Mediterranean Nights. Penny Jordan

the color of Baltic amber and close-cropped black hair. The fact that he obviously worked out was not lost on her as she tried not to stare at his muscles.

      Kong suddenly barked. Nina turned around to soothe him.

      Scott’s eyes narrowed. He stared at the dog. “What the hell kind of dog is that? It looks like a monkey.”

      “That’s Kong. He’s an affenpinscher. It means monkey terrier.”

      Scott gave the dog a strange look.

      “Are you judging me by my dog?” Nina asked.

      “No,” he replied.

      “Liar.”

      “I have this thing about little dogs.”

      “He has the heart of a lion.” Nina picked him up out of her tote and petted him gently. Kong snuggled against her chest. “And he’s very loyal.”

      Carl had chosen the breed because he felt its personality was similar to hers. His explanation had amused her. That was the man she’d fallen in love with. He’d been sincere, determined and romantic, traits that evaporated later in their marriage. She’d mourned the loss of that man. Fame had killed him and she had been partially responsible for the megalomaniac he’d turned into. His new fame revealed his demons.

      “Have you come up with any plans for your media blitz?” Scott asked.

      Nina grinned at his abrupt change in subject. “I have a few.” She wasn’t quite ready to reveal them. “I want to talk to Miss E. first.”

      “Nothing that’s going to cause security nightmares, right?”

      “Where’s your sense of adventure?” Nina teased. Kenzie turned away to hide her own grin. She’d always said Scott was the serious one and everyone delighted in tweaking him a little bit.

      “I left it in Afghanistan.”

      “Let’s schedule a meeting after I’ve talked to Miss E. Right now I want to look over the hotel and the casino and experience it in all its stages.”

      “Experience away,” he said. “And don’t miss the magic show.”

      Kenzie sighed. “I definitely have that on the agenda.”

      Nina glanced at her friend. “That doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”

      “You haven’t met Marvin the Marvelous.” Scott laughed. He kissed his sister on the cheek. “I’ll catch you later. I’m still unpacking.” He sauntered off.

      Nina found herself watching him cross the pool area and enter the hotel. He looked nice, but he was going to be trouble.

      “That was interesting.” Kenzie stared after her brother, her brow furrowed in thought.

      “What do you mean?”

      “I think my big brother just pulled your metaphoric pigtails.”

      Nina’s eyebrows rose. “I beg your pardon.”

      “I think he likes you.”

      “He thinks my dog is stupid,” Nina scoffed, petting Kong soothingly. Kong licked her chin.

      “He only says stupid things when he likes a girl.”

      “So insulting my dog means he likes me. Is he still in kindergarten?”

      “Don’t get me wrong.” Kenzie shook her head. “He does very well with the ladies—he just doesn’t have them in his life long-term.”

      “Number one, I would never date my best friend’s brother. And number two, I don’t have time.” She deposited Kong back in her purse. “Shall we go on with our tour? I have a hankering to see Marvin the Marvelous.”

      * * *

      After the tour, Nina sat in a corner booth in the bar and made notes on her tablet. Every idea she had she jotted down. She sipped a dirty martini and nibbled on a bowl of pretzels. A bartender wiped down the bar. A cocktail waitress in a short black flamenco-type skirt and white blouse worked her way around the few filled tables.

      The bar was sad in a way. It was all dark woods, Spanish arches and too much space, the kind of bar a person went to when they didn’t want to be bothered. If she were in charge of making it over, she’d decrease the size and make it more intimate. She’d reduce the lighting and put cute little lamps on the tables so that only the people sitting down would be highlighted. She’d make it romantic. Romance could sell anything.

      Chimes from the casino filtered into the bar. She watched a couple at another table. The woman was dressed to kill for two in the afternoon in a low-cut dress, hair pulled to the side over her shoulder and a lipstick that was just too red. The man watched her with avid interest. Nina couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the two of them.

      Scott appeared in the entryway and for a second, Nina’s heart raced. Just looking at him made her tingle all over in a way she’d never felt before.

      Scott saw her and gave her a smile. “Can I join you?”

      Nina nodded even as her gaze wandered back to the woman at the other table.

      He slid into the booth across to her and saw the look on her face. “She’s a hooker. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

      “How can you tell?”

      “She’s wearing stockings and a garter belt. And her body language is very seductive, but practiced. She’s not into him, she’s into his wallet.” Scott signaled a waitress and ordered coffee. “Every woman under twenty-five in this room is a working girl, except for the waitresses.”

      “And how do you know this?” Prostitution was rampant in Los Angeles, but working women were not allowed in her parents’ restaurant. Her father had a sixth sense the moment he saw a woman and knew if she was working or not. Politely, he would ask her to leave.

      “The bartenders get a percentage of their fees.”

      “But prostitution is legal in Nevada.”

      “Only on a county-by-county basis. It’s illegal here in Washoe County. Reno is a no-ho zone.” Scott smiled at the waitress when she set the coffee down in front of him.

      Nina tried not to laugh, but a small chuckle escaped anyway. Scott was a military man and his directness was refreshing. “What are you going to do about it?”

      “For the moment, I’m taking notes, scouting the bartending schools and talking to the Reno PD. See that waitress over there? She’s an undercover vice cop.”

      “I get where you’re coming from and you want to clean this place up...”

      “Before the grand opening,” he interjected.

      “And I get it’s against the law, but aren’t women like her why men come to places like this?”

      “That is a very good question.”

      “Do you have a very good answer for me?” She tilted her head at him.

      “Controlled hedonism.”

      “What do you mean by that?”

      “There has to be a line. And this is the line. Those women and what they do is on the wrong side of the line. I’m not judging what they’re doing, but what they do isn’t going to be allowed to happen here because it reflects badly on this hotel and therefore reflects badly on my grandmother.”

      “You sound just like my dad.” She could hear her father’s voice clearly in her head making the same statement about how people let their standards slip and there went the neighborhood.

      “Is your dad a cop? I thought he owned a nightclub.”

      “He owns a nightclub, but sometimes I think it’s his own personal police state. And he rules his restaurant with an iron martini shaker. By the way,