He looked Patrick in the eye. “Why did you steal from me?”

“Am I going to jail?”

“That depends.”

The boy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mr. Doyle. My dad just lost his job and money’s tight. My parents can’t pay the bills. I try to help but it’s never enough and so much passes through this place. I didn’t think it would be missed. I did the wrong thing. I know I screwed up. I know you’re going to fire me but please don’t send me to jail. My parents need me.”

A kid trying to hold his family together, trying to make decisions in a grown-up world. Liam sympathized in more ways than one. “What did your dad do for a living?”

“He was a janitor at one of the other casinos but he got downsized. He was with them for years. Supervised his own crew.”

He turned to Wade. “Don’t we have an opening at Vice in Facilities?”

“Yep.”

Liam stared at Patrick for a moment then bridged his finger over his lip. “Tell your dad to come to the HR office at Vice tomorrow. I’ll tell the HR manager to expect him.”

The boy stared, then blinked. “What?”

“You can stay, Patrick, but I’m transferring you to a back-office job, one where you won’t have to worry about temptation. We’ll be keeping our eye on you, but it’s still a second chance. Most people wouldn’t get one. What do you say?”

“Hell, yes, sir!”

They shook hands. Or, more accurately, Patrick rang his hand like a dinner bell on the ranch. “Then keep your nose clean. John here will report back to tell me how you’re doing.”

John, who matched Wade in bulk and height, merely nodded at Patrick, which said more than words could.

“Thank you, Mr. Doyle. I promise not to let you down.” He jumped out of his chair and out of the room.

Once the kid was gone, Wade turned to Liam and grinned. “Who’s the softie now? More of your new girlfriend’s influence?” He and John traded laughs at the boss’s expense.

Damn Neanderthals. Liam stood, letting them have their little moment. Maybe he’d screw around with their vacation time to get them back. He stifled his own chuckle at the thought.

As they left the casino, he did wonder about Kate’s influence on him. Jesus, it seemed all he did was wonder about her these days. He checked his watch. It was still early. Maybe he could head back to his condo and sleep for a few hours and then hit the gym. He needed an outlet, needed to get physical with something.

Since tasting Kate yesterday, feeling the rush of her wet pussy, he’d been out of his mind—especially after seeing the look of disappointment in her eyes. Clear as day, her face had fallen because she’d realized she’d liked how he touched her. Him, the big, bad casino owner. On some level, she still saw him as the enemy and she hated herself for being tempted.

Hell, he was tempted too, and with a force that verged on the frightening. Her body had felt right under his fingertips. Her scent was burned into his brain, making him want to keep her naked and fuck her senseless. And her taste. He was still reeling from her particular sweetness. For someone who claimed not to eat sugar, she’d tasted like sugar pie, hot from the oven.

Sugar. She probably thought he used the pet name out of habit with any woman, but he’d only ever used it with her.

He shook his head and banished those images of Kate that would only come back and haunt him later.

Hating that the bothersome redhead had once again drifted into his consciousness, Liam grunted and returned to his waiting car, slamming the door behind him. Damn. Forget sleep. Maybe he’d go straight to the gym after all.

As his driver maneuvered the Escalade through Vegas traffic, Liam stared at the passing sights without really seeing them. Why was he so obsessed with this woman? So she was afraid to submit to him. There were worse things in life, like having Michelle ripped from his arms and out of his existence. Like watching his mother die when he was five years old. Like watching a heart attack kill his father nine years later, then having his stepmom turn on him when he was just a kid, like out of some fucking fairy tale. He’d wallowed in misery for a good part of his life, and was determined no one would ever do it to him again.

And yet the way Kate had looked at him after being so intimate made him feel defeated, as though she thought him no better than a wad of gum under her shoe.

Ah, hell. He needed some perspective. It just hurt because he was hard up. In his quest to get Michelle back, he’d avoided the dating scene, not that he’d felt like it anyway. Now his body was paying him back, making him lust over a woman who equated him with Satan. What was he bloody well thinking?

He was thinking, despite her bruised face and frightened demeanor, that she looked beautiful. Now that he’d had the opportunity to examine her many times, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever thought her anything but beautiful. He could admit that much. With her cheeks flushed in anticipation, she’d been the most ravishing woman he’d ever seen. And she’d wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Yet her face had changed so quickly. She hated herself for staying in a casino hotel, felt she’d betrayed her morals, and she blamed him for all but forcing her into it. Well, she’d have to get over that. If the loan shark had found her home, he’d be able to find her regular haunts. At least under his roof he could have a security detail for her.

He stared out the window as his driver headed back to Vice. A drunk, young woman carrying a pitcher of beer wobbled on the sidewalk nearby. She toppled, spilling the brew all over in front of a frowning, elderly tourist. Sin City at its finest.

Sometimes he was so tired of this place.

Was Kate? Surely a non-gambler couldn’t enjoy living so close to the Strip. As he once again wondered about her opinions, he fought the urge to pound her out of his brain.

Shit, why am I doing this?

Because you want her.

Yes, sheltering Kate at Vice was lunacy. She might implode from indignation alone. Was he just being a Good Samaritan? He’d never pictured himself in the role. Frankly, he’d been too busy trying to stay alive during his formative years. After losing his parents, things had degenerated so badly he’d barely bounced back.

But he had. He was a fighter.

And as a fighter, he’d learned to wear a mantle of distrust around his shoulders. The philosophy served him well, in business and in life. He knew there were few people in this world he could truly count on, at least of those who weren’t on his payroll. After all, he’d been betrayed by so many who were close to him. And the sense of abandonment he’d experienced after losing his parents was unparalleled.

He’d tried to be a good person and do a good thing by temporarily housing Kate. But he knew his motives ran deeper than simple philanthropy. She moved him. She excited him. And he needed to be inside her like he needed food and drink.

So what should a fighter with abandonment issues do? Well, clearly he had to persuade her to give into her own hunger. Because now that Kate was on his turf, he wasn’t letting her go.

By the evening of her second night at Vice, Kate was going stir-crazy. Staring at the same four walls, no matter how exquisite they were, made her break out in hives of restlessness. She needed to have a break from hotel TV programming and room service. She needed to stretch her legs.

Granted, the room service had been spectacular. Even though she’d tried to order the cheapest things on the menu, she’d been dazzled by the quality. The only room service she’d ordered before Vice was at some dingy hotel in Reno, where she’d had the processed chicken fingers with a side of nausea. But at Vice she’d had Angus burgers, freshly-squeezed juice and a breakfast platter of bacon and eggs Benedict that had her salivating just remembering them now. Liam had taken great pains to ensure even the casual fare at Vice was worthy of Michelin stars.