"Where you headed now?" BJ asked, lazily gathering up his winnings.
Spade turned to her, his hands sliding down her back. "Still not tired?"
It was four in the morning and she was about to pass out on her feet, but she nodded. "Night's not over until the sun's up."
"I couldn't agree more." Spade pulled her closer, leaning down to give her ear a light nip that made gooseflesh break out on her arms. "Except I'd rather spend the remaining hours in bed with you."
With his hands still tracing her back, their bodies close enough to slow dance, and his mouth hovering over her ear as he spoke, Denise thought the erotic shiver that ran through her was understandable. At least her reaction would look authentic to BJ, that was for sure.
"Don't you want to, um, have a little fun first?" Wasn't the goal to pump BJ for information, if he was indeed Black Jack?
Spade's laugh was a seductive caress. "Indeed. It's called foreplay."
Either Spade had to think she was the greatest actress ever, or he'd know the sudden race to her pulse and the low clench in her belly had nothing to do with BJ watching them.
"BJ, good to make your acquaintance," Spade said next, still holding her close. "Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be back to recoup my losses."
"Well, then, I'll see you here," BJ drawled.
Denise's back was to BJ, so he couldn't see her expression, but she frowned at Spade. Why were they leaving? Wasn't this the guy?
"Come on, darling," Spade said, kissing her lightly on the lips.
Spade led her out of the club and toward the entrance. Even at this hour, the casino was still fairly busy.
It wasn't until after the hotel limo picked them up and they were in the private elevators of the Red Rock that Denise asked the question she'd been wondering for half an hour.
"Wasn't that him?"
Spade gave her a knowing look as the elevator reopened on their floor. "Oh, it was, no question."
"Well?" she prodded. "Then why did we leave?"
He held open the door to the suite, waiting until they were inside and he'd done a quick sweep of the place to answer.
"Because now our friend is curious, comfortable, and happy at the prospect of relieving me of more quid when we next meet," Spade replied.
"You should never have gone all in on that last hand," Denise muttered.
He chuckled. "My poor dear. You'll have nightmares over that for days, won't you?"
Denise shot him an exhausted look as she set her new shawl neatly on the red couch. Spade sauntered over, none of her weariness in his gait.
"Casinos love rich losers. I couldn't have them asking me to leave after a run of luck that was too good to be true. Now Black Jack believes me to be a bad gambler, which is what I want him to think."
Denise admired his coolly logical strategy even as she winced over what it had cost him. She hoped Spade recovered some of his losses tomorrow night, or she'd have to give him all of her 401(k).
"I'm washing my face and then passing out," she announced. "Which bed do you want?"
"I'll take the guest room. Have some things to look up on my mobile first, so if you hear the shower later, it's only me."
Denise didn't think anything short of clanging cymbals could wake her once she hit the bed, but about half an hour later, she'd just drifted off when she knew she wasn't alone in the bedroom.
She kept herself perfectly still, listening to the slow slide of Spade's zipper being drawn down on his pants, the brush of fabric against skin as he drew his shirt off, and then the sounds of him gathering up his discarded clothes. Suddenly that bone-deep lethargy was gone and she felt very awake. Imagining Spade so close, totally naked, made her eyelids almost burn to open.
The shower came on, that cascade of water dulling the soft sounds Spade made. Where was he now? He moved so quietly, he could be right in front of her and she wouldn't know it. What if she opened her eyes and Spade was right there, close enough to touch?
Denise couldn't help it; her eyes slit open. Nothing in front of her. A soft click on the other side of the room was the shower door opening, she guessed. That was confirmed when she heard it again, the cadence of the water changing as Spade moved under the spray.
The water will steam the glass opaque, Denise reasoned. You won't be able to see anything. In fact, it's probably steamed up now...
As quietly as she could, she rolled over, keeping her face half concealed by the pillow.
The light in the shower illuminated Spade's bare, gorgeous flesh. The glass wasn't fogged. It didn't even look like it was there, giving her an uninterrupted view of him under the cascade of water. The sight made her lick her lips before she could stop herself.
Then Denise shut her eyes. Congratulations, you're officially a Peeping Tom. She should be ashamed, spying on Spade like that. If she had any dignity, she'd roll back over and face the wall. Now.
She opened her eyes again. Spade's back was to her, suds sluicing down his broad shoulders like sea foam. His hair was so black against the paleness of his skin, long strands separating under the streams of water. Those suds slid farther down his back, chased by spray, gathering at his waist and then dragging down the hard globes of his ass.
Denise snapped her eyes shut. Took a deep breath and promised that she would not open them again. This wasn't right. It was an invasion of Spade's privacy, a violation of his trust, a -
She opened her eyes, smothering a gasp. Spade's hands caressed down his chest, more of those suds covering them. His head was back, eyes closed, water splashing onto his face and sluicing down to clear away the suds even as he lathered more across his skin.
She'd seen a few attractive naked men in her life, but none of them came close to Spade. Every inch of his body was taut with perfectly proportioned muscles, like he'd been carved by an expert sculptor and then magically transformed into life. His height only emphasized his stunning physique with those long, powerful legs, rippled sinews crisscrossing his back, arms and chest flexing as he shampooed his hair next.
Stop looking. Right now.
She stared as Spade washed his hair, then turned to rinse the lather out, giving Denise another view of the jaw-dropping exquisiteness of his ass. Her heart started to pound while an answering throb took up cadence far lower. She knew she had to shut her eyes, but she couldn't seem to do it. Spade pivoted again, this time facing her. Denise flinched guiltily, but his eyes were still closed against the suds trailing down his face. She let her gaze travel down the grooves of his chest, past his stomach, following the thin dark line of hair that flared when it met his groin...