Bet Me : The Ace/the Joker/the Wildcard

by Debra Webb; Catherine Mann; Joanne Rock

• ISBN13: 9780373837151
• ISBN10: 0373837151
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2007-08-07
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

They don't call Vegas Sin City for nothing. And now that prime tourist season is around the corner, it's time to kick some criminal butt. Enter three full-throttle Vegas detectives, ready to eat their undercover assignments alive.... Clarissa Rivers can't believe she's got to play fake maid to weasel her way into some of the city's dirtiest criminal activities. But pretend she'shitched,too? Meanwhile, Kim Wong is all over her undercover sting operation at the Great Wall Casino. Only problem: an old boyfriend's got intel on Kim's secret royal past. And Dorian Byrne is posing as a high-class call girl to take down a sex crimes ring. But what's with her wild-card FBI partner? High-rolling scoundrels better watch their backs this weekend, because one wrong move and all bets are off....

Excerpts

Free Throw Casino Hotel Room 2119"SLOB," CLARISSA MUTTERED as she picked up the jeans from the floor.Versace.She shook her head. Didn't this guy have better things to do with his money? Give her Levi's any day of the week. She had cleaned the bathroom already. Made the bed and dusted the elegant mahogany furnishings. But she couldn't vacuum without running the risk of sucking up something that cost more than a month's salary. This Mr. Jennings was a total slob. Clothes, all male, were scattered around as if he'd been in a mad frenzy to peel them off. Jeans, faded and well worn despite their designer label, plain white cotton tee and a navy silk jacket that seemed mismatched with the rest. Oh, and let's not forget the handmade Italian leather loafers. Clarissa forced herself to neatly fold the articles of clothing and place them on the ornate credenza that served as a dresser. Some renegade brain cell made her go momentarily stupid and she sniffed the T-shirt. An earthy male scent all but overwhelmed by cheap women's perfume and not-socheap champagne. Clarissa was surprised she hadn't found female clothing tangled in the sheets. Clearly this guy had had company last night. She tucked the overpriced shoes next to the closet door, and then dusted her hands in finality. All she had to do was vacuum and she was out of here. Hopefully by now--she glanced at her wristwatch--some of the high rollers on her watch list would be up and around. So far, all three of her most likely suspects had been piled up in bed with the do-not-disturb signs out--even at 10:00 a.m. She scratched her side through the stiff uniform. God, she was going to be covered in hives before lunch at this rate. Calamine lotion loomed in her future. After plugging in the vacuum, she switched it on and got down to business. It was hard to believe half the morning was gone already and she hadn't even gotten close to the first suspect on her list. Sergio Fuentes, BogotA, Colombia. Mark Weldon, Houston, Texas. Rita Russo, Miami, Florida. Those were the three VIPs that had tripped LVMPD's radar upon arrival in Sin City. All were suspected of illegal activities in their home territories. Then, of course, there was Shannon Bainbridge, the woman in charge of high-rollers gambling at the Free Throw. Clarissa suspected that Bainbridge coordinated everything on this end, but that was only a suspicion. She needed evidence. Floors twenty-one through twenty-six were the ones of interest to Clarissa. Twenty-one through twenty-four were VIP guest suites, like this one. Twenty-five was dedicated solely to VIP gambling, with only four suites reserved for the crAme de la crAme of guests. The penthouse and a couple of select, private playing rooms were on twentysix. Fuentes, Weldon and Russo were all playing on twenty-five and twenty-six. Playing on twentyfive was a perk of being a guest on the upper floors. Getting to twenty-six required a personal invitation by a member from one of the few tables in those private rooms. Clarissa didn't see that happening for her, but she would get as close as possible. She wasn't allowed to enter the penthouse floor without invitation and a scheduled time, not even to make the bed. Basically all she had to do was prove Bainbridge was involved and Clarissa felt confident the woman would spill her guts. Clarissa could type up her final report and win this bet. She would be seriously ready for some R & R after wearing this damned uniform for seventy-two hours. Between the itching and the less-than-comfortable thigh holster this assignment was not going to be a pleasant one. Not to mention she had little use for the high-roller types. She'd had far too much firsthand experience with the absurdly wealthy growing up. Clarissa shook off the thought before it could take root and spo