“Smoke bombs?” Drake demanded in disgust as he watched the pink flumes—seriously, pink—drift just outside of the vault door. No one had breached the casino’s vault. The guards there had panicked when they saw the smoke. They’d been the ones to pull that alarm and get the whole security team mobilized.
“Looks like they were on a timer,” Chad Thatcher, Drake’s chief of security said as he lifted one of the little, pink smoke bombs. It wasn’t smoking anymore. “Real clever device…looks handmade.” The guy’s tone was admiring.
Drake didn’t exactly feel admiration. “Someone tried to break into my vault.”
Chad’s lips twisted as he eyed the three nervous guards who’d pulled the alarm. “Not with this thing. This is a prank. Not a threat.” Chad would know threats. Drake had recruited the man because of his diverse background. Swat Team leader. Undercover police officer. Bomb squad technician.
Yeah, Chad knew his bombs. Very well.
Chad tossed the little device lightly in his hands. “Someone was messing with you guys,” he told the flushing guards.
Drake looked around the room. The other security team members were all starting to relax. The core team had been called in—his strongest men and women, but other guards were still positioned throughout the casino. Just not as many as he normally had at the Arrow. “A distraction,” Drake realized as his gaze turned back to Chad.
Chad’s fingers closed around the device. The smile left his face. “No one is stealing your money,” Chad said. “We’re right here. No one is getting past us.”
Drake whirled away from him. Sexy jewel thief. “That’s because she’s busy stealing something else.” Dammit, he should have known better. A pretty face could hide the best lies.
He ran for the elevator. “Get a lockdown in place!” Drake shouted over his shoulder. “The redhead I took upstairs earlier—Jasmine—she doesn’t leave the premises.”
There was no way that woman was going to escape from him.
***
Jasmine backed away from the computer. She knew time was running out and she had to make her exit.
The thick carpeting swallowed the sounds of her footsteps. She reached for the door handle.
Only it didn’t turn beneath her hand.
Jasmine jerked it harder. No give at all. He locked me in? She hadn’t exactly counted on that part. And she was sure looking at a maximum lock, too, not the easy pick-me-in-a-moment variety.
Hell.
Drake’s image flashed before her mind. Stay here. We’re not done. Not even close.
The only window in that place overlooked the club. It wasn’t like she could jump through it.
Her fingers skimmed over the lock once more. She’d wrangled the invitation up to this room because she knew that guards watched the entrance to this private lounge. The only way up to the area was Drake’s elevator and once up there, she would’ve had to contend with the lock. If she’d stopped to work her wiles on the lock in order to gain entrance, a guard would’ve seen her.
But the guards are distracted, and I’m not on the outside. So she should be able to finesse that lock, no problem.
It was an electronic lock after all. She’d always had a knack for working electronics.
A few seconds later, the lock slid open. “Piece of cake,” Jasmine murmured as she slid her little packet of tools back into place on her ankle once more. Her fingers slipped around the door knob. The door opened with a soft click.
Jasmine grinned. She pulled open the door—and found herself staring right up into a pair of glinting green eyes. Very, very, angry green eyes.
“Going somewhere?” Drake drawled. Ah, there it was. The hint of the south, Mississippi if she wasn’t mistaken, rolled beneath those two words.
Her heartbeat sounded like a drum in her ears. “I was coming to find you.”
He smiled at her. She did not like that smile. Goosebumps rose onto her arms.
He stepped forward.
Jasmine fell back.
“There’s something you should know about me,” Drake said as he took another stalking step toward her.
Jasmine found herself retreating again even as her chin notched up.
Stupid move. She had to learn how to control that chin move.
He shut the door behind him. “I don’t like liars, Jasmine.”
I am so screwed. “Neither do I.”
“I fucking hate betrayal.”
Oh, crap.
His hands lifted. His hold was hard and tight as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her up against him. “Who the hell are you?”
“You’re scaring me.” Total truth there. A lot of Drake’s past had been shrouded in secrecy, and when she started searching online in order to learn more about him, she’d come across some strong government security measures. She could’ve hacked past the red tape, of course, but she hadn’t wanted to raise too many flags with Uncle Sam—or anyone else who might have been watching.