“How did Leta know that Rock had left Montana?” I asked.

Nieves kicked off one of her stilettos and slid her bare foot underneath my pants, rubbing her toes against my ankle. “I don’t know.”

Oddly, I wasn’t getting turned on. I still enjoyed a woman who was a challenge, and Nieves Romero clearly didn’t fall into that category. Partially my fault. I’d gotten her drunk. Alcohol, the great social lubricant. Not that Nieves needed any lubricant. Of any kind.

But Nieves hadn’t been a challenge back in Manhattan either, and I’d been sloppy seconds after she couldn’t seduce Rock away from Lacey.

That night, I hadn’t cared. I’d been horny, and she’d been available.

Tonight, though? She wasn’t appealing to me.

Damn Rock and his ill-timed phone call. If I hadn’t answered, I’d be doing the horizontal tango with Ms. Romero right now.

Instead, I’d gotten her too drunk too quickly, and now she wasn’t going to be any good to me.

“Nieves,” I said.

“What?” Then she burst into giggles. “You have four eyes.”

Her remark puzzled me. I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

Her next gesture removed any puzzlement. She poked at my forehead. “One, two, three, four.” Then she blinked incessantly for a few seconds and then widened her eyes. “Nope. Still four.”

Was she too drunk now to give me any helpful information?

What a lightweight. Four drinks? Really?

Except she probably weighed half of what I did.

I signaled the barkeep again, rising to speak to him privately. “How much booze did you put in her drinks?”

“They were doubles,” he said.

“Doubles? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“That’s what she ordered when she got here.”

Shit. He was right. Nieves had arrived at the bar before I did, and she’d ordered my first scotch.

Nieves had drunk the equivalent of eight drinks while I was fake drinking my second. Four drinks would have put her right where I wanted her.

Eight? She was a hair away from passing out.

I returned to my stool and sat down.

“I don’t feel so good, Rock,” Nieves said.

“Reid,” I said, taking a good look at her. “You look a little green.”

She laughed hysterically. “I think I’m going to puke on you later!”

Great. Just great. I threw some bills on the wooden bar. “That’s your tip. Put the drinks on my tab. Reid Wolfe.”

The bartender’s eyebrows flew up. “Reid Wolfe? Who owns this place?”

“That’s the one.” Then I lifted Nieves off her stool, carried her out of the bar toward the elevators.

She closed her eyes and let out a soft snore.

So much for my quick fuck.