“What an ass!”

I was still fuming about him thirty minutes later as I stood under the multiple jets of the guest shower I’d been given to use while my suite was finished. The hot water sluiced over me and I waited for it to wash away the temper as well. Normally, a good yoga session and a good hot shower worked wonders on me.

Sadly, my yoga session had been interrupted half way through and I’d had to finish in my room.

It wasn’t like I’d planned on someone walking in on me.

I’d known Angel and Mac wouldn’t be there for a while yet because she’d texted me only ten minutes before I’d started and told me they were running behind schedule.

How was I to know that one of Mac’s magic show buddies would saunter in like he owned the place?

Maybe we should set some rules about that.

I chewed on my lip as I grabbed the shampoo, debating, then decided I’d ask Angel if the redhead frequently popped in unannounced. I’d definitely have to give up naked yoga anyway, but I’d figured since I had the time and the privacy today, why give it up today?

And it wasn’t like I’d have to give it up forever. Just until I got my own place.

And of course, we had no idea when that would be—

My phone rang.

Blood running cold, I eased the shower door open and stared at the small electronic device that had been the source of so much terror for me over the past few months.

We still didn’t know how he’d gotten my phone number.

The cops speculated that someone at my last job might have given it to him, or maybe he had hacked into the records there. It wasn’t like the club had top-notch security—physical or cyber. Right around now, I wished I’d gotten rid of my phone and changed my number so no one could’ve tracked me down.

A fleeting memory of hands on my throat came but I banished it.

I wasn’t going to let him do that to me anymore.

The phone stopped ringing but I didn’t breathe out a sigh of relief, not until a good two minutes passed with the device remaining silent. It hadn’t been him.

If it had been, he would’ve called back.

Still, I felt incredibly vulnerable, incredibly exposed as I slid the shower door closed. Unable to enjoy the heated luxury of the enclosure another second, I finished up and climbed out.

The entire time, I watched the phone like it was a snake.

* * *

“Hi, Mom.”

Lucille Montrose went by Lucky these days, but I couldn’t call her that any more than I could’ve called her Moon when she was going through what she’d called her Earth Mother phase, or just plain Lucy when she’d explained to me that she wanted us to be more like friends than mother and daughter.

I had friends. What I wanted from her was a mother. I’d finally accepted she did the best she could—and she’d finally started to accept that I saw her as my mother, not as a girlfriend.

Mostly.

She laughed gaily on the phone at my greeting. “You know, if I were living in Las Vegas, I wouldn’t sound so dreary, darling. Tell me, how is Angel?”

“She’s beautiful and happy.” That was something to smile about.

It must have showed in my voice because Mom said softly, “You sound happy.”

Right now, I was.

I would be as long as—

I cut the thoughts off, because I didn’t want my mom to worry, for what little time she would before another thought cut off whatever motherly instincts she possessed.

“Does she know what she’s having?” Mom asked. “Or did she want to be surprised?”

Before I could answer, she continued. “I so wanted to be surprised with you, although I knew, in my heart and soul, that you would be a beautiful, confident girl—and I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, Mom.” I sipped from a glass of wine and stared out the window. I’d wanted to go exploring today but it was raining. I’d done some research on the city before moving out here—I was sort of lame like that—and Las Vegas didn’t get a lot of rain. Trust them to have one of their rare rainy days when I really, really wanted to be walking around and getting some fresh air.

“Well?”

Mom’s prodding voice nudged me and I thought back to the last thing she’d asked—her conversations were never linear but after a lifetime of knowing her, I’d learned how to keep up…sometimes. “No, she doesn’t know for sure, but she’s almost positive the baby is a girl.” I smiled a bit as I thought of how she called the baby Bump.

It was cute.

Adorable, really.

“Like me.” Mom sighed happily. “I bet her baby turns out to be as wonderful as you have. Tell me…are you seeing anyone?”

“You’re mine—”

Hands on my throat. Squeezing, squeezing…

“Are you seeing him? You little slut—”

“No, Mama,” I said, my voice husky. “I’m not. I just got here, after all.”

If she heard the slight tremor in my voice, she didn’t show it. “Well, don’t you worry. Your soul mate is out there. You’ll find the one who gets you…just like Dex and I found each other.” She paused then, her own voice going husky as she thought about Dexter Montrose, the man she’d married after knowing him only a week. “Then you’ll understand.”

I didn’t ask her what it was I’d understand.

She often seemed to exist in her own world, to the point that I was almost an afterthought. I knew she loved me, but the world she occupied was one I had no part in, nor did I really want one.

But because I knew she wanted some sort of response, I said, “I know that, Mom.”

Her next comment was cut off by a familiar click. Without thinking, I lowered the phone slightly to glance at the screen.

That familiar number came up.

The phone fell from a hand that had suddenly gone numb.