She twists open the bottle of gin, and I can’t keep my mouth shut.

“You’re trashed. You don’t need any more.”

“Oh, shaddup,” she says. I dart forward, but she pulls the bottle to her chest and throws back a sip, wagging her other pointer finger in the air. Where are my handcuffs?

“No touchie the drinkie. That’s bad, bad, bad. Why’re you bein’ so grumpy, anyways? We’re in Vegas, baby!” She stands awkwardly, grabbing the fridge and laughing. She jumps and puts her arms up, splashing a bit of gin. I would probably be laughing my arse off if this were any other time. But now?

Not amused. Any moment it’s going to begin wearing off. Any moment now would be brilliant. Until then, I must try to talk some sense into her. Father is watching with far too much interest.

“You are being obnoxious,” I tell her. “It’s bad enough I have to babysit. I’m not holding your bloody hair if you puke.”

She laughs and saunters toward me, wobbly, poking my chest. “Isss funny to annoy you. You’re, like, sooo hot when you get mad.”

Father moves into our space, sandwiching Anna between us and putting his mouth to her ear. “I’d watch it, if I were you. He can get pretty rough when he’s upset.”

I’m about to get rough with him if he doesn’t take his bleedin’ hand off her waist. I have a sick, awful feeling that Father would not be above the idea of trying to punish her before the summit in his own wicked ways.

Anna spins and pushes off our chests, moving to the middle of the room and looking around, bleary-eyed. “Whurs the music?”

Father, who does not like being pushed away, is now staring at her with menace. He moves to her and grabs her arms, shaking her. “Where’s the sword?”

“I ain’t got no swooord, crazy ass,” she says in a heavy drawl. She thinks he’s being cheeky.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” I say, moving toward them. I couldn’t care less that she’s disrespected him, but I don’t want her to make him angry.

Father chuckles without humor. “We’ll see, little girl.”

“Yeah, we will!” She smiles, then flops down on the couch and gets a goofy look. “What the heck are we even talkin’ ’bout? I thought we were gonna dance.”

She rolls off the couch and crawls toward the minibar. Father claps a hand on my shoulder and cocks his head toward Anna. The stare he gives her is full of loathing. “Yeah, good luck with that. And be careful. I wouldn’t put it past her to use your lust inclination as a distraction to escape. Don’t let her get the upper hand, you know what I’m saying?” He winks wickedly and I nod. “Don’t leave the room, and don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just leave!

He puts his mouth too close to my ear and whispers. “She thinks she’s cute. She thinks she can pull one over on you. Don’t trust her. Don’t even get near her, if you can help it.” I give a tight nod.

Anna loudly cracks open a bottle of beer and I give her my harshest glare. She flicks the cap at me and I smack it away.

“Shame to waste such a fine body on her,” he murmurs to me.

I grit my teeth.

Father pokes fun at the drunk girl a bit longer, amused by her cluelessness, and then he finally leaves. I flick him off with both hands when the door closes, bloody glad he’s gone and that things didn’t escalate further. We’re unbelievably lucky. I lean back against the entertainment center and cross my arms. Now I just have to get Anna sobered up and . . .

Why is she staring at me like that?

She licks her lips and gives me the classic “come hither” look. But that would be bad. Very bad right now. I shake my head. My hearing is out the door, and Pharzuph whistles as he enters the elevator.

Anna sets down her beer and stands. She’s still obviously inebriated, but she’s not falling over anymore. She’s just sloe-eyed and sexy, and I have to keep shaking my head. But she’s coming my way, and I feel the stirring. My head fills with fog, and my gut aches with a deep throb.

Anna presses her entire body to mine, and her hands are on my waist. My teeth clamp together. I grasp her shoulders and push her away as gently and quietly as I can, but she is unrelenting. I shake my head, feeling weakened by the emotion of the afternoon. Father is off the elevator now, walking, saying hello to people, flirting with strangers.

Anna’s hands roam over my chest, and down. I grab her hands but she yanks them away and says, “Don’t.”

Uuuugh, little vixen, do not do this to me. Don’t touch. Don’t speak. Just . . . I cover her mouth.

“Shut up,” I say in a low voice.

She goes still. Her eyes are on me, and they are sweltering, her lids dipping low. Come to think of it, I should probably cover her eyes, too. I should put her to bed and tuck her in tightly. All by herself. Fully clothed. Until she’s ready to behave again.

Sounds of the casino ring out in my extended hearing.

“You look familiar,” I hear Father say. “Are you an actress?”

A feminine giggle. “Nope.”

“Come on, with a face like that . . .”

Anna gently peels my hand from her mouth. She kisses my palm, and it’s so simple and sensual that I’m suddenly fighting for normal breath.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” Father says smoothly.

Anna kisses her way up my middle finger. I step back, but she’s still holding my hand, and she runs her tongue across my fingertip.