Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite)
curves and their eyes wide open.” Luke’s voice was a deep rumble. “A woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. That’s pretty damn sexy.”
    He leaned forward, reaching out with long fingers to pluck a piece of plaster from her hair. His hand stilled. His lips pursed. His eyes darkened slightly, turning a deep moss green. Was it just another trick of the light? Or lust?
    Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders, then around the back of her neck. He drew her toward him. Then he kissed her, softly. On the lips.
    She moved forward, leaning into him as though her body had a mind of its own. She clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms, to regain some semblance of control. But she didn’t stop the kiss. His lips pressed against hers in a way that should have just been nice. Comfortable. The kiss shouldn’t have set off a series of explosions throughout her body.
    But it did.
    Oh, Lord, how that man could kiss.
    …
    Five minutes later, Luke leaned back in his seat, watching the night whip past him as Glory kept her foot glued to the accelerator, sending the Vanquish zooming down the highway. Kissing Glory was a bad idea, no matter how good it made him feel. He shouldn’t be thinking about the feel of her mouth against his, the taste of beer on her lips, and the soft way she’d pressed her body against his. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kissing her all over again. Reaching across the small space and tracing her cheek with his fingers, pulling her against him. He forced himself to take a deep breath.
    The car had been stopped. He hadn’t recognized the neighborhood, but his phone was still in his pocket. He should have told Glory to get out, should have given her enough money for the plane ride home, and should have put her in a cab before driving the Aston Martin back to his place. He should have called a cab and gone to the nearest police station so he could make a report of the kidnapping. He should have locked himself behind a fortress of steel and a wall of gun-toting muscle while the professionals investigated.
    His entire life he’d made the smart move, always playing things safe.
    But he was still in the car. Barreling away from Las Vegas in his now beat-up Vanquish with a twinge in his neck and a wild woman next to him in the front seat.
    Probably still being chased by Tiffanette and her hired muscle.
    He frowned, his thoughts moving back to the holdup. Why had Tiffanette brought muscle? Luke hadn’t brought any kind of security to the game last night, such as the armed driver who usually escorted him around, or the guards with guns who watched his back when he walked the casino floors.
    But he never took security with him to the private poker games. Those were his nights to be Just Luke. Not Luke Morrison.
    Something was off here. This was the first time Tiffanette had shown up to the game, but she’d come prepared. Not with a rough sketch of an idea, but with a carefully crafted plan. And that plan had ultimately been to kidnap him.
    But how had she known he’d be without a guard? Who would have given her the information? The game was quiet, but it wasn’t exactly a secret. New people showed up all the time. But the only people who knew he’d be there without a guard were regulars like Bone, Chester, and Grant.
    And a few of his employees. Erick Roberts, his head of construction. David Tanner, his head of security. His chauffeur.
    The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. One of them had to have helped Tiffanette. No way had she planned this job alone. The woman was intelligent and driven, but only people with deep, dark connections partnered up with men who wore Kevlar, drove black SUVs, and shot guns as big as his biceps.
    As smart as the showgirl was, there was no way she was that connected. That heist hadn’t been about the money. He’d been the ultimate target. Anger ate at his gut.
    He needed to figure out what was going on. Needed time to think. Time to

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