Amber would have shoved Marshall away, but she knew she’d only set him off and cause more trouble for the stranger who seemed determined to play white knight.

“I don’t see what business it is of yours,” Marshall said, all bluster and machismo.

“I’m making it my business.” Her rescuer shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, flashing a badge. “I heard the lady ask you to keep your hands to yourself. So either you’re deaf or just plain stupid. Care to tell me which?” He shoved the small leather billfold back into his pocket just as fast.

Marshall immediately released his grip on Amber’s arm. “Hey, no harm,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as he took a step back.

“Really?” The other man squared his shoulders, which seemed to grow broader beneath his navy T-shirt. “Why don’t we ask the lady if that’s true. Did he hurt you?” His caring voice softened as he spoke to her, wrapping around her like a warm caress.

She met his gaze. “I’m fine now.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything that might incite more trouble between the men.

Marshall nodded in agreement. “See? Just a lover’s quarrel. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Nothing could be further from the truth. Her goal had been to extricate herself from Marshall. She wasn’t about to let him pull her back in. Or lead her sexy savior to the wrong conclusion about them.

She shook her head. “Actually we are…I mean, we were business partners. But we aren’t anymore,” she said.

The stranger’s blue eyes narrowed. “Then I guess there’s nothing left to discuss, is there?” he pointedly asked Marshall, dismissing him.

Marshall shifted on his feet.

Amber knew no one could make him leave if he wanted to stay, but the stranger had flashed a badge.

So Marshall turned away, but not before sending Amber a warning glance.

He wasn’t finished with her yet.

MICHAEL CORWIN watched the dirtbag walk away, making sure the other man left the casino before turning his gaze toward the beautiful woman he couldn’t help but rescue.

“Are you really okay?” he asked.

She cocked her head to one side. A cascade of blond curls fell over her shoulder as she glanced at him. “I’ll live,” she said wryly. “I could have handled Marshall myself. But thank you for stepping in.” Appreciation and what looked like admiration glittered in her clear blue eyes.

As a detective, it was in his nature to be protective, but as a man he’d been drawn to the alluring woman who’d obviously needed his help. “You’re welcome.”

She studied him intently. “You aren’t a Las Vegas cop, are you?”

He raised an eyebrow at her astute observation. “Boston, Massachusetts. What makes you ask?”

“The accent clearly says you aren’t a local. Marshall would have realized it himself if he’d been composed enough to breathe.” She extended her hand. “I’m Amber. Pleased to meet you.”

“Mike Corwin.” He shook her hand and felt the jolt all the way through his body, settling right in his groin. Unexpected, but not unwanted, he thought. “Do you have a last name, Amber?”

“It’s Rose. Amber Rose.”

He raised an eyebrow at the exotic-sounding name. Added to the short black cocktail dress that draped her slender body, revealing ample cleavage for such a slight woman, he had to admit she made for an enticing package. One he couldn’t ignore if he’d wanted to.

He didn’t.

“I know it’s an unusual name,” she added.

“Actually, I was going to say it sounds like it belongs to a Vegas showgirl. No insult intended.”

Her porcelain skin flushed beneath the tacky casino lighting. She grinned, showing off one dimple in her cheek. “You’re half-right. Rose was my mother’s maiden name. Celia Rose. She was a showgirl.”

“She’s retired?”

A shadow passed over her eyes. “She died when I was born. So, what brings you to Vegas?” she asked, changing the subject as she looked down and noticed their still-intertwined hands.

He’d been holding on, drawing lazy circles around her wrist with his thumb, enjoying the connection that felt so right, so fast. Obviously she didn’t want to discuss her mother and he let the subject go. “I’m here for a wedding.”

“Yours?” She jerked her hand back, a horrified expression on her face.

“Hell, no, not my wedding. Do I look like the kind of guy who’d hit on a woman if I was getting married?” he asked, quickly setting things right. “It’s my partner’s.”

“Oh.” She exhaled hard. “So you are hitting on me?” she asked, sounding extremely pleased at the notion.

“Most definitely.” He stepped closer. Despite the acrid smell of cigarette smoke in the air, he caught a whiff of her floral scent and grew immediately more aroused. “I’m not married or involved,” he said, further reassuring her.

Her lips turned upward in a smile.

Any normal, red-blooded man would be attracted to her. Mike had worked so many hours lately, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid. He didn’t normally go around picking up the women he rescued, but Amber was different. Sexual attraction wasn’t her only appeal. She was intelligent and obviously had morals-she’d made it clear she wouldn’t have been interested in him if he’d been someone else’s husband.

He was here enjoying a long weekend before he had to be back in court early Monday morning to testify in a case he’d closed last year. He’d planned to have fun, unwind and celebrate with his friends. This woman was an unexpected bonus and he realized he wanted to do all of the above with her by his side.

He wasn’t normally so impulsive, but what the hell? Where else but Las Vegas could a man indulge and not feel guilty? If the desire was mutual.

“So.” She ran her tongue over her glossed lips. “What are you going to do now that you’ve hit on me?” she asked in a husky voice.

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he said, gauging her interest.

Her smile widened and his gut churned with desire the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wrapped his hand around hers and once again the connection sizzled between them. Touching her like this made him feel as if he’d known her for longer than a few minutes. Without a doubt, he needed more time.

“So, are there any more Marshalls I should know about?” he asked.

She said he’d been her business partner. Past tense. And he believed her.

She shook her head. “Lucky for both of us, I’m unattached.” Her grin expressed unmistakable interest. In him.

“Corwin, we’re heading to the Hard Rock. Are you coming?”

At the sound of his partner’s voice, Mike turned. “Be right there.” He refocused on Amber. “That’s my partner and some other cops from back home.”

She glanced at the men and women who stood waiting for him. “You should go,” she said. But she didn’t sound like she meant it.

He wasn’t willing to leave her, either. “Come with us. We’re celebrating. Sort of a traveling wedding party. It’ll be fun.” He paused. “Unless you have something else planned?”

“Nope, no other plans,” she quipped. But she cast a wary eye between Mike and his group of friends.

“There are women in the group,” he said, guessing at her hesitancy to walk off alone with them. “Some of them are even cops, too.”

“Well, then, I couldn’t get better escorts,” Amber said, laughing.

He nudged her with his elbow in case she needed more convincing. “Come on. Get away from your life for a little while.”

Amber smiled. He didn’t realize how tempting his offer actually was. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Marshall’s sleazy best friend, J.R., lingering by the bar.

Watching her.

She’d known Marshall wouldn’t give up so easily. Putting J.R. on her tail ensured he could find her-and get her to change her mind later. So, disappearing from this casino sounded like a good idea to Amber right now. Doing it in the middle of a group of cops was even better. And spending time with her sexy savior was like a cherry on top of an already overly frosted cake.

“Besides, how can I continue to hit on you if you don’t come along?” he asked, his breath warm against her cheek, his musky cologne making her weak in the knees.

He had the most potent effect on her and she couldn’t resist his rationale or his charm. Given her circumstances, a new man in her life was the last thing she needed, but the pounding excitement in her veins told her this couldn’t be wrong.

“Lead the way,” she said, hooking her arm in his.

A surprised but pleased look in his eye, Mike led her over to his friends. He introduced her to his partner, Dan Sullivan, and his new wife, Natalie, whose wedding last night they were currently celebrating. Mike ticked off half a dozen more names and Amber took a mental photograph of each.

People, places, names and numbers were her specialty, making her not just good at her former job as a concierge, but one of the best. She wasn’t overly modest, she just understood that her photographic memory was an asset in the service industry. Charisma was another and she’d inherited hers from her father.

The expected stab of pain settled in her chest as she recalled the vibrant charmer Sam Brenner had been, compared to the often vacant shell he’d become once his illness had progressed. Amber didn’t share her father’s last name because he’d wanted to protect her from his con-artist lifestyle. Since taking her mother’s maiden name had helped memorialize a woman Amber would never know, she’d always been honored to have it. And it had certainly made her father happy. At least until his illness had taken hold.

She and her father had always been close, which was why she’d decided to leave her grandparents behind and go on the road with Sam while he did his cons. She’d gotten her GED in place of traditional high school diploma, and talked the head concierge of the Crown Chandler Hotels in Vegas into taking her on as her assistant and teach her the ropes at the age of eighteen. Amber had traveled the country, viewing all the hotels in the chain and ultimately earning the head job in Beverly Hills at the unheard-of age of twenty-one.