Fever. Elaine Overton

play it by ear.”

      There was no point in denying it any longer, Roxie thought, releasing a sigh of relief. The man was obviously not going to give up until his curiosity had been satisfied. Maybe if he had his answer, he would go away and leave her raging hormones in peace. “How did you know?”

      “As unlikely as it seemed, it was the only reasonable explanation.”

      She spread her arms in surrender. “Okay, you got me.”

      Ike fought the urge to step forward and take her into his arms, knowing she had no idea how inviting she looked at that moment.

      “It was a one-time deal. I won’t be back, so why don’t we just call it even, and go our separate ways?”

      Ike quirked an eyebrow. The look in his dark eyes was sheer disappointment as if the thought of never seeing her again was unacceptable. Did she really think he would agree to that?

      “Okay.” He turned as if planning to leave, and paused. “This is the part where I’m suppose to decide you are no threat to the Desert Rose and walk away, right?”

      “I really wish you would, but I doubt it.”

      He shook his head slowly. “Sorry, no deal. I still have too many unanswered questions.”

      “Look, you made it perfectly clear I would not be welcomed back to the Desert Rose again. I got it. Now, you’re free to go off haunting someone else.”

      His full lips tilted up in the corners. “Am I haunting you, Roxie?”

      “What do you call this?”

      “I told you, I’m curious by nature.”

      Roxie studied the man standing before her. Really looked at him for the first time since the previous night. It had not escaped her notice that he seemed to be intentionally keeping a certain distance between them, his attempt to ease her, no doubt.

      His soft, melodic voice could soothe the most troubled soul. And those eyes… Those intense, deep, dark pools seemed to cut right to her very core.

      She sighed in defeat. “Okay, if I answer your questions, will you leave me alone?”

      “If your answers satisfy my curiosity—yes,” Ike answered confidently as he pictured the cage door slam shut behind his victim. And the sweetest part of it was that she didn’t even realize she was caught.

      Roxie looked around the small restaurant. The few tables that were spaciously scattered around the room were covered in floral tablecloths. Each table contained a small bouquet of fresh daisies.

      The guitar player in the corner seemed lost in his own troubles as his fingers strummed a soft ballad Roxie did not recognize. The music was perfectly suited to the dimly lit room as couples engaged in quiet conversation at their respective tables.

      She’d never been here before. Until Ike led her over the stone bridge and down a busy shopping avenue, she’d had no idea such a restaurant existed so close to her place of work.

      Not that it mattered. If she had to guess, the doors probably did not open until the evening was well under way. This was not a business luncheon kind of restaurant. No, everything about the place spoke of a romantic hideaway.

      Tessa often told her that she worked too hard. But then again, Tessa did not understand the environment of her work. When she was on the cusp of discovery it was near impossible to just pack it in and go home. What if the conditions were not the same the next day? Science, like her twin sister Nature, was extremely unpredictable.

      Roxie twisted her lips as she wondered why Ike had chosen this particular setting for his second interrogation. Maybe he thinks this method will be more productive than that dragnet approach he took last time. “Do you come here often?” she asked as the waitress placed a small salad in front of her.

      Ike smirked as if he knew a loaded question when he heard one. “No, not really. The casino takes up so much of my time I usually eat at Thorns.” He sat back, giving the waitress plenty of room to place Roxie’s salad on the table.

      “The casino restaurant? That’s a five-star restaurant. Doesn’t that get expensive after a while?”

      “Not when all your meals are on the house.”

      She frowned as she began cutting the large spinach leaves. Something about this was not adding up. “Is that a usual perk of the job?”

      “Probably not, but neither is the apartment suite I have on the tenth floor.” He chuckled, thinking nothing of the life he took for granted.

      Bobby Kincaid had been his father’s best friend from the time they were boys. Every memory of every special occasion in Ike’s thirty-four years of life included Uncle Bobby standing before him with a gift-wrapped package. So, when Ike left the police force and Bobby offered him the gift of a beautiful apartment suite in his casino resort and a job, Ike accepted it as his birthright. No one had ever questioned it until now.

      When he looked up again, Roxie had stopped eating, and was watching him with suspicious eyes. “Who are you?”

      “What are you talking about?” Ike watched her expressive face shift between fear and anxiety.

      “Why would Bobby Kincaid give an apartment to a security guard?”

      “I’m not a security guard. I’m the head of the casino security task—”

      “You say potato, I say patata—answer the question!”

      “Bobby Kincaid is my godfather.” He watched her face, trying to understand why this was so important to her.

      “Your godfather?”

      Ike had a suspicion confirmed. It wasn’t him she was afraid of, it was Bobby. But why? This couldn’t be about what happened the other night. She’d never even met Bobby, so why was she so scared?

      “I know how difficult counting cards can be, and you made it look like a walk in the park.” Ike spoke suddenly, trying to change the subject and get her mind off of whatever it was about Bobby that was troubling her so. “Hell, half the time it didn’t even seem as if you were paying attention to the table.”

      Bobby Kincaid’s godson. She shrugged, and stabbed at a large hunk of lettuce. “It’s not that difficult when you have a photographic memory.”

      Ike’s mouth spread in a smile of appreciation, and he paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Photographic memory?” His eyes drifted across the table as his mind took in this new information. “That explains a lot.” He finished chewing, reached for a stick of bread from the basket in the center of the table, and took a bite from the end.

      He thought about the heated words exchanged in his office, and he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d been handled by her. Despite all the subtle threats and innuendoes he’d thrown at Roxie, she’d known all along that she was never in any real danger. He looked at the woman across the table from him. “So, how long have you been a professional hustler?”

      Roxie sat back in her chair. She’d been watching his face the entire time, and knew long before his mouth open that something nasty was going to come out. “You probably think that is an insult.”

      “It’s certainly not a compliment,” he mumbled.

      “I guess that depends on who you ask.” Her brown eyes narrowed until they were just slits of topaz fire. “Anyway, I’m not a hustler. At least, not anymore.”

      “But you once were?”

      “When I was a kid.”

      He gave her a disbelieving look.

      “Really. I used to hustle cards when I was a kid.”

      He smirked. “With that memory of yours, you just couldn’t resist the urge, huh?”

      She finished chewing a bit of salad. “Actually, it was more the