King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

celebration. I had enough to leave again, but it was exhausting. Ten years of roaming the world to make a name for myself and I was just . . . tired.

Maybe that was what made me keep talking. “I like to do articles that link different communities around the world. How we’re alike, and how we’re different in our similarities.”

She tilted her head, her expression prompting me to say more. Not just a we’re going to humor the middle kid for a minute before we brush him off look, but valid curiosity. No one had been interested in my photography since Mama had died.

I flicked through the pictures to shots of Red Rock Canyon I’d taken earlier. “These aren’t exotic, but it gives you a taste of what I do. For instance, I was in Sri Lanka not too long ago. They have rock formations, like Sigiriya Fortress and Dambulla’s caves, that are tourist attractions, similar to Red Rock Canyon. So, maybe I’d do a story on how rock formations make up the backbone of some important tourist stuff.”

So that had sounded better at the beginning. Then I’d run out of steam and blown it toward the end. Riveting shit right there. I waited for the same dubious expression I usually got after telling people my story ideas.

But she just nodded, her eyes losing focus as she thought about it. “I mean, when you think about it, geography often plays a key role in tourism. When I was in college, we studied the tradeoffs between preserving the land and bringing in money to support it.”

The longer she talked, the higher my brows went. Who was this goddess?

She peeked at the pictures, reluctantly edging closer. “Those are beautiful. The colors are so vibrant.”

I hung on the awe in her voice. “It’s at sunrise.” I had been too jet-lagged to sleep and stressing about the dinner with my family and my inevitable encounter with Grams. I’d figured a place like Red Rock Canyon was a give-me for nice pictures.

“Do you have the photos from Sri Lanka?”

“I have some of the countryside.” They were nothing I’d put in a calendar. The trip had turned out to be fruitless as far as pictures went. Anyone with a phone could take the equivalent of what I’d captured. Unwilling to explain that I took menial jobs to pay for room and board while I traveled the world and failed to make a name for myself, I steered the conversation toward her. “What do you do? Are you from around here?”

Her smile lit up the night better than any of the casinos. “Is anyone really from Vegas?”

I laughed, her quick humor still a surprise after the way she’d confronted me. She was also smart. I was just some guy in a big city asking her a semi-personal question. “Fair.”

“I, um . . . I’m kind of a consultant. On environmental issues.”

“That’s respectable work.” And it explained her defensiveness when she’d thought I was making light of the earth, air, wind, and fire brigade.

“Right. Yes.” Her gaze flickered, hiding an emotion I couldn’t identify. “I’m between jobs at the moment. I was here on business and now I’m not.”

“Long story?”

“Tragically short and predictable, I’m afraid.” She glanced around. “If I’d been paying attention.”

“As a freelancer, I’m almost always between jobs.”

Her grateful smile cut right through my chest. I swept my eyes over the curve of her full cheeks and pointed chin. Her heart-shaped face made her look youthful and innocent. But the keen look in her eyes told me that she wasn’t much younger than me.

“So I take it you’re not from Vegas either?” she asked.

“I grew up around more cattle than people.”

“Space to roam.”

I didn’t miss the wistful note in her voice. She must’ve grown up in a city. I wanted to ask more questions, know everything about her, but I didn’t even know the most basic detail. “What’s your name?”

A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Savvy.”

“Savvy.” The name rolled off my tongue too easily. Her skin glowed, soft and inviting, but she wasn’t mine to touch. “Is it short for something?”

“Yes. How about you?”

Again, fair. She’d given me her name, but I’d given her nothing. My real name was normally innocuous enough, except in certain circles. When I was back in the States, I used it less. I was in Vegas, just some normal guy taking pictures, and for some reason, I didn’t want that image to change in Savvy’s eyes.

I gave her my pseudonym. “Tate. Want to go grab a drink? I have a whole SD card of pictures I could show you.”

Chapter 2

Savvy

“I . . .” I broke into a fit of giggles. The five dollar bouquet of white carnations drooped in my hands as I doubled over. “Ohmigosh. Wait. Wait. I, Sapphire—”

Tate’s adorable brow crinkled and I realized why.

“Didn’t I tell you that my real name is Sapphire?” I leaned forward like it was just him and me, no strangers watching us and waiting for me to finish. “Sapphire Jewel.”

My giggle was too loud, but I was buzzing pretty hard. I wasn’t drunk drunk, but it was a good thing we could walk wherever we needed. Or that he could give me a piggyback ride because my feet hurt.

Maybe I was a little drunk.

To be fair, he would’ve known my full name, but he’d gone to pick out the rings while I’d given the chapel assistant my information. Then, I’d been choosing my flowers when he’d filled out his part of the paperwork. I had to hand it to Las Vegas, getting married here was efficient.

Chief was going to lose his shit.

Tate laughed, and the deep sound rumbled through my belly. Oh God, this man made me hotter as the night went on, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. His eyes were only a little glassy. How many beers had he drank?

We’d had so much fun talking that I’d kept ordering drinks as an excuse to stay with him longer. He was a humble guy, shy about