He chuckled, deciding he didn’t mind being treated like a sex object if Serena was the one doing it. After checking his cuff links one more time, he turned and offered her his arm to escort her back down the hall. “Well, if you’re satisfied, then I’m satisfied.”
They’d nearly reached the living room when Serena rose on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Later on, I hope we’ll both be satisfied, in bed.”
Damn if that didn’t make him almost trip over his feet. Noah managed to catch himself with a hand on the wall before he face-planted in front of the babysitter, his cheeks hot and his blood pounding in his ears. He barely heard the woman’s name and covered his gaffe with a stern nod of his head. The woman looked about sixty-five and was the epitome of what he thought of as the grandmotherly type. Grey hair pulled back in a bun, kindly smile, even wire-rimmed glasses.
Once the introductions were made and Serena had given the sitter instructions for Gracie’s bedtime, he and Serena headed downstairs to the lavish casino. It was probably good he’d dressed like a secret agent tonight because damn if he didn’t feel like he’d walked onto the set of some international spy movie. From the elegant gaming tables lined up in rows down the huge casino showroom to the crystal chandeliers and carved marble decorations, posh didn’t begin to cover this place. They walked down a flight of stairs into the throngs of impeccably dressed people milling about. He’d been around his share of diplomats and world leaders during his time as a SEAL, but man. He half expected the Queen of England to come walking out at any time.
Noah resisted the urge to fidget in his pricey suit and allowed Serena to guide him toward the high-dollar room. Inside, tables of blackjack and baccarat were interspersed with roulette and other games.
“What do you play?” Serena asked, stopping at the side of the room.
“Poker.” He scanned the area. “See any open seats?”
“There’s one over there.” She pointed to a table across the space. “Go take it.”
“What about you?” he asked, frowning.
“I’m just going to watch for a while,” she said, reaching into her tiny evening bag to pull out a phone she must have bought that day, too. “Actually, I think I’m going to go out and call my brother, Nate. We’re not super close, but I feel like I should talk to him directly after everything that’s happened and let him know I’m okay.”
She’d mentioned her brother once, when she’d asked who’d hired him, but then hadn’t brought the man up again. He'd wondered about that but didn’t want to upset Serena by questioning her after everything she’d already been through. Lord knew he understood dysfunctional families better than most after the mess he’d grown up with. When she was ready, she’d talk to him. Until then, he refused to push.
“Okay,” he said. “Stay where I can see you though, all right?”
She gave him a look. “We’re not in danger anymore.”
“No.” Noah winked. “But I just like looking at you.”
Serena grinned and shook her head, then wandered over to a private corner of the room to make her call while Noah walked over and joined the poker game already in progress. He hadn’t been lying about enjoying looking at her. She was a vision. But he also couldn’t seem to shake that niggle of worry in his gut. It was an occupational hazard and probably nothing. Hell, he’d even talked to Levon and Clint during his tux fitting to confirm that the men responsible for Serena’s kidnapping were behind bars. The danger was over. He also knew she needed time and space for the conversation with her brother. Still, he needed to keep an eye on her for his own reassurance. After he bought in to the pot and got his chips from the dealer, he drew his first hand and checked his cards, his mind only half on the game as he kept glancing over at Serena across the room. Her head was down and her back to him, so he couldn’t read her expression, dammit.
“Sir?” the dealer said. “What’s your play?”
“Uh.” Noah looked at the other players around him, reading them. “I’m in.”
He tossed chips into the pot, then watched each of the other players to learn their tells. His hand was pretty good. Two pairs, aces high, but he needed to lose a few rounds to see what kind of game he was in. Except the longer he sat there, the more concerned he got that something wasn’t right with Serena. At one point, she seemed to throw her hand in the air as if she was exasperated. Was she fighting with her brother? The news of her safety—and upcoming return to the US—should have been a joyful announcement, not something to trigger arguing.
Shouts of triumph went up from another player at his table, and Noah sighed. He’d lost. Again. Going down a few chips didn’t bother him nearly as much as the fact he couldn’t concentrate at all on the game. Maybe coming down here tonight had been a mistake after all. Maybe he should quit and take Serena back up to the room. He cashed in his chips and stood to walk over to her, except…
Shit. She was gone.
Cursing under his breath, he pocketed his receipt to take to
