“Did I hear you say your name was Angel?”

The low voice, full of innuendo and sensual warmth, came from my left. I sighed, turning my head to meet the pale blue eyes behind a pair of hipster-cool frames.

The guy was good-looking.

He was also not my type. I needed no more proof than the way he was smiling about my name.

My best friend Tamika leaned in, nudging me, and I recognized the signal. She’d already been on me for shooting down every guy I met. I’d told her I was fed up with the lines and the lame come-ons and the idiots who thought that just because they took off their wedding ring, it meant I couldn’t see the strip of skin where it usually rested.

But…maybe she was right.

Maybe I was too critical.

And hey, we were in Vegas, right?

My one last wild vacation. I’d planned to throw it all to the wind before I headed down to Mexico to work at an inner-city school for the next two years. It was considered a family tradition, being all socially conscious, although my parents had freaked out when they heard I was going to teach in Mexico.

We didn’t do things like that.

The Halliwell family volunteered at hospitals, and they led literacy initiatives, and sometimes, on rare occasion, they might volunteer at a homeless shelter or a home for battered women.

But physically going to an inner city in another country?

That was confusing for my parents. I think it also terrified them. I was their only child, and they’d redefined overprotective.

I’d been very clear in my determination to continue as planned.

I was looking forward to getting out from under the near-oppressive blanket of their love and affection. Granted, it was a love and affection governed by very specific rules of behavior, but Phillip and Evangeline Halliwell did love me.

They also didn’t understand me.

It was going to be fantastic getting away from those confused eyes and puzzled looks for a while.

It was going to be stellar to get away from arranged dates and not-so-subtle oh, have you met so-and-so’s son…at every dinner party or charity function that we attended.

Months of freedom stretched out in front of me.

And before I kicked it off, I planned this week of partying, shows and gambling here in the bright neon lights of Las Vegas.

The man who’d approached me was still waiting for an answer. I managed a casual smile. “Yes. It’s Angel.”

“It suits you…because you really do look like one.” He smiled, showing off perfectly straight white teeth.

An orthodontist’s dream smile. I should know. I had one myself—or I’d had one, up until an impromptu game of football with some friends in college had sent me tumbling to the ground. A rock had claimed one small chip from my right front tooth, and once the swelling had gone down from my mouth, I’d decided I liked it.

My smile no longer looked like an ad for a toothpaste commercial.

Again, my parents had been confused.

“Just what do angels look like?” I asked, sipping from the watered-down cocktail I’d been nursing for the past hour.

Nonplussed, he gave me a puzzled look. Apparently deciding he’d heard me wrong in the loud bar, he leaned in closer. “Why don’t you let me buy you another drink?”

“You know what…I don’t think so. Have a good night.” I swiveled on the stool back to Tamika. She was talking to a guy with a fantastic smile—bet he wasn’t making stupid jokes about her name.

“Hey, come on, honey…”

A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder.

The guy hadn’t left.

Shrugging it off, I met his gaze and said, “I told you no. I’m not interested.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. After a second, he curled his lip and said, “I take it back. You don’t look like an angel. You look like a fuckin’ bitch.”

He turned to go and ended up crashing into a broad, massive wall of muscle.

“Hey, man, why don’t you…oh. Hey. My bad.”

Leaning against the bar, I watched as Mr. Suave patted the big guy’s arm and said, “That was all me. No harm, no foul.”

The big guy, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses here in the club, studied him for a long moment before shifting his attention up. And even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I had no doubt he was looking at me. The condescending smirk that twisted his lips tugged a smile out of me.

Somehow, I knew that smirk wasn’t directed at me.

“Sure, kid,” the man said, his voice deep, matching his size. “No harm, no foul. Why don’t you just head on out of here now?”

He spoke with a rich, rolling accent. Definitely with French undertones. I was sure he was Cajun because it made me think of sultry, dark bayous, honeysuckle and magnolia blossoms. Everything I’d seen, heard, smelled, touched, and tasted during my trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras one year. It was the kind of voice a woman would just love to hear whispering in her ear at night. At least, this woman would.

Mr. Suave gave a jerky nod, then disappeared into the crowd.

And then the big guy moved up and straddled the stool two seats down from me. He shot me a look. “Was he bothering you?” he asked politely.

“Nothing I’m not used to,” I said honestly.

A frown twisted his lips. He had an absolutely beautiful mouth. “That’s pretty shitty. Shouldn’t have to get used to it.”

“You’d be amazed at what a person can get used to.” I swirled my straw around in my glass, wondering if this was the ideal time to ask if I could buy him a drink.

His eyes slid to mine.

I couldn’t make out anything behind those mirrored lenses, but I knew, as sure as I was sitting there, he was studying me. One corner of that sexy mouth quirked up in a smile, and he shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t.”

It caught me off guard. I wondered if maybe he was reading my mind—no, I wouldn’t buy him a drink…?

“Excuse me?”

He shrugged, and the movement highlighted something that didn’t need highlighting, heavy muscles under the close-fitting, long-sleeve t-shirt he wore. “I wouldn’t be surprised by what a person can get used to…Angel.”

The bartender approached, but before I could ask if I could maybe buy him a drink, she put one down in front of him. They nodded at each other, a gesture of old familiarity, then she glanced at me, a bright, customer-pleasing smile on her face. “Need a refill?”

“Ah…yes. Please.”

She turned away without asking what I’d been drinking, a sure sign of a good bartender, and I looked back at the big guy.

He was pondering his drink.

“Why is it you wouldn’t be surprised?” I asked him.

He didn’t even look my way this time. “Because I’ve had to get used to more shit in my life than most decent folk can probably fathom.”

He nodded to me, one big hand closed around his drink. “Enjoy your night, Miss Angel.”

The words were delivered in a slow, lazy drawl that stroked across my skin, up, down, all around, as if he’d actually touched me.

He turned away while I was still processing my seriously crazed reaction to him and I huffed out a sigh. I could either stay here or look desperate and go after him.

Looking desperate didn’t seem all that bad, then.

But a man like that wasn’t going to react well to being chased.

Blowing out a breath, I turned back to my drink.

At least I had some serious fantasy material to take to Mexico with me. That was good, right?

* * *

“Well…if it isn’t Angel.”

Key card in hand, I paused at the sound of the voice behind me and turned slowly.

Tamika, lucky bitch, had hooked up.

I was on my own now, walking back to my hotel room at Casino Torrid. I’d been to Las Vegas any number of times and had hiked around the city alone at all hours—practically—without issue. They said New York was the city that never sleeps, but I had to wonder if whoever coined that line had ever been to Las Vegas. Hard to be too concerned when there were still people out in droves even as late as three or four a.m.

It was only a little after midnight when I’d decided I was at my limit for alcoholic drinks, and was tired of walking around in the stilettos I’d decided to wear with this dress.

I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings when I left the main floor of the casino to head up to the escalator. The suite I shared with Tamika was on the concierge level. I could take the express elevator if I wanted to circle around and head to the front of the hotel. I didn’t want to circle around, so I ended up taking the escalator.

I was walking down the hall to the next elevator bank when he spoke from behind me. This section of the hotel, I’d found, was almost always quiet this time of night. Two of the hotel’s three live shows were located on this floor, and once the shows were over, it was practically a ghost town.

Which was great to avoid crowds.

Not so much when it came to needing help.

When I turned to see Mr. Suave from earlier, it was just him and me.

Not something that pleased me a lot, I had to say.

“You lost, pretty Angel?”

“Please,” I said as I faced him. “Why don’t you take your canned come-on lines and try them on somebody who hasn’t heard them a thousand times?” Then, with a snap of my fingers, I gave a small laugh. “That won’t work, will it? Men aren’t allowed to date sixth graders, are they?”

His brows came together over his eyes as he edged closer. “Why do rich bitches like you always got to act so high and mighty around a guy when all he’s doing is being friendly?”

“High and mighty?” I shook my head. “It’s called not interested.”

“Girls like you are always not interested when it’s just some average guy.” He sneered and raked me up and down with a look that I knew was supposed to be offensive—intimidating, too—but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “You dress up like that, get a man all worked up and then it’s a cold shoulder.”

“Newsflash, ace. Women don’t always dress up in a cute skirt and a pair of heels to get a man’s attention.” Waving a hand at him, I motioned toward the stairs. “Now why don’t you toddle off elsewhere? You can probably find some cute little coed who might be impressed with your stupid posturing. I’m not.”

He leaned in. “Then why do you dress like that?” he asked, grabbing my upper arm as I went to back away.

“Oh, you want to take your hands off me now,” I warned.

“Yeah?” He grabbed my other arm. “And if I don’t?”

I drove the spike of my heel down into the top of his foot. Then, as he let go in surprised pain, I jerked backward and turned away, intent on making the best use of my long legs as possible.

“You stupid—”

The odd, curious sound as his words were cut off had me pausing, then glancing back.

I didn’t quite turn around in time to catch the full show. He was already pinned against a wall, his feet dangling several inches above the floor, face going a vivid shade of red. I assumed it was because he had a massive forearm shoved against his throat.

“Didn’t we already have this talk?”

It was him. Big guy from the bar with the sunglasses at night. Big Shades for short, as he didn’t stick around long enough to tell me his name.

Please tell me he hadn’t been following me, too…I thought despairingly. But even as that thought started to sputter to life, a couple of people moved up to flank him—one even came my way.

My gaze landed on the badge that said security.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the big, broad, bass-toned man in front of me said. He was massive—broad enough to block my view of Big Shades. And I decided I didn’t like anyone that could be so cruel as to obstruct my view of my savior.

Sidestepping a little, I continued to watch as the sexy piece of work from downstairs growled at a much more cowed Mr. Suave. He was, by the way, far less suave now than ever before.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m all right,” I said, reaching out to pat the security guard on the shoulder. “Is he…”

Big Shades abruptly stepped back and let his prey go. The smaller man hit the floor so suddenly, his legs almost crumpled. That didn’t happen, probably because his shirt front was caught in big hands.

“If I see you in here again, I’m going to do you serious damage. As it is, I’m sending images from the security feed tonight out to every joint on the strip,” Big Shades said in a friendly voice. “Every casino’s security department from here to Reno will know your face, and if you go pulling stunts like this anywhere else, you can expect to be banned. Don’t ever set foot in this establishment again.”

“You can’t do that!” His voice cracked.

“Arnie.” The big man’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Can I do that?”

“Absolutely, sir.” One of the men behind him smiled, looking quite amused by the entire scene.

“Thank you, Arnie. Now if you and the team would show him out…” Big Shades stepped away.

“But…”

“It’s fine, Arnie.” Big Shades looked at them, his sunglasses firmly in place.

Had he had them on earlier? I couldn’t remember. But I was still floundering from the speed of the events.

As he came toward me, my tongue tried to unglue itself from the roof of my mouth.

“I…uh…” Clearing my throat, I gestured toward the man who was still arguing. “Well, thanks.”

He didn’t say anything as he came to a halt.

“You know, for a minute, I thought I had two guys following me around tonight. I’ve had some shitty luck before, but that…?” My laugh came out sounding way too high-pitched, way too forced. “But…well. I guess you work here. Security?”