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GENEVIEVE
After two hours of playing the role of dutiful fiancée over dinner, Genevieve wanted to scream. A heavy three-carat diamond she hated now occupied her left ring finger, and she’d let Jed slide it on without protest—because why fight him until she actually could? He seemed to conclude she’d accepted her fate in his arms. Like hell! Apparently, she was a better actress than she thought.
Jed led her out of his hotel’s most elegant French restaurant toward the noisy casino floor. She yawned, blinking her eyes awake.
He chuckled. “You behaved well at dinner. Head on upstairs to your room now and get some beauty sleep.”
She nodded, relieved to finally receive his dismissal, no matter how dominant. “Good night, Jed.”
Jed kissed her cheek. “Good night, dove.” He tapped an index finger to her nose. “Until we’re married, that is. Then you’ll move into my penthouse and sleep by my side as promised. Dream of me.”
Genevieve forced a smile. “I will.”
She turned, rolled her eyes, and rounded the corner. Her heels clicked on the brown-and-white marble walkway as she angled for the elevators. A robust drunk man reeking of bourbon bumped into her, pawing his unwelcome hands up the front of her lavender gown. She elbowed him in the ribs, earning a pained yelp from him before accidentally slipping on her white strappy heels.
Killian grabbed her before she face-planted, wedging his body between her and the drunk man. “Are you all right, Ms. Genevieve?”
An adrenaline rush surged through her, tickling her skin. “Yes, I’m fine.”
The drunk man staggered back and swayed, flashing her a toothy smile. Killian snagged the man’s wrist and bent his arm behind his back. The man cried out in agony, writhing and punching to no avail.
“Let me get rid of the vermin and finish punishing his ribs for you, Ms. Genevieve. Would you like me to alert Marshal so he can teach him a proper lesson as well?”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.”
Killian dipped his head in assent. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me here.”
“Of course.” …I won’t! Can I run? She feigned irritation at the man who might actually be her savior while Killian walked him toward the exit. Yeah, right, run in three-inch heels? Why didn’t I wear running shoes? Because Jed would have noticed, that’s why.
“I don’t know, boss,” Roman’s loud voice erupted from around the corner.
“They’re your men,” Jed yelled. “She’s practically the age of a grandma. How did they lose her?”
Genevieve’s face split into a wide grin.
“Find her, Roman. Genevieve can’t know about this. Not a word until Roxy is back in her room.”
Oh my gosh, her mom was amazing. She’d been crafty enough to escape before her own daughter, paving the way to their freedom.
“Lock her up,” Jed bellowed, “throw away the key, and slide her food in through a hole in the wall for all I care. I just need the woman contained until Genevieve signs our marriage license. Once her name is mine and I plant a kid inside her, she’ll never break free. Ace, have someone call the event department and move our wedding up to tomorrow.”
Genevieve glanced at the main entrance’s large golden doors about fifty yards away, straight through a bustling section of slot machines. Could she make it? Past Killian and the guards by the door? Not likely. Every security guard in The Outlaw would know her face and have instructions to capture her if she attempted to escape. She pivoted toward the card tables with plans to blend in with the crowd, peel off her heels, and run for a side door.
“Where are you going, Señorita Genevieve?”
Mateo! How could she have forgotten about him?
Genevieve beamed an innocent smile. “Why the restroom, of course.” She flicked her wrist toward the ladies’ room sign. “After that long dinner, I can’t wait another minute.”
“I’ll escort you, Señorita.”
“So thoughtful,” Genevieve forced out through her teeth.
She took her time in the restroom, waiting until a bachelorette party exited and wedged between them. It worked! She reached the casino floor and slid off her heels, tossing them behind a slot machine, only to have Killian wrap a secure hand around her upper arm.
“Ugh,” she groaned. Could she elbow him in the ribs, too?
“Going somewhere, Ms. Genevieve?” Killian flashed her a smug grin.
