Ian (Las Vegas Sidewinders Book 15)

  Ian

  Las Vegas Sidewinders Book 15

  Kat Mizera

  Copyright © 2020 by Kat Mizera

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing: Tera Cuskaden, Ashley Martin

  Cover Design: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  Contents

  Also by Kat Mizera

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from “Zaan” (Book One of Sidewinders: Generations)

  Also by Kat Mizera

  Las Vegas Sidewinders Series:

  Dominic

  Cody’s Christmas Surprise

  Drake

  Karl

  Anatoli

  Zakk

  Toli & Tessa

  Brock

  Vladimir

  Royce

  Nate

  Sidewinders: Ever After

  Jared

  Dmitri’s Christmas Angel

  Ian

  Inferno Series:

  Salvation’s Inferno

  Temptation’s Inferno

  Redemption’s Inferno

  Tropical Inferno (formerly “Tropical Ice”)

  Alaska Blizzard Series:

  Defending Dani

  Holding Hailey

  Winning Whitney

  Losing Laurel

  Saving Sara

  Chasing Charli (2020)

  The Royal Trilogy:

  Nowhere Left to Fall

  Nowhere Left to Run

  Nowhere Left to Hide

  Royal Protectors Series:

  Sandor

  Xander

  Axel (TBD)

  Romancing Europe Series:

  Adonis in Athens

  Smitten in Santorini

  Lucky in Lugano

  Other Books:

  Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Bobbi (Susan Stoker’s Special Forces World)

  Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Delilah (Susan Stoker’s Special Forces World)

  Brotherhood Protectors: Catching Lana (Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors World)

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to Katy Gray and Laura Anne for your help in all things Scottish—couldn’t have done it without you!

  For Lorraine Fleming. For being my friend and for making me promise not to write this book until I visited Scotland. It was so worth the wait.

  1

  Driving on the left side of the road was a hell of a lot harder than it looked. It was pouring rain, pitch-black, and though the GPS on her phone had said her Edinburgh hotel was only about ten miles away, her phone had since died, so now she had no idea where she was or which way to go.

  Didn’t people in Scotland believe in streetlights?

  Everly Adamson leaned forward, squinting, as if that might help her see through the torrential downpour that made it almost impossible to navigate the road. The headlights of her compact rental car bounced off the raindrops, creating so much glare she was debating pulling over.

  She’d been so excited about spending a month on assignment in Scotland, but her trip hadn’t gotten off to an auspicious start. The Uber that had been scheduled to pick her up for her flight yesterday afternoon had never arrived, so she’d barely gotten to the airport on time. She’d forgotten to change U.S. dollars to British pounds, and when she’d gotten to the currency exchange booth in London, her credit card was declined.

  She needed to call and find out what was going on, because she was nowhere near her credit limit, but she’d figured there would be plenty of time for that once she got to her hotel. Of course, it wasn’t until she was on the road that she realized her phone was almost dead and she’d forgotten her charger.

  So here she was, in rural Scotland, with no navigation system, no phone, no cash, and not even a damn credit card, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to run out of gas soon too. She had less than an eighth of a tank now and the seriousness of her situation was beginning to weigh on her. She really didn’t want to run out of gas here in the middle of nowhere. Even if Edinburgh was ten miles away, that was still a long walk in the dark, in a foreign country, in the rain.

  A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw a sign for a town, and though she couldn’t read it, it was the next turn and she was going to pull off and try to get some help. If someone would let her use the phone, she’d get in touch with the hotel and see if they could give her directions from here. Wherever here was.

  She glanced down at the radio, pushing a few buttons in the hope of finding some music that might cheer her up, when something in her peripheral vision made her jerk her head back up. She slammed on the brakes, swerving to avoid something big and brown in the middle of the road. She turned to the right out of instinct, since she was used to being on that side of the road, but the little car spun out, skidding across the two-lane highway and sending her over the embankment into a ditch. The car stopped with a thump and Everly slowly opened her eyes.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  Twisting in her seat, she looked back to see a cow ambling across the road, down the embankment and past her as if it hadn’t just caused an accident. Didn’t cows sleep at night? It wasn’t late, but it was already dark, and she was on the verge of freaking out. Her dream trip was turning into a nightmare. Worse than that, if the car was damaged, how was she going to explain it to her boss?

  With a groan, Everly laid her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She was fine. She hadn’t hit anything or anyone. The car would be okay, and even if it wasn’t, she’d gotten insurance.

  It’s okay, she whispered to herself. Everything is okay.

  Despite the rain, she got out of the car to assess the damage. Amazingly, the car wasn’t damaged. However, the front tires were almost completely buried in mud, and she was taking a guess that this was going to require a tow truck. Except she couldn’t call one because her phone was dead and she didn’t have a fucking charger.

  “You’re a hot fucking mess, Everly,” she muttered out loud.

  She knelt by the wheels, trying to ascertain whether or not they were flat or otherwise damaged, but all she managed to do was get covered in mud. With a sigh, she got back in the car, put it in reverse and said a tiny prayer as she hit the gas.

  Nope. Nothing but spinning wheels.

  She put the car in gear and tried again, hoping the forward mo
tion would help, but it just made a whirring noise as the engine struggled for enough power to do anything.

  “Fuck fuck fuck.” She smacked her fist on the steering wheel in frustration.

  She allowed herself a few minutes to feel sorry for herself and then turned off the car. She stuck the keys in her pocket and reached into the back seat for her backpack. She didn’t care so much about the car or even her suitcase, but her camera wasn’t just worth thousands of dollars, it was part of her job and without it, she wouldn’t be able to do what she was here to do.

  Grabbing her wallet, phone, and passport, and after assuring herself her camera and extra lenses were stowed properly, she got out of the car and slung her backpack over her shoulder. The wetness that instantly soaked through her favorite purple Converse high-tops made her look down and she groaned; she was in three inches of mud.

  “Great.” She stomped around the deepest parts and opened the back of the car to dig out her denim jacket but realized it was going to be soaked soon too, and it would be both heavy and wet instead of just wet like her T-shirt. With a grunt, she threw it back in the car, locked up and started climbing back up the embankment. It was chilly, but she was going to walk as fast as possible to the nearest town and she’d knock on the door of a private home if she had to. It wasn’t late and hopefully there would be someone willing to help her. If not, it was going to be a very long, cold first night in Scotland.

  Ian Campbell was on top of the world. Drinking champagne out of the Stanley freakin’ Cup at his favorite pub with a bunch of his buddies was pretty epic. Doing it in his hometown in Scotland made it even better. His four brothers had tagged along as well, so the normally quiet pub just outside of Edinburgh was bustling with activity. This wasn’t the kind of place tourists frequented and almost everyone drinking with them tonight was someone he or his family knew.

  “Bloody hell, you should win a championship more often,” his brother Liam said, grinning at him over a pint of ale.

  “I’ll do my best,” he responded with a grin.

  “This is fucking awesome.” His friend and teammate Tore Brekken looked around. “I love Scotland. Maybe I should move here!”

  Ian laughed. “Easy, mate. See what it looks like when you’re not drunk first.”

  “I wasn’t drunk this morning,” Tore said. “And I loved it then too!”

  “Your parents’ house is amazing,” another teammate Zaan Hagen interjected. “I could live there.”

  “Technically, it’ll be Ian’s house when Grandfather passes,” Ian’s brother Malcolm cut in.

  “Yeah?” Tore’s eyes widened. “You’re really gonna be the duke of whatever?”

  “I’ll inherit the title of Duke when my grandfather dies,” Ian said quietly. He hated talking about this stuff. His life was in the U.S. playing hockey, and he tried not to think about the deal he’d made with his grandfather or when it would be time to hang up his skates.

  “He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Finlay, his youngest brother, stage-whispered.

  “Then we won’t,” Tore said firmly, dumping another bottle of champagne into the huge silver trophy that loosely resembled an ornate bowl.

  “Does it ever stop raining?” Dax O’Day, another one of their teammates, asked, raising his eyebrows. “We’ve been here three days and I don’t think I’ve seen the sun.”

  “Fifty-fifty chance,” Ian said. “Every day.”

  “Fuck.” Dax shook his head. “Luckily, champagne makes almost everything better.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken!” Ian headed to the bar and tried not to let the uncertainty of his future impact his present, but sometimes it was hard. Especially being back in Scotland. He loved his country, his family and their rich heritage, but the only reason he was going to be titled was because of his birth order. He was the first born, and a son, so even though he had four brothers willing and able to step up, it all fell to him. Especially after losing his father four years ago. Now it felt like the future was barreling down on him at breakneck speed and he wanted everything to slow down.

  He shook off his melancholy train of thought and motioned to the bartender, Len, that he was ready for another beer. They’d been drinking all day so he needed to slow down and beer was safer than shots or champagne. There had been far too much partying since the team he played for, the Las Vegas Sidewinders, had won the championship almost three weeks ago. Now that he’d had his day with the well-known trophy that symbolized the win, and its handler would be taking it to its next stop tomorrow, he was ready to get back into some type of routine.

  “Stop thinking so much,” Dax murmured as Tore starting telling jokes to a group of patrons who’d just come in.

  “I’m good.” Ian gave his buddy a grin.

  “Liar.”

  They laughed together, understanding flitting between them. They were closer than some of the other guys, though the team was generally pretty tight-knit. Dax was the same age as Ian, twenty-seven, and they were both perpetually single, so they hung out a lot. He’d been happy to bring some of his closest buddies here to Scotland to celebrate with him, but Dax in particular since they were roommates in Vegas and they had a tighter relationship than he had with the others.

  “There’s a pretty lass trying to get your attention,” Ian said under his breath.

  Dax cut his eyes in that direction and zeroed in on the attractive brunette. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Ian watched his teammates mingling with his brothers, neighbors and local friends, and the earlier unrest he’d been feeling melted away. This was no time to get melancholy; he’d have the rest of the summer for that.

  He was laughing at one of Tore’s jokes when he saw her, the soaking wet blonde standing in the doorway of the pub looking around dejectedly. She was drenched and partially covered in mud, from her medium-length hair to her skintight white T-shirt, to the strategically ripped jeans she wore. In fact, there was a puddle forming around her where she stood, but she seemed oblivious. And despite how much of a wreck she was, she took his breath away.

  “Excuse me.” She approached the bartender, shivering a little. “Is it all right if I use the restroom? I got caught in the downpour.”

  “Sure thing!” Len smiled and motioned with his head. “Down there, lass.”

  “Th-thanks.” She was obviously cold and hurried through the bar and down the stairs to where the ladies’ room was.

  Ian glanced at Len. “Who was that?”

  He shrugged. “Sounds American. Probably a tourist.”

  “Shots!” Tore was officially shit-faced and motioned to Len to pour them another round of tequila.

  Ian shook his head, unwilling to drink any more just yet. It was still early and they’d been at it all day. He needed some food before they got into any more alcohol. It had been a great day so far, with a huge parade and several thousand people in line to shake hands and take pictures with him and his teammates. Each member of the championship-winning team got to spend a day with the Cup, and today it had been his turn. They’d taken pictures and signed autographs for hours. While Scots probably didn’t care much about hockey in general, they cared about him. As the future Duke of Halloway, he had quite a following here.

  “Come on!” Tore stuck the shot in his hand and Ian reluctantly downed it along with his friends. He was done for now, though, and was going to tell Len to set up the buffet he’d ordered if he could get Tore to sit down long enough to eat.

  “Len, how about bringing out the food?” he asked, leaning on the bar. He’d prepared Len yesterday, telling him there would be a huge group of them and they’d all need to eat.

  “I’m on it.” Len had just turned to go in the back when the striking blonde came back in.

  “Excuse me.” She was a little drier now, probably having used the hand dryer in the bathroom to eliminate some of the water from her T-shirt. It was still pretty damp, though, and Ian forced himself to look into her face instead of staring at her very
ample and shapely chest.

  “What can I get you?” Len asked her.

  “I was wondering, would you happen to have a phone charger? My car went into a ditch and my phone is dead. I need a little juice so I can call the rental company and get it towed.”

  “Afraid I don’t have an iPhone,” Len said, glancing down at the phone in her hand, “but maybe one of the lads has one.”

  “I don’t have a charger on me, but one of my mates does. Hang on a sec.” Ian turned to Tore. “Hey, give me your charger.”

  “Huh?” Tore glanced in their direction.

  “The lady needs a charger. Hand it over.”

  Tore dug the small black contraption out of his pocket obligingly, handing it to Ian.

  “Here you go.” He smiled at her. Damn, she was beautiful. He absolutely needed to find out who she was.

  2

  “Can I get you a drink?” the nice bartender named Len asked Everly as she plugged in her phone.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you. I don’t have any cash and my credit card was declined at the airport so I was going to call—” she motioned to her phone, “—as soon as I got some juice, to tell them I’m out of the country so they turn it back on. But it’s probably going to take a while…”