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she’d seen during the morning session, but now it looked forced. His smooth-as-glass poker face was strained and when he finally won his last hand for the night, he looked relieved.
    “Come on.” She collected him from his table with a smile. “Time to get you upstairs.”
    “I’ve got to work.”
    Work she wanted to know more about.
    “You’ve got a concussion,” she corrected as she pulled him over to the elevator and hit the up button. The elevator doors dinged open almost immediately and they got in.
    “How’d that guy hit me so hard anyway?” Ryan hit the button for their floor. “He has to be a million.”
    “He’s sixty-eight.”
    “Jesus,” Ryan swore. “Don’t tell the guys back at the office, okay? I’d never live it down.”
    “He used to be a heavyweight champion back in the day, and he still practices every morning. You should just be glad he didn’t have his baseball bat.”
    “What about you?” Ryan asked. “You secretly a spy sent to torture all my secrets out of me?”
    The doors to the elevator opened to let them out. “I’m a college professor.” Daisy didn’t bother stopping to let Ryan open his own door. She slid the keycard through the lock and popped open the door to her room. “You going to come in?”
    Ryan’s glazed-over expression tightened. He looked suddenly hopeful. “I guess I’d better.”
    The room had a single king-size bed, a couch, and a chair. Daisy took the chair so Ryan wouldn’t be tempted to sit down next to her. This was just like holding a meeting back at the university. She needed to be in control of the agenda.
    Ryan sat down directly across from her. There was a small bruise on his cheek and his body would probably be black and blue in the morning but…damn, he looked good enough to eat.
    And he tasted like sunshine. Daisy swallowed hard at the memory. In the bathroom, she should have been scared. Getting yelled at wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time, but there’d been something about the way Ryan looked at her. When he’d touched her skin, she’d practically melted into his arms, and when he’d growled at her she’d…
    She’d kissed him.
    Which shocked Daisy more than she’d like to admit. Daisy never kissed someone unless the parameters were arranged in advance. One-night stand. No strings. No risks. No broken hearts. She liked things neat and orderly, even her sex life.
    Getting involved with Ryan was a bad idea. He didn’t fit into her predetermined order. He just sat there. Like a lump. Drawing her in with his eyes.
    “A professor,” Ryan finally said. “What’s your specialty? English lit?”
    “Nothing wrong with English, but it’s not my style. I’m in the math department.”
    “Math,” Ryan said. “Statistics?”
    “Applied mathematics.” Daisy nodded. “Although some of my work is theoretical as well.”
    “And you have a PhD?”
    “Two of them.” It would soon be three, if Daisy ever got around to taking the foreign language requirement for cryptography.
    Ryan frowned. “You don’t look old enough to have a PhD.”
    Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-four, not twelve.”
    “Twenty-four? And you have two PhDs.” He sniffed. “You go to some diploma mill?”
    “Harvard for undergrad and the first PhD—statistics and probability—and UCLA for the second. That’s where I work now.”
    “Hell.” Ryan leaned forward slightly. “You’re one of those Rainman types. That’s how you knew my game was off earlier.”
    Daisy’s teeth dug into her bottom lip hard enough to make her wince. She should be used to the Rainman jokes, but it still hit her somewhere deep inside. She licked her lips, concentrating on keeping the tone of the conversation light. “Something like that.”
    “And Bullet?”
    “Clive Jackson. He’s the general manager here at the casino.”
    “I know the name.” Ryan waved a hand. “Didn’t say anything in his file about being called Bullet.”
    “Yeah, well I’m