Free Hard to Hold by Karen Foley Page B

whether he’d find Maddie at the craps or the blackjack tables, when some instinct made him look across to the far side of the casino. There was no mistaking her glorious hair or the body sheathed in shimmering gold. She was speaking with one of the security personnel, and even as Colton began to thread his way through the crowd, the man opened a heavy, ornately carved door and waved her through.
    Colton reached the door less than a minute later, but before he could push it open, he found his way blocked by a granite slab of a man who put a restraining hand on his arm. Colton’s first instinct was to throw the hand off. Instead, he gave the guard a chilling look.
    “Is there a problem?” He knew his voice was unfriendly, bordering on rude, but he was too impatient to be polite.
    The man removed his hand, but Colton didn’t miss how he stepped forward just enough to prevent him from gaining access to the room beyond.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” the guard said, looking anything but apologetic. “This is a private gaming salon.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning we require our guests to adhere to a certain...standard.” His gaze dropped meaningfully to Colton’s black T-shirt and jeans. When he met Colton’s eyes, his own were courteous but implacable. “However, we do have a boutique here in the casino that carries menswear, sir.”
    Colton gave a bark of disbelieving laughter and ran a hand over his hair. “Great,” he muttered. He could have pulled out his badge and insisted on gaining entry as a U.S. marshal, but the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. He wouldn’t risk Madeline making a run for it. With a stifled curse, he spun on his heel and strode away.
    Twenty minutes and several hundred dollars later, he returned to the private salon. The henchman guarding that sacred portal gave him a swiftly assessing look, taking in the black dress shirt beneath the black sports jacket, and then stepped back to open the door for him.
    Inside the private salon, Colton quickly scanned the opulent room, noting the distinct difference between the clientele here and the touristy gamblers in the outer casino. This was a high-stakes salon, a fact evident in everything from the expensive designer clothing of the customers to the richly luxuriant furnishings. As he strolled through the room, he knew he was being scrutinized, both by the pit bosses and by the hidden cameras that fed the monitors located in the secluded back rooms of the casino.
    He accepted a Scotch and soda from an elegant hostess and sipped it leisurely as he made his way from one crowded table to the next, seemingly trying to decide where to throw his money away.
    He spotted Madeleine at one of the blackjack tables and nearly choked on his drink. She had a man on either side of her, and while one leaned down to whisper into her ear, the other stroked her shoulder in a manner that could only be called proprietary. For her part, Madeleine was laughing in delight as she flashed each of them coquettish glances and playfully considered her cards.
    If Colton hadn’t seen the transformation for himself, he’d never have believed her capable of such behavior. There was no trace of a tomboy or damsel in distress in the creature who sat perched at the gaming table, her breasts displayed to full advantage by the plunging neckline of the dress she wore. The short skirt revealed a long expanse of slender thigh, and Colton’s fingers tightened around his glass.
    She hadn’t seen him. He moved away from the table and took a seat at the nearby bar, turning to watch her as she played. She commanded attention. Even the dealer seemed entranced by her throaty laughter and flirtatious looks. A small crowd of people had gathered around the table to watch, and Madeleine played to them like an expert.
    Colton also noticed she had a growing pile of chips on the table in front of her, and although she occasionally lost a hand, he realized she was winning significantly