DARIO

He drove, his hand resting on the back of her seat, and glanced at her. She was curled up, her sweatshirt stuffed under her head, asleep. She looked so innocent. Innocent and brave. Giving that vulnerable and delicate heart and love to him. He had to protect her, take the trust she gave him and fulfill it.

An easier thing to want than deliver. Fuck, he was in one hell of a situation—pulled in different directions by two incredible women. One held his heart and his cock in her delicate grasp. The other held his head and his past in her fist. Gwen wouldn’t let go easily. She would fight for him, for them. She would remind him of every promise he’d ever made and hold him to them.

Fuck. He rubbed his hand over his face and picked up his phone, then set it back down. Changed his mind again and sent Gwen a quick text message, letting her know he was on his way back. She replied quickly, asking about dinner, and he confirmed. There. A date set. Him and Gwen. It was time to tell her everything and hear her thoughts on the matter.

He’d been married to the woman for a decade but suddenly, with the dinner looming, he was lost at what to expect.

THE FAILURE

Claudia chewed at the edge of one nail, watching the back of the minivan as it changed lanes. This had been a complete waste of a trip, and Robert had been less than enthusiastic on their last call. The disappointment had been hard in his voice, each question another stab in her gut.

Why had they left mid-dinner? She didn’t know.

Why hadn’t Bell stayed at the hotel when Dario had met with the show runners? She didn’t know.

Had she been in the meeting with him? She couldn’t say. The talent office hadn’t let her follow them up the elevator, wanting her driver’s license and authorization from someone inside.

She had done her best, and it hadn’t been enough. There hadn’t been an opening, the couple glued together like lovesick idiots.

She turned up the air conditioning. She hadn’t told Robert about their behavior together, afraid the details would anger him further. The way that Dario looked at her, the way he constantly touched her, pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head … it had made Claudia sick. Dario was married to Gwen. Devoted to Gwen. He was supposed to be in love with Gwen.

It was a wrong that needed to be righted. First, by Bell Hartley’s death. And then? She tore off a piece of her cuticle and wondered what further punishment Robert would bring down on Dario Capece.

She glanced down at the notebook where she’d written down the code that Robert had given her. 04182996#. He’d gone into The Majestic’s reservation system and pulled the access for suite 908.

It was probably better, killing Bell there. The Majestic was a controlled environment, one Robert could get her full access to. He would be able to kill security cameras and see housekeeping schedules. She would have privacy and less witnesses than at Taco Bell.

She released the gas, letting the minivan grow further away. Putting on her turn signal, she moved into the right lane and onto the next exit. Glancing down the road, she caught a final glimpse of the van before it disappeared from sight.

Soon. Soon, this task would be done. Bell Hartley would be dead. Dario Capece would be punished. Robert would be pleased, and Gwen’s marriage would be saved. All thanks to her.

It would be the biggest test Robert Hawk had ever given her.

So far, she had failed. But soon. Soon, she would succeed.

BELL

“I’d like you to stay in the suite tonight.”

I looked over, halfway through a Sudoku puzzle I had already screwed up. “Tonight?” I made a face. “I’ve got laundry to do.” With my last two weeks filled with work, Dario, and exams, my dirty clothes pile had accumulated into a mountain. Now that the semester had ended, I had no excuse.

“Do it there.” He rested one hand on the steering wheel, his other on my thigh.

“You want me to go home, pack up all my dirty laundry, and take it to The Majestic?” I laughed. “No.”

“You know, we have services for that.”

“I don’t want some stranger going through my dirty clothes.” Though… maybe I could get over that. The thought of never doing laundry again was definitely tempting. I turned the page and started a fresh puzzle.

“You can do laundry tomorrow. Just stay there tonight.”

I looked up, curious at his insistence. “Is it a sex thing? You had one taste at what I’ve got, and now you need it every night?”

He chuckled. “It’s not a sex thing.”

“Is it my sparkling personality? You need more of it?”

He grinned and released my thigh, stealing my hand and pulling it into his lap. “Guilty. I am addicted to your sparkling personality.”

“That’s a common issue, you know.” I straightened in my seat. “I have to send certified letters and hire professionals to handle the personality stalkers. It’s exhausting.”

He lifted my hand and ran his lips over my thumb, then gently nipped it. “I will try not to be exhausting. And I refuse to accept certified letters.”

I giggled when he flicked his tongue over my knuckle, the flutter reminding me of his talent against my clit. I shifted in the seat, and his gaze darkened.

“You’re lucky you’re wearing jeans. If you were in a skirt right now…” He shook his head, his eyes on the road.

“If I were in a skirt, I’d have my panties pulled to the side and your fingers inside me.”

He made a sound low in his throat, one that sounded suspiciously like a growl. “Dirty girl.”

I laughed. “Not … yet.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and flipped up the armrest. He watched the action, his mouth curving into a smile. Then, I took full advantage of the minivan’s lack of center console and got on my knees, unzipping his pants and taking him into my hand. As we grew closer to Vegas, I showed him exactly how dirty my mouth could be.

GWEN

Her husband was nervous. She could see it in the stern jerk of his head at the waiter, the way his fingers drummed on the table, the adjustment of his tie.

She waited until their drinks were served, then leaned forward. “What’s wrong? Is it something that happened in San Diego? Or…” She looked down at her place setting, moving the silverware into a neat row. “Has my father done something?”

Ever since that lunch with her father, she’d been filled with a sense of dread, the weight of an impending event. She’d tried to follow its thread, tried to figure out its source. Nick at the ranch? Something with Dario?

“Your father hasn’t done anything.” He smiled at her, a gesture meant to reassure her. It didn’t work. She’d seen enough of his smiles to know which ones meant what. There was the smile he gave when he was amused. The one that spoke of fondness. The one that was forced. The one that hid something.

This smile was that last sort.

She sighed. “Just tell me. Whatever it is. You’re driving me mad.”

His jaw tightened, and he finally, after a long period of silence, nodded. “I’m in love with someone. The new waitress I met.”

In some ways, it was as unexpected as a bomb. While she had fallen in love with Nick, Dario had always been the casual one. All the women he’d been with … none of them had kept his interest or posed a threat to her. Sure, the women had developed attachments to him. It was hard to be around Dario and not fall in love with him. He was so big, so impressive in everything he did. She remembered the night she met him—before he ruled over Vegas, back when he was just a casino general manager. Even then, he’d taken her breath away. So sexy. So brooding. So intense and charismatic. When he’d looked at her, it had been as if he really saw her. When he listened to her, it was as if he took each word in and valued them.

And now, this beautiful, powerful man—her man—was in love with another woman. A cocktail waitress. She laughed despite herself. Talk about a step down.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand to her forehead and rubbed it. “Fuck.”

This sucked, and mostly because he wouldn’t bring this up unless it was serious. And if it was serious, then it was an issue. “What does she know about me?”

“Enough to understand the situation. She doesn’t need me to do anything.”

“You mean, leave me? She doesn’t need you to leave me?” The words came out harsher than she had intended, and his face hardened in response.

“I’ll never leave you. You know that.”

He emphasized the word “leave” and that was a tell in itself. He wanted a divorce. He would support her, protect her, but wanted a divorce. What did a world look like without him as her husband?

She shook her head. “No. I can’t. He’ll…” She looked up at him. “He’ll kill me.”

She whispered the statement and believed every word of it. Her father would kill her. Not physically, but the mental strain, the exhaustive chess games of manipulation he played, the stress and the torture he would put her through… she’d be back on a rooftop, wanting to end it. Only this time, there wouldn’t be a Dario to save her. This time, she’d jump.

“Gwen.”

Her father could fix this. One call and he’d take care of the girl. She’d be gone, and Gwen would be safe for another decade, maybe longer. Dario wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. Even their marriage, their ten years together … it had never been true love—not the sort of reckless heady emotion between two souls. Their love had grown slowly, a friendship, fed with mutual respect and adoration for each other.

Her breath stalled at the path she’d just considered. That was the danger in being Robert Hawk’s daughter. Spend enough time around evil, and you start accepting the options it provided.

She looked at her husband. “How long has this been going on?”

“Not long. A month or so. Less than two.”

The signs were all there. Gwen had known about him ending things with Meghan, had noticed the new suite that he’d pulled out of the rental pool. Suite 908. A new home for a new girl. Typical behavior, yet when combined with his late nights and distraction, it was alarming. Her anxiety worsened.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m not doing anything right now except talking to you about this.”

“No.” She shook her head, a short and jerky movement that caused a twinge of pain in her neck. “No. You can’t.” She pulled her hand away. “You promised me.”

He had promised her safety, to be a conduit between her and her father. He promised to be her right-hand, to help her rebuild The Majestic’s reputation. He had promised to marry her, to take her out of that house, to give her a new life. He had delivered on all of those promises, for all of this time. He couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t throw her away just because he had fallen in love.

Love. God. How terrible was she to not want him to be in love? He deserved that. He’d done so much for her. Was it fair for her to hold him hostage?

“Don’t make me be this way.” She held his eyes and begged him with her gaze. “I just … I’m not ready. You can date her, you can love her, just don’t… don’t leave me.”

She was pathetic. Where was the strong woman that was supposed to reign over this town? Where was the woman who had done so many great things in the last decade?

But Dario had been beside her with all of those things. Encouraging her. Comforting her when she was exhausted. Giving her a kick in the ass when she was afraid. Handling the dirty details while her hands remained clean.

She stared at him and saw a pain that matched her own. He was one of two of the best men she knew, and her confidence in his loyalty had been unquestioned. He’d never ask anything if it would cause her pain, yet as she searched his face for an answer, she only saw disaster.