Betting on Both

Chapter 1-2-1

"New Orleans? Are you serious?" Cole Harrison shook his head. "Who did I tick off to get this assignment?" He glared at David Keller, his boss. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. Look at it as a final test." They were in his office, perched atop one of the McMaster buildings in New York City. "I've already arranged for a team to meet you there, help you revamp the personnel, update the security systems. You take point, take care of Kat McMaster, and she'll take care of you. Do your job and in six months I'll get you out of there. Prove yourself and you'll be able to write your own ticket anywhere within the organization. Las Vegas, Atlantic City, overseas, you name it."

"But she's—"

"She's a McMaster," David snapped. "Her last name is on your paycheck every week. So don't underestimate the importance of getting this right. Stay the course, keep her safe." He eyed Cole, forehead furrowed with curiosity. "What's your problem?"

Cole shook his head. "I'm tired of babysitting the high rollers and the misbehaving big names who want to have fun but not get caught by the tabloids." He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers scratching over the skin. "I've smuggled my share of 'escorts' down the stairwells and given them a wad of cash before putting them in limos. I've made sure photographers didn't get the money shot because someone forgot to wear their underwear; jostled their arms and bumped cameras to the ground. This is more of the same and I'm worn out."

"I understand. But her rebellious days seem to be behind her and you shouldn't have to deal with any of that. Look, you're damned good at your job and I need the best on this. And that would be you." David looked at the file. "She's always had a team around her but it's also been on McMaster territory. This is a new hotel in a new city and we can't risk anyone taking a run at her." He pointed at Cole. "Which is why I need you there. Stay close, be her shadow. Do your time and I promise you a transfer to the Belle Dame or any other McMaster location you want once the job's done."

Cole stayed quiet, keeping the biggest reason he didn't want to be Kat McMaster's bodyguard secret.

He'd seen the pictures in her file. The tabloid images from a few years ago, the bedsheet barely covering her creamy white skin as she laughed with her peers and waved at the camera. The long brown hair falling over her breasts, the makeshift toga loose on her slender form. The playful blue eyes calling to him to be very, very naughty.

The most recent personnel files showed she hadn't lost any of her appeal, the official photograph of her wearing a business suit and holding a clipboard failing to detract from his initial flush of desire upon seeing her earlier pictures.

The woman was, in a word, gorgeous.

It'd be easier if she was a wobbly old senior, using her walker to get around. Instead Kat McMaster had to be a hot, available woman who not only possessed a fabulous body but a sharp mind to match.

He'd be around a woman he couldn't touch, a stray thought away from dropping his guard and putting her in danger.

"You leave in three days—I'll send you the personnel list, let you check it over. Transfer in who you want, you've got total authority on this. Don't worry." David smiled. "She'll be locked up in her office trying to resurrect a dead hotel and casino. How much trouble can she get into?"

A few days later…

Cole held back a growl as he studied the planes lined up on the tarmac. The only plane he wanted to be on was one going straight to Vegas and to the job he should have running the Belle Dame security department. Instead he was waiting for his new charge to arrive, fashionably late and setting them behind schedule. All he wanted was to get to New Orleans and this assignment. The faster it started, the faster it'd be over.

And Katherine McMaster would be out of his life forever.

"So you're my new babysitter."

The soft voice cut through the residual noise around him, snapping him to attention.

He turned around.

The brunette walking toward him was exactly what he'd expected. The short white dress tight in all the right places, and with a swooping crescent in front, highlighting a cleavage a man could joyfully die in. The loud, glittering jewelry adorning every inch of skin along with a set of expensive sunglasses. Her long hair was pulled into a ponytail, the edges brushing the small of her back.

A man followed close behind, juggling three suitcases.

"I'm Cole Harrison." He tilted his head. "Head of your security detail."

His pulse shot skyward as she lowered her sunglasses and scanned him, a touch of a smile on her lips. She dragged her eyes over his body, hovering at his waist just long enough to send a delicious flash of heat through his groin.

He couldn't help but do the same.

It was hard not to devour her with his eyes, his libido already drawing up suggestions for some naughty dream fantasies in the future.

After a long minute she nodded. "You'll do." Kat glided up the steps and into the plane. "Let's get the hell out of here."

The luggage carrier chuckled as he handed off the suitcases to the nearby handler. "Got a winner there, buddy. Good luck."

Cole scowled and boarded the jet.

They'd been in the air a good half-hour before he approached the back of the plane where Kat sat, sipping on what he assumed to be champagne. The window shade was up and she seemed to be studying the clouds.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

"If you're not busy, I thought we'd lay out the rules of engagement." He sat opposite her, noting her unwavering stare. "That way everything'll be clear when we get to the hotel."

"Let's." She raised her glass and waved the steward over, jingling the ice cubes. "A drink for my big, tough man here. And more club soda for me."

Cole held back his surprise at her drink choice.

The man hovered over them, waiting for instructions.

"Coffee. Black. Thank you." Cole turned his attention back to Kat. "You understand I'm here to protect you. Keep you safe from harm." He glanced at the small airplane window. "There's going to be an entire team there monitoring your movements and standing guard, but I'm in charge. You have any issues, any problems, any requests regarding security, you talk to me. I'll be with you every place you go; every shopping trip, every nightclub, every time you step off of the hotel grounds. Your suite will have a connecting door to my own room." He paused. "If you wish to entertain, I'll need to vet the person or persons before you'll be allowed to have them in your room."

Her eyes locked with his with laser intensity. "I see. Well, I suspect you'll be bored stiff." She nodded at the steward as he returned with the drinks. "I had my wild time and that's in the past. I plan to spend most of my time in the office trying to figure out how to get the Majestic back on top. If it means working late, and overtime, I'm prepared to do that. And I don't plan to have any visitors in my suite or in my bed." Kat smiled. "Sorry if I'm not meeting your expectations. I'm not the party girl you saw in the tabloids a few years ago."

He took the coffee and thanked the server. "There's plenty of reasons to have me around that aren't associated with your indiscretions in university. You're one of the heirs to a fortune and it makes you a target. I'll be there if you need me."

"And what qualifies you for that honor?" Kat sipped her refreshed drink. "A few self-defense courses at your local gym?"

"Two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan." Cole resisted the urge to shrug off his suit jacket and unbutton his shirt to display his battle scars. "Ground pounder. I'll be able to take care of you."

Her eyes dropped to his chest, studying him again. "Indeed. We'll see about that."

Kat resisted the urge to hold her breath. The man was hotter than hot.

The toned muscles under his shirt showed his excellent physique, the way he carried himself evidence he'd done his time in the military. She could have checked his résumé but his alert status said it all. The way his eyes scanned the area around her, behind her as she strolled up to the plane—how he evaluated the man carrying her luggage, assessing him as a possible security risk.

This wasn't a rented wannabee cop looking for a free ride and all the ass he could grab.

This man was a professional from the top of his short cropped brown hair to his polished black shoes.

He was also damned handsome. The buzz cut actually added to his features with his piercing blue eyes and strong jawline making her feel safer just by his presence. He gave off an aura of security, a buffering zone around him of comfort and control.

And yet...

Kat felt a dangerous shiver sneak up her spine, a frisson of desire stroking her insides as she imagined what he'd be like unleashed. What lay under that sharply ironed white shirt; what did he hide under those black pants? What was Cole Harrison like when he wasn't in charge, when he wasn't in control?

Kat forced herself to look away from him before her focus went elsewhere, places she didn't dare let it go.

She had work to do and none of it involved rolling the sexy bodyguard. He might be a distraction for a night but she didn't have the luxury of thinking about that—not now.

She reached over and pulled the window shade down before opening her laptop and focusing in on the business she had to save if she wanted to get out of New Orleans.

The image of a riverboat flashed on the screen, the old-style paddle fixed in place and useless. It had been a legitimate working vessel once upon a time, but now it'd been gutted from the inside out and renovated to hold as many gambling machines and gaming tables as possible. Two floors with a dance club at one end, a live entertainment venue.

Kat tried not to look at Cole. He'd be spending a lot of time there, making sure the staff knew what to look for and keeping them honest. His responsibilities weren't only to stand around and take care of her; he'd be in charge of revamping the security system and making sure both the hotel visitors and the gamblers were protected in every way possible.

The outside of the riverboat was gaudily painted in a series of red, orange, white and blue with Christmas tree lights strung from stem to stern. She cringed, making a note to start shuffling paint designs immediately. While wild color schemes might enhance the appeal of some places, this wasn't one of them.

It was her job to make it beautiful again, appealing to the tourists who wanted a bit of New Orleans magic and hoped Lady Luck would reach down and tap them on the shoulder.

Next to it sat a beautiful building, or it had been in its prime. The Majestic had begun life as a hotel servicing those who traveled the waterways, but like the paddleboat, it had fallen into disrepair over the decades and now was only a shadow of its old Southern legacy. Since people began deciding to spend their money at newer, more modern hotels and casinos, the Majestic had slipped to the bottom of the list for visitors to New Orleans. A brief computer search showed single-star reviews on the review sites, most of the complaints mentioning the lack of enthusiasm from the staff and lousy decor.

The building stood only ten stories high, short compared with the other hotels competing for visitors. The room occupancy was in single digits and it'd been an act of charity to keep the full staff on since McMaster purchased the hotel a month ago.

Kat studied the images of the hotel lobby, the worn furniture and sagging chairs making her wince. Faded red curtains hung everywhere, covering what she suspected was peeling paint and wallpaper. Pictures of landscapes hung in old wooden frames, most of them not even depicting New Orleans.