Vicki Thompson: Werewolf in Las Vegas

Giselle didn’t have time to stand around and admire the beauty of it, though. She was a werewolf on a mission. Once in the elevator, she called Vaughn, whose office was on the top floor of the building.

“Welcome to Las Vegas, Giselle. The front desk notified me that you’d checked in.” Vaughn had the quiet authority of a seasoned alpha, although he couldn’t be much older than Giselle, who’d just turned twenty-eight. He’d assumed his father’s role with confidence. He’d chosen a suitable mate years ago, and now a baby was on the way, a grandchild that poor Harrison would never see.

“I have checked in,” Giselle said. “Are you free to see me?”

“Absolutely. Come on up whenever you’re settled. Is the suite okay?”

“I’m sure it is, but I haven’t been there yet. I’m in the elevator headed for your floor.”

“Okay, good. We have a lot to talk about. Have you had any texts from Bryce today?”

“No. Has something happened?” Her heart rate picked up.

“He was seen at a poker game last night.”

She sucked in a breath. “Where?”

“I’d rather tell you about this in person.”

“I’m nearly there.”

A few minutes later, a receptionist ushered her into Vaughn’s office. It looked more like a mountain hideaway than command central for Cartwright Enterprises. Beamed ceilings sheltered rustic furniture created from peeled logs, and a gas fire flickered on a stone hearth. A wall of windows looked out on the Strip, but otherwise, the room could have been part of a ski lodge in Aspen.

Vaughn came around from behind his hand-carved desk. “It’s great to finally meet in person.” He took her hand in both of his. He was a good-looking Were with dark brown hair and the kind of solid build typical of strong werewolf males.

“Same here. I appreciate your support in this, Vaughn, especially because you must have a ton of issues you’re dealing with.”

“Yeah.” His smile was tinged with sadness.

She gazed at him with sympathy. “Your dad was so young.”

“Yeah. Only fifty-seven. I keep expecting him to come walking through that door.”

“Was this his office?”

“Yes, and I always loved it, so I’ve kept things the way he had them.” He gestured to a couple of overstuffed easy chairs in front of the fireplace. “Please have a seat. Can I get you anything?” He walked over to a wet bar along the wall next to the windows. “Wine? Mixed drink? Something to eat?”

“Nothing for me, thanks.” She settled into a comfy leather chair.

“You’re sure?” He sounded disappointed.

She glanced toward the wet bar, where he was in the process of returning two glasses to the shelf. “I’m sure, but if you want something, go ahead.”

“Guess I was hoping to have somebody to share a drink with.” He turned. “Shana can’t because of the baby, and it’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”

She realized then what she might have noticed right away if she hadn’t been so caught up in her own problems. Despite his crisp white dress shirt, his Ralph Lauren tie, and what were probably designer slacks, Vaughn Cartwright didn’t have it together this afternoon. His hair was mussed, and without the smile he’d given her earlier, she was able to see the anxiety lurking in his gray eyes.

“What’s happened, Vaughn?”

Vaughn rocked back on his heels. “Well, that wasn’t just an ordinary poker game last night. It was a special event between two players, one of them being my brother, Benedict, and the other being Luke Dalton.”

“So it was a Cartwright-Dalton rematch?” Now she knew why Bryce had been there to watch. He loved to gamble, and he’d been fascinated with the Cartwright-Dalton feud.

“Exactly. Dalton put the Silver Crescent on the line, and Benedict thought he could win it back.”

“Would that even be worth doing? I can’t imagine the cost of renovations to create what you had there before.”

“Yeah, it would be pricey, but we’d make it back in no time by restored access to the Moon and the playground. But that’s a moot point. Instead of winning the hotel, my brother lost the bar.”

“He bet the Moon? How could he? You’re the alpha! Surely you wouldn’t let—”

“He inherited it.” Vaughn sounded exhausted. “Unfortunately, it was his to lose. I got pretty much everything else, but my dad willed the bar to Benedict, who really is a natural at running it. Or was. Now it’s owned by a human.”

“What about the playground?”

He blew out a breath. “Handled as best we could. The transfer of ownership didn’t take place until this morning. We had crews working all night. They drained the water, turned off everything except the automatic lights for the plants and the drip system, and reconfigured the entrance. Now it looks like a blank wall instead of the door that used to be there.”

“Will the plants be okay?”

“Should be. I certainly can’t let them die. For one thing, it would make one hell of a mess under there.”

Giselle couldn’t even imagine. “Can you buy it back?”

“Not today, but I plan to keep trying. I spent the entire morning over at the Moon making offers that would give my CFO cardiac arrest if he knew. Dalton wouldn’t budge. He said that having a Cartwright property next to the Silver Crescent was too painful for him after his father’s death.”

“I suppose it was.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Benedict hated seeing a Dalton property next to the Moon. He thought he’d win and we’d get the Silver Crescent back.”

“This is horrible, Vaughn.” She wondered how this would affect the alpha’s relationship with his twin brother. “Where’s Benedict, now?”

“I don’t know. He supervised the work last night and let me know it was secure, but I haven’t heard from him since. Turns out I’m not the only one with family issues, though. Before I left the bar this morning, Dalton’s little sister, Cynthia, showed up and they got in a huge fight. She told him she was disappearing for a while so she could spend quality time with her new boyfriend, who happens to be someone you know and love.”

“Good Lord.” Giselle squeezed her eyes shut. “Are you saying the new boyfriend is my brother?”

“’Fraid so.”

She groaned and let her head fall back against the plump chair cushion. “I’ll take you up on that drink, Vaughn. And forget the girly stuff. Give me a Scotch on the rocks.”

After the embarrassingly public fight with Cynthia, Luke retreated to the office of his recently acquired bar and shut the door. She’d obviously thought that after he won the bar he’d be in a celebratory mood and would magnanimously agree to hire her as a Moonbeam. She’d figured wrong, but arguing with her had taken the shine off his poker victory. She was basically the only family he had left, and he yearned to make peace with her. But she seemed determined to ruin her life, and he felt an obligation to try to prevent that.

She’d never totally cut out on him before, and he hated the feeling of being disconnected without any idea of where she was. But he dared not follow his first instinct and scour the town looking for her.

She hadn’t said where she was going, obviously on purpose, but he didn’t think she’d leave the city. She’d always preferred her hometown to travel. She hadn’t liked being so far away during her college years, and she’d flown home every chance she got.

If he went looking for her, though, and she realized he was after her, she might take off for parts unknown, especially if Landry was encouraging her. Worry sat like a cold, hard lump in his stomach. She was twenty-two, an adult, but when he thought of the bad decisions he’d made at that age, the knot of worry got bigger.