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and she wasn’t about to hang round in the ladies’ room all night waiting for her. Impatiently she stubbed out her cigarette and re-entered the casino. The room was still packed with people gambling their lives away. As she walked through the throngs, she glanced over at the blackjack table where she’d first spotted Andy Dale. He was no longer there, and Jenna was nowhere in sight.

Oh, shit! It wasn’t her fault–all she’d done was point him out, and she’d told Jenna to hurry back. Too bad if the ditz couldn’t follow instructions.

‘Where’s my wife?’ Vincent demanded as soon as she returned to the table.

‘Playing the slots, I think,’ Jolie murmured vaguely, sliding into the booth.

‘Jenna doesn’t play,’ Vincent said. ‘You’re the one who’s into that.’

‘And I didn’t feel like it tonight,’ she answered coolly.

‘You left her in the casino by herself?’

‘I’m not her keeper, Vincent.’

He glared at her, his eyes hard.

‘Maybe she bumped into a friend,’ Nando offered.

‘If she bumped into a friend, she’d bring whoever it was to the table,’ Vincent said, getting up. ‘I’ll be back.’

Nando shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he mumbled, not happy about his partner’s reaction to the deal he’d suggested. What was so terrible about hookers and drugs? They were a Vegas tradition. Besides, everyone else made money with them. Why shouldn’t they? Vincent could be so uptight.

As soon as Vincent was out of earshot, Nando turned to his wife. ‘So where is she?’ he asked.

Jolie picked up her champagne glass and took a sip. ‘She spotted Andy Dale and went running over to him. I couldn’t stop her.’

‘Damn! Vin’s gonna beat the shit out of him,’ Nando warned. ‘The kid makes a living with his face. How’s he gonna look with a broken jaw and nose and three black eyes?’

‘Three black eyes?’ Jolie said, laughing.

‘You know what I mean,’ Nando said irritably.

Jolie tapped her long, silver-painted nails on the table. ‘Why are you in a bad mood?’ she asked.

‘’Cause Vincent drives me loco,’ Nando replied. ‘Could be our partnership has gone on long enough.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Jolie scoffed. ‘You love each other. You’re as close as brothers.’

‘Yeah,’ Nando said grimly. ‘An’ sometimes one brother’s gotta move outta the house before they slit each other’s throats.’

After a lot of screaming and shouting, Sofia was getting nowhere with the concierge, who was now threatening to call the police.

‘Call ’em!’ she yelled directly into his face. ‘I want you to. I’m begging you to.’

At which point a man appeared in the lobby–a tall, well-dressed man in an expensive suit who spoke both English and Spanish.

‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, with only the slightest of accents.

‘You bet your ass there’s a problem,’ Sofia said, her voice rising.

‘Please explain. Perhaps I can be of assistance.’

So she told him her story and, without hesitation, he immediately took command of the situation. He removed his jacket and draped it round her shoulders while urging her to calm down.

‘I nearly killed myself escaping from those two assholes upstairs,’ she spluttered. ‘Tell this moron to come with me so I can collect my purse without getting attacked again.’

Calmly the man explained things to the concierge, who reluctantly agreed to accompany Sofia upstairs. ‘Will you come too?’ she asked the tall stranger. ‘I need protection.’

‘If you think it’s necessary.’

‘Oh, yes, I do.’

The three of them got into the elevator and rode upstairs in silence. When they reached the penthouse, Sofia began hammering on the door with her fists.

Eventually Paco opened the door, security chain firmly in place.

‘You fucks are lucky I’m not suing your asses,’ she yelled. ‘I had to jump out the fucking window to get away from you two perverts. How do you think that will look in court?’

Paco responded in Spanish, gesticulating wildly. She didn’t understand a word he was saying.

‘Where is your purse?’ the man from the lobby asked.

‘In there,’ she said, pointing past Paco into the living room.

The man spoke to Paco in Spanish. Whatever he said was obviously effective, because before she knew it, the other would-be rapist appeared at the door with her purse, shoved it through the crack and slammed the door shut.

‘What did you say to them?’ she asked. ‘Did you tell them they’re a couple of sick fucks who deserve to have their dicks cut off?’

‘What language!’ the tall man said, taking her arm and guiding her back to the elevator.

‘You try jumping out of a window and staying calm,’ she fumed. ‘I’m lucky I didn’t kill myself.’

The elevator reached the lobby and they all stepped out. The concierge practically ran back to the reception desk, anxious to be rid of them.

‘Do you have somewhere to stay?’ the man asked.

‘Of course I do,’ she said scornfully. ‘God! Morons like that should be locked up.’

‘Perhaps I can drive you to your home.’

‘That’s okay,’ she said, handing him back his jacket. ‘I’ll call a cab.’

‘Haven’t you had enough drama for one night?’

‘Hmm,’ she said reluctantly. ‘If you’re sure you won’t attack me in the car, ’cause you can see what happens to people who get on my bad side.’

‘Yes, I can see that,’ he said, slightly amused.

‘Who are you, anyway?’ she asked.

‘Gianni,’ he replied. ‘Gianni Ruspeli.’

‘Oh, God! You’re that famous Italian dress-designing guy,’ she said. ‘The one who makes those cool jeans. I thought you looked familiar.’

He laughed drily. ‘We prefer to call it couture. And the jeans are merely a lucrative amusement.’

‘Okay, couture. Whatever that means.’

‘And you are…?’

‘Sofia.’

‘Ah…Sofia. A beautiful name for a wild beauty.’

‘I’m not wild and I’m not a beauty. I’m merely pissed off.’

‘Then being pissed off, my dear, agrees with you.’

He slipped the concierge some money and they stepped outside. Parked kerbside was a gleaming black Bentley. A uniformed driver stood at attention, holding the door open for them.

‘You’ll hate me, ’cause I’m about to drip all over your upholstery,’ she said, climbing gingerly into the car.

‘Lucky upholstery,’ he murmured, getting in beside her.

‘Wow! A guy who doesn’t go ape-shit over his wheels. That’s a first.’ She settled back into the luxurious leather

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