She had to be joking.

Right?

Security?

Then she glanced down at my chest—not just checking it out either, although she’d done that a time or two earlier at the bar. She frowned, looking perplexed, then met my eyes.

I figured out the problem as I realized I had one myself—she thought I was an employee here. Shit, Sly and LeVan would love this. I might even call them and tell them—

No. I could call Sly maybe, but LeVan was back home, visiting his family and making plans with the girl he’d hooked back up with after so many years.

And I doubted I’d tell them anyway because if I opened my mouth about Miss Angel, they’d figure out my recently discovered problem.

The one named Angel.

I’d done my damnedest to ignore her then in the middle of a loud crowd. Harder now with just the two of us here on the theatre level.

“No. I’m not security,” I said.

I waited for her to figure it out.

“Oh. Okay. Management, I guess.” She licked her lips.

I didn’t need her doing that. Earlier, she had on a rich, wine red lipstick slicked across that gorgeous, bow-shaped curve, but at some point, she either chewed it off, or it had worn off. Her naked mouth was just as alluring. Maybe more so. She looked softer without that bright gloss, but I saw how she took on that douchebag patron, driving a vicious-looking stiletto down into his foot without breaking a sweat.

At least she didn’t seem like she’d broken a sweat.

Adrenaline can hit hard, and sometimes not until a few minutes after.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She reached up and pushed her hair back. Her hand was rock steady.

“I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Okay, maybe I’m pissed and a little uneasy, but I handled him—I would’ve handled him even if you hadn’t shown up. I’m glad you did, though.”

Something about the way she said it made me think she might have done just that. Handled it.

“If you’re sure you’re okay.” I should get away from her anyway. I was standing so close, I could smell something delicious on her. Or maybe it was just her. It was enough to make me want to find the source and taste it.

“I think I could use a drink.”

Her words, mixed right with my line of thought, hit me a little sideways and I narrowed my eyes as I studied her face. “I thought you were okay.”

“I am.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, mostly. But I’m jumpy. My roommate went off with someone. I’m definitely not up for going back out, or to risk running into a jerk like that again.”

She glanced past me with narrowed eyes that could shoot hot fire at him. Her blue eyes turned dark, almost startlingly so as her mind seemed to return to her would-be attacker. And she got pale too, staring in that direction. It was clear to me that whatever the idiot said or did before I got there had affected her.

A bit of color returned to her skin after a short time. She had the kind of skin that could burn in an instant under the Nevada sun if she didn’t slather her stunning self down with sunscreen. Her eyebrows were only dark from the bit of makeup she’d applied to perfection. I was pretty sure they were as blonde as her hair when she wore no makeup at all.

Those dark eyes all but shot fire as she glanced at the hall as if she was still seeing the asshole who bothered her.

“Anyway…I really don’t want to drink alone.” She lifted her shoulders and sighed, the movement pushing generous breasts against the silky material of her dress.

“If you’re not going downstairs, how are you expecting to get a drink, much less some company?” Stop checking out her tits, Mac. Just stop.

“I’ve got scotch in my room. You could be my company.” Then, pulling her lips to the side in a lopsided frown, she said, “But that might be a problem…I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. You work here. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m sorry.”

She turned to go, walking down the hall. I think maybe, if she hadn’t said the last few lines, I could’ve just gone back into one of my offices and ignored her. Instead, I took a step forward and said her name.

She looked back at me.

As I drew closer, I couldn’t help but notice the poster filling the wall right next to us, advertising one of the three headliners that played here in the hotel.

Angel, it seemed, was unaware.

“You don’t even know my name,” I said. Maybe it was a challenge.

Her brows lifted slightly, and a blush broke out over her cheekbones. “Um…wow. You’re right. I’m…uh…well…” She laughed, and the sound was one of embarrassment. Shaky…and real. “You’re right. What’s your name?”

She honestly didn’t recognize me.

“It’s Mac. And I wouldn’t mind a drink.” The name I’d given her wasn’t really a lie. A few select people did call me Mac.

Angel broke into a broad smile and held out her hand. I took it, glancing past her to the poster on the wall. The name, in bold, bloody red, seemed to mock me, along with the words on the rest of the signage.

Devin X.

That’s me.

Illusionist. Trickster. Magician. Liar extraordinaire.

My full name was Devin Xavier MacKenzie Knight. ‘Mac’ to my friends, and most recently, for one sexy blonde named Angel.

We took the next hallway that led to the atrium, the focal point for the theatre floor, along with more posters and paintings that filled the walls.

I was in almost all of them.

Me and my two best friends. Three magicians. Two wealthy kids and one self-acknowledged street rat. We decided years ago that we didn’t want to be headliners at somebody else’s hotel. Instead, we’d bought out the majority interests in a failing hotel and revamped it, made it our own. We were the biggest thing to hit the strip since Criss Angel.

And I was proud to say that because to me, false modesty was bullshit. I’d seen it way too often in my past.

I waited for her to say something. To comment. To notice. And she did say something—lots of somethings—just nothing that connected me to the glaring man on all the posters marked with the giant X.

As we stepped into the elevator, she smiled up at me. The back wall was covered with another piece that advertised the shows, but this was a redhead with saturnine features and a smile as sly as his name—Sly O’Malley. Sylvester was his real name, but he was ready to throw down if anyone called him that.

Right now, the wicked grin on Sly’s face practically taunted me. Dude…you’ll get your ass in hot water over this…tell her who you are, dumbass.

Looking away from Sly’s face, I focused on Angel’s.

I was a student in the science of human behavior, and when our eyes met, the first thing I noticed was that her pupils dilated. Then the pulse in the base of her neck fluttered. The faint rush of color filled her cheeks. Of course, that could’ve been attributed to any number of factors.

Any number of things…sure.

But there weren’t a lot of variables to factor in now, considering we were in an elevator alone, and she was looking at me the same way I was trying not to look at her. If I could eat her up in three greedy bites, I just might do it.

But then I’d be sorry, because it’d be over, and there’s only ever one first time.

Curious, I reached up, touched her cheek.

Her skin was soft, smooth under the callused pad of my thumb, and her breath accelerated.

“Can I ask you something, Angel?”

I slid my index finger over to her lips.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. “What?” Her lips moved against my finger with the word and my blood drained south. My cock, already half-standing at attention, came to life instantly, demanding her.

“Are we just going to your room for a drink?”

I’d expected something to go along with her blushes.

To my surprise, she reached up and caught my wrist. “Well…I wouldn’t mind a drink. But if you have something else in mind, I’m open.”

The elevator chimed just as my brain started to do a slow, thorough meltdown.

Moving back, I twisted my wrist a bit, breaking her hold. Then I twined our fingers and gestured to the doors as they slid open. “After you.”

* * *

Angel came from money.

I’d figured that out early on and not just because she wore a pair of sexy Prada heels or had gone downstairs in a designer dress that wasn’t exactly something you’d find being sold off the rack. I came from money, too. I knew the look of it. That’s why it wasn’t a surprise to end up on the classy, penthouse level. After she’d set down her purse on the table in the foyer, she shot me a quick, almost nervous look.

“I’m sharing it,” she said quickly. “I’ve got a friend traveling with me.”

A friend. Baggage, there. I wasn’t about to pry. I had baggage of my own. More than enough to last two lifetimes.

“As long as she’s not planning on climbing into bed with us, that’s fine.”

Angel laughed, the sound quick and bright. “No. Oh, man. Don’t ever say that around her. She might take you seriously and jump on it…if she doesn’t suggest it first.” A second later, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and tugged her hand away. “Said what?”

Her head fell back. Hair rich and warm as mink spilled down her back as she met my eyes. “I don’t know.” She smiled up at me. “What did I say?”

She licked her lips.

That was it.

But just as I went to taste that pretty mouth, she reached up, touched the frames of the sunglasses I rarely went without.

“What’s with the shades? Are you starring in some super spy movie twenty-four-seven or something? Or are you on the run? A vampire, perhaps?” She could tease me anytime. Angel tugged the frames off my face, and her smile lifted higher as she put them down on the table next to me. “Oh…wow. Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got amazing eyes?”

“Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a beautiful mouth?” Determined not to talk anymore, I tangled my fist in her hair and kissed her.

She sighed, softening as I licked at the seam of her lips, teasing her at first before finally taking what she offered, deepening the kiss. At the same time, I wrapped my forearm around her waist and pulled her up against me. She was a long, leggy bundle of curves, hollows, muscles and soft strength, the absolute perfect combination. What brain matter in my head that hadn’t already melted was well on its way to destruction.

Angel moaned against my lips, her fingers digging into my biceps. She wiggled against me and my cock jerked in demand as her belly rubbed against it. I stooped lower and braced my forearm under her ass, lifting her.

She broke away from the kiss, gasping. “The bedroom is down the hall.”

I knew where it was. I knew and didn’t care.

Taking a few steps into the darkened living room, I let the light guide me. I’d helped with the layout—in a general way of speaking—for how the rooms on this level would look once they were finished. I’d always liked them. My suite one floor up wasn’t too different. The dining room table was on a level a few steps higher than the rest of the room, the table, a long sleek length of ebony that reflected the lights of the city that shone through the windows. The glass was covered with a reflective coating that let the people inside see out. But nobody could see in.

“The bedroom…” she said again.

“We’ll get there.” I set her ass down on the edge of the table and slid the tips of my fingers under the hem of her dress. “Do you have condoms here?”

A blush rose to her cheeks, but she smiled easily enough. “Yes. Well, sort of. There are some in the bathroom. They were in the cabinet when we checked in. I guess they’re hotel freebies. What happens in Vegas and all that…”

I’d forgotten about those. A free supply was provided to rooms from a certain floor and higher. The penthouses were definitely above that level. Dipping my head, I pressed my lips to the area behind her ear and kissed her. “Wait here.”

She shivered and I felt her nipples harden against my chest.

I wanted to strip off her blouse, get her naked.

But if I did that, I’d forget all about hunting down some protection.

Groaning, I pulled back and forced myself to turn before I lost all sense of control.

“The bathroom is down the hall on the right,” she said from behind me.

I’d already been heading that way, but at the sound of her voice, I paused and glanced back to see her pointing toward it. Giving her a quick nod, I moved on.

Maybe I should’ve told her then.

No, there wasn’t a maybe about it.

I didn’t need her to tell me where anything in this hotel was. I knew it intimately, probably almost as well as she knew her own body. But I had no intention of telling her anything. In a few hours—or maybe in the morning—I’d leave, and this would be done.

A few minutes, maybe a few hours’ worth of an escape from my life.

That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?