got lost. I’ve never been here before. I started to turn around but then a…a man came up behind me.”

Her voice trembled convincingly, but he was determined to stay objective. “He was armed?”

“I think so. He jabbed something into my back. I thought…it felt like a gun.”

“Then what?”

“He said…he wanted my jewelry, my ring.”

His gaze cut to her unadorned ears, to the cleavage bared by the plunging dress, and his mind flashed back to the tapes. He hadn’t noticed any jewelry before the attack. A slipup there.

“So you handed it over?” he asked, knowing damned well she hadn’t.

But she surprised him by shaking her head. “No, I…I don’t have any jewelry, not anymore.” She lifted one slender shoulder and lowered her eyes. “I sold everything a while back when I needed the money.”

So she was short on cash. Good motive to run a scam.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. No matter how attractive she was, he didn’t have time for this farce. He’d make sure the Rothchilds weren’t involved, keep this damned thing out of the news, then let the police handle the rest.

“So you’re saying a man held you up with a gun you didn’t see, and demanded jewelry that you don’t have.”

A small frown creased her brow. “You don’t believe me? You think I made this up?”

“We have cameras all over the casino. I saw the tapes.” He raised his brows. “You looked nervous even before the man showed up.”

Her smooth lips parted. The color drained from her face. “But that’s because I thought…I thought…” She pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes.

“You thought what? That you’d pretend to be attacked and sue the casino?”

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. “You think I’d pretend about something like that? Are you joking?” She let out a highpitched laugh. “Oh, God. This figures. I thought…” She shook her head, gathered her bulky purse and rose. “Forget it.”

“The hell I will.” He pushed himself away from the desk and blocked her path. “You thought what?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She tried to step around him, but he reached out and grabbed her upper arm. She flinched, jerked back. “Let me go.”

He dropped her arm, stunned by the urgency in her voice, the flash of fear in her eyes. She quickly scuttled away.

He studied her, taken aback. She couldn’t be this good of an actress. She was actually afraid of him.

He eased apart his hands, made his expression neutral, his voice nonthreatening so she wouldn’t bolt. “Look, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just need to know what happened.”

“I…” She nodded, sucked in her breath, as if to pull herself together. “I didn’t really…It was just…my exhusband. Wayne Wheeler. I thought he was here.”

He eyed the distance she’d put between them, the wary way she watched him—defensive, alert, like a cornered animal ready to run. And anger stirred in his gut. He had no patience for abusive men. And unless he was wildly off base, this woman had been attacked.

He struggled to keep the emotion from his voice. “Your ex lives around here?”

She shook her head, sending her silky hair sliding over her arms. “He’s in Maryland, in jail. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t even his voice. But I thought, earlier…I was just nervous. I overreacted. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her forehead with a trembling hand, sank back into her chair.

He frowned. He didn’t doubt her story. Her fear looked real…And the facts would be easy to check.