“Stop acting like you don’t recognize me. We need to talk—”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. His eyes darkened and his voice lowered. “No, we don’t.”
“Your name is Jax Monroe. You’re from Hope Springs, Wyoming—”
“Stop.” He turned fully around. “You aren’t going to let this drop, are you?”
She crossed her arms and shook her head. When his eyes flared, she realized she’d made the wrong move. Her arms pushed up on her chest, which was now peeking out from the diving neckline. She wanted to change positions but stubborn pride held her in place. Let him look. Maybe now he’d realize what he’d missed out on when he’d brushed off her inexperienced kiss and skipped town without a backward glance.
* * *
Jax Monroe couldn’t help but stare at Cleo—all grown-up and filled out in the right places. Long wavy honey-gold locks just begged for him to run his fingers through them to see if they were as soft as they appeared. Wow! If he had known how hot she’d turn out, he might have reconsidered returning to Hope Springs. After all, she’d had a crush on him that was apparent to everyone in their hometown... But then he recalled how young she’d been back then—much too young for him.
And now, as much as her body had grown and changed from the gangly teenager he’d once known, there were other parts of her that were annoyingly the same. She still spoke her mind at the most inopportune time and without any thought of who might be listening.
What in the world had made him think that flying across the country to hide in plain sight was such a good idea? On second thought, maybe he should have stuck it out in New York until it was time for his courtroom testimony. But he’d already made his choice. And now that he was here, he was looking forward to seeing if Lady Luck was still on his side.
Now if only he could just get Cleo to quiet down before she revealed his identity to everyone in the hotel. Frustration bubbled in his veins as he considered clamping his hand over her pink glossy lips. Then a more tempting thought came to mind of how he might silence her—lip to lip.
One look at the agitation reflected in her eyes and he knew she’d slap him if he dared kiss her. Definitely not a viable option, even if Cleo wasn’t his best friend’s kid sister. Kurt had been the one guy who’d always accepted him as is—the same guy who’d saved his bacon more than once when he’d acted out after his old man had called him a good-for-nothing mooch. The only thing Kurt had ever asked of him was to keep his hands off his little sis.
Jax smiled as he recalled Cleo with knobby knees, freckles and a long ponytail. Boy had things changed. She was smooth and polished like a piece of fine art.
Cleo’s green eyes narrowed. “Am I amusing you?”
“Um, no.” He struggled to untangle his muddled thoughts. “I take it by your name tag that you work here.”
Lines creased between her fine brows. “What’s the matter with you? Have you been drinking?”
“What? Of course not.” He’d watched his father live his life out of a scotch bottle and the way his mother tried to please him, with no luck. Jax refused to follow in his father’s unhappy footsteps. “I don’t drink.”
“So why are you calling yourself Joe Smith?”
“Let’s talk over there. Out of the way.” He pointed to the edge of the counter, away from the incoming guests.
She turned to observe the long line before following him. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I won’t let you cause trouble here.”
“Lower your voice.” Luckily no one appeared to notice them or their conversation. The guests were more interested in the arrival of an additional desk clerk than in what Cleo had to say. “I promise you I’m not here for any nefarious reason.”
“Why should I believe you? I covered for you when you ‘borrowed’ the school mascot and when you pulled those numerous other pranks. I know the trouble you can cause.”
“You’ve got to trust me.”
She arched a disbelieving brow. “Says who?”
Little Cleo had certainly gained some spunk. Well, good for her. It was also a relief to know she wasn’t still carrying that crazy torch for him. The last thing he needed at this critical juncture of his life was more complications.
Her finger poked his chest. “You’re up to something and I want to know what it is.” Her tone brooked no room for debate. He wouldn’t be wiggling out of this confrontation with some flimsy story. “You can start by explaining your need for an alias.”
“Just leave it be.”
She shook her head. “I can’t look the other way. We aren’t kids anymore. This is where I work and I can’t let you jeopardize my job.” Cleo’s voice rose with every word. “But if you turn around and leave now, we can forget we ever saw each other.”
He doubted he’d ever be able to wipe her sexy image from his memory. Her polished persona stole his breath away. She may have been a cute kid, but she’d grown up to be a real knockout. And as for leaving here now, he wasn’t about to do it. He had as much right to be here as anyone else.
Cleo leveled her shoulders and tapped her foot. He hated to tell her but if she was angling for an intimidating pose, she’d missed her mark. She was more alluring than scary.
“Don’t make me call for security.”
Heads were turning in their direction. The very last thing he wanted was to become a spectacle for the masses. “You wouldn’t do that to an old friend, would you?”
“A few minutes ago you didn’t even know me.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. Back in New York when he’d started receiving phone calls where the person at the other end wouldn’t speak, followed by notes warning him not to testify, this vacation had sounded like the perfect plan. What could be better than getting lost in a crowd while testing his luck at the blackjack table?
Ever since the assets of his investment firm had been frozen by the government until the trial was completed, he’d missed the rush of working the stock market—the flood of adrenaline. He’d hoped Vegas would give him a similar high—a chance to feel truly alive again instead of living his life from one medical test to the next.
When his doctor gave him the green light, he’d picked a spot on the map far from New York and booked a plane ticket. He’d requested an alias be used while he was at the Glamour just as a precaution. But he had no idea how much of that he should tell Cleo. If only she would trust him...for old times’ sake.
“What’s going on here?” A short, round man in a business suit approached them. He glanced at Cleo. “Do you intend to interrogate all of the casino’s important guests in the middle of the lobby?”
Her expression morphed from frustration to one of shock. Her gaze moved back and forth between the two men as though waiting for an explanation.
When none came, she said, “But he is—”
“Your client. And you will treat him with respect.” The man turned to Jax and held out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Smith. I’m Mr. Burns. We spoke on the phone. Let’s talk someplace a little more private.” He led them to a hallway just off the casino’s main floor and into an empty office. “I think there must have been some sort of mix-up. I’ll see about getting you a new casino host.”
Jax’s gaze moved to Cleo. Beneath the makeup her face had taken on a sickly pallor. And her eyes held a deer-in-headlights panic. His initial instinct was to ride to her rescue. She’d always