Evie knew she was flirting way out of her comfort zone—and probably flirting with disaster at the same time—but she couldn’t seem to dredge up a care.

This was a whole new world, and it was scary and thrilling. If she had an ounce of sense she’d go back to her suite at the Bellagio and forget she’d ever laid eyes—or hands—on this man.

Embarrassed, she could only smile gratefully and hope the darkness would hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Would you like to go somewhere else? Someplace a bit quieter?”

“That sounds good to me.”

Nick stood and offered her his hand. “Then let’s go.”

She hesitated for a millisecond, wondering out of habit what the gossip columns would make of her and Nick, but then she remembered where she was. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. No one here knew or even gave a damn who she was, what she did, or who she did it with.

Then Nick smiled at her, and her knees wobbled.

Viva Las Vegas!

What Happens in Vegas…

by

Kimberly Lang

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader

Some of you may be thinking something sounds vaguely familiar about this book…and you’d be right.

When I finished writing my second book, THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS, there was one character who just wouldn’t let me go: Evie. Evie was such a strong character, and I loved her so much, I actually missed her once the book was done. I chalked that up to author over-investment, and went on to other books and other characters. But I never forgot about her. Once THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS hit the shelves, I started getting e-mails and feedback from readers, and soon it became clear I wasn’t the only one who’d fallen in love with her and wanted to see her safely settled with her own Happily-Ever-After.

But what to do with a character like Evie? She’s rich and beautiful, and she comes from a great family, and I’d just written an entire book setting her up to do well in her life. She seemed to have a pretty clear path ahead. What could she possibly need?

I realised I’d created an irrepressible character and then done my level best to repress her in every way possible. What would happen when Evie couldn’t take it any more and everything she’d been holding back exploded to the surface? I also needed to find her a hero who’d challenge her, shake her up, and appreciate who she was at her core. Nick Rocco fitted the bill nicely—a Mr Totally Wrong who turns out to be Mr Completely Perfect.

Giving Evie her hero and her Happily-Ever-After has been a joy for me, and I thank everyone who let me know how much they wanted her to have her own story. I hope you’re pleased with the result.

All the best

Kimberly

About the Author

KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily ever after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

Recent titles by the same author:

BOARDROOM RIVALS, BEDROOM FIREWORKS!

MAGNATE’S MISTRESS…

ACCIDENTALLY PREGNANT!

THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS

THE SECRET MISTRESS ARRANGEMENT

To Shelley Visconte, MA, LPC, LMFT and soon-to-be PhD—I’m so proud of you, and terribly impressed by that alphabet soup behind your name, but the letters that make me the proudest are the ones you’ve had all along: BFF.

Chapter One

THAT WAS AN ACTUAL mirrored disco ball spinning over a lighted dance floor. Hundreds of sweaty bodies crowded the dance floor, moving to a techno dance mix, and the bass line thumped like a heartbeat. This club—The Zoo—had strobe lights, LED-lit jungle vines hanging from the ceiling and zebra-striped furniture. This place took tacky to a whole new level.

And Evie Harrison loved it. In fact, she loved everything about Las Vegas: the neon lights, the over-the-top, let-it-all-hang-out attitude, the sheer unapologetic gaudiness of the entire city.

Las Vegas wasn’t Dallas, that was for sure, and that made Evie love Vegas all the more.

“Wanna dance, gorgeous?”

Evie’s eyes watered at the alcohol exhaled in her face as the offer was made. “No, but thanks. I’m waiting on someone.”

Thankfully, her would-be dance partner was still in the “happy drunk” stage, and he only shrugged as he moved one table over, presumably with the same question.

The truth was, she would like to dance. But hitting the dance floor alone wasn’t an option. Not that she cared who saw her or what they thought—the joy of anonymity was part of what brought her to Vegas in the first place—but a woman dancing alone would bring every drunk guy in the bar immediately into her personal space, and she couldn’t guarantee they’d all be as easily rebuffed as the last one.

A cocktail waitress with tiger ears on her head and whiskers painted across her cheeks picked up the empty glass off the table. “Can I get you something?” she shouted over the music.

“A vodka tonic,” Evie replied, as her tiny silver purse began to dance across the table from the vibration of the cell phone inside. She pulled out the phone and looked at the number displayed on the screen.

Will.

There was no way in hell she was answering that. The phone quit vibrating as the call went to voice mail, and Evie noted it wasn’t the first time her brother had called tonight. A quick scroll through the missed-call log showed this was the fourth time in the last two hours Will had called. She was busted.

She’d left Will a message at his office telling him she was leaving town. He wasn’t supposed to get it until Monday morning. The workaholic butthead must’ve checked his messages already.

She would not feel guilty. She was twenty-five years old—even if Will still thought she was a wayward teenager—and she didn’t need her brother’s permission to leave town for the weekend.

Her drink arrived at the same time as a text from Sabine. Going to casino @ Bellagio with Toby. Don’t wait up. The last sentence was unnecessary; she’d recognized the look in Bennie’s eyes when she’d left thirty minutes ago and known their girls’ night out was officially over.

She was a little disappointed, but at least Bennie had dropped everything to come to Vegas with her last night when she asked. And honestly, being alone in Vegas sure beat being in Dallas at the moment. Being anywhere beat being at home right now.

So she lost her patience and said a few things at that brunch she shouldn’t have. Evie frowned into her drink. If that witch from the Dallas Lifestyles gossip column hadn’t been standing right there minding everyone else’s business, no one would have ever known. But no, the whole embarrassing thing got prime treatment on page three yesterday morning.

She’d apologized to the Dallas Beautification Committee’s president and doubled the amount of the company’s donation to make up for implying that new benches in the city’s parks weren’t equally as important as curing cancer or feeding the hungry.

No one reported that in the paper. No, they were too busy getting as much ink as possible out of her big mouth. Again. Then Will had jumped on her case about it, and she’d gotten a nice long talking-to from Uncle Marcus—again—about not embarrassing the family—again—but neither of them was sitting through endless brunches and endless speeches just to be the smiling face that presented a check on behalf of HarCorp International.

Why had she even bothered going to college? A trained monkey could do her job. Hell, a well-trained monkey might manage not to make the paper while doing so.

So what if Will was all bent out of shape that she was AWOL? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d wanted to strangle her, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time, either.

Her phone vibrated again. This time it was Gwen’s number. Did Will honestly think she’d answer a call from his wife’s phone when she wasn’t taking calls from him? How dumb did he think she was?

She made a face at the phone before she tucked it back into her purse. With Bennie off with her new friend, Evie reassessed her options for the rest of the evening. She could be good and go back to the hotel, but that defeated the entire purpose of running away from home in the first place. She just needed a time-out from her life, the chance to have some fun without worrying everything she did would end up in the papers.

That ad campaign for Las Vegas claimed What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas. That sounded fantastic.

It was time to go find something to do.

Whoever designed this club should be shot. It was possible to take a theme too far. And if they were aiming for a zoo theme, why on earth were jungle vines hanging from the ceiling?

Nick Rocco mentally tallied up how much it would cost to completely gut and refurbish the interior of The Zoo and added it to the total cost.

If he bought The Zoo—and that was still an if—he’d have to close it completely during renovations. But it was in a prime location, and a big, splashy, grand reopening might give the club a boost and added publicity. Any loss from the closure could be recouped if he handled the reopening properly.

Even with the added cost and delay, adding The Zoo to his collection of properties made good business sense. He’d also readily admit it gave him no small sense of satisfaction to purchase a place where he’d once mopped floors and tended bar. Even if it hadn’t been called The Zoo back then.

Nick made a practice of visiting any potential purchases during business hours before making firm offers to get a true feel for their potential. And any potential problems. That’s why he was here on a Friday night, trying to blend in with the clientele.

The dance floor heaved with bodies, most of the low sofas and chairs were occupied, and the waitresses and bartenders were moving at a fast clip. It wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t dead, either. If The Zoo could pull in this much business as is, a makeover and a fresh launch could turn it into a gold mine.

Kevin O’Brian, who handled much of the day-to-day business and promotions at all of Nick’s clubs, returned from his reconnaissance mission and joined him at the bar.

“Well?” Nick shouted over the thumping bass line.

“Other than the occasional drunk-and-disorderly, the cops aren’t required to come by very often. I asked around, and no one seems to be picking up tricks or selling anything this place isn’t licensed for.” Kevin had the kind of friendly, good-ol’-boy personality that made gathering that kind of behind-the-scenes information easy. People opened up to Kevin without any effort on his part, but Nick himself didn’t have the patience—or Kevin’s unassuming frat-boy looks—at his disposal. The ability to play good cop/bad cop was one of the secret weapons in their business arsenal. Kevin was a valuable asset to Nick’s business—as well as his oldest friend. “You’ll need to fire that DJ, though.”

That got his attention; Kevin rarely weighed in on staffing issues. “Why? You think he’s—”

“No. His taste in music sucks.” Kevin grinned and motioned for the bartender to bring him another beer. The blonde delivered it with a smile and winked at Kevin as she pocketed the tip. “Keep her, though. I like her.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to make the deal.”

“You know you are. I’d bet this beer you’ve already figured how much it’s going to cost you to expand the dance floor and pull down those god-awful vines.”

Nick shrugged, acknowledging nothing, but Kevin knew him too well. They’d grown up together in one of the toughest parts of Las Vegas, yet unlike so many other of their childhood friends, they’d managed to get out of the circular grind of poverty and drugs. Luck had been involved—he’d helped fund his first major club purchase with poker winnings—but it was their common desire to escape that past that bonded them together in the hard work of the climb out of the Vegas projects to UNLV and finally to the top of the food chain.

“So, we’re done now?” In the old days, Kevin would just be gearing up, but Lottie had put a stop to his partying ways.

“Go home to your wife. I’m going to stay a little longer and see how the crowd changes after the shows let out.”

“You could try to have some fun, you know. It wouldn’t kill you. You know what they say about ‘All work and no play…’”

“Keeps us in the black?” Nick challenged.

“I know the books as well as you do. You don’t need another club to stay in the black. You’re just buying this one because you can.”

“And that, my friend, is fun.”

“You’re twisted. Look around—there’s a lot of pretty girls here tonight…” Kevin raised his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m sure any of them would love to help you rediscover the meaning of fun.”

Nick hadn’t picked up a woman in a bar in years. Hooking up with a party girl out for a good time was just asking for trouble he didn’t need. “Go home.”

“Gone.” And he was.

Nightclubs weren’t Nick’s idea of a place to have a good time—possibly because he’d spent too many years working in them, ensuring everyone else did. He scanned the crowd, making plans and evaluating.

Two men seemed to be having words over a small redheaded woman’s attentions. From the posturing, Nick knew exactly what was coming, and he left his spot at the bar rail.

He didn’t quite make it in time. The blond-haired one pushed the other one back, causing him to stumble backward into the crowd and crash into a woman behind him. Nick reached for the woman as she fell, catching her before she hit the table.

She slammed into him, her weight landing in his arms as her feet nearly went out from under her. Something cold sloshed down his chest as he tightened his grip and turned her away from the combatants. A second later, a burly bouncer pushed past and put himself between the men, effectively stopping the fight by virtue of size and scowl.

The scuffle ended before it really began, and the two men were escorted to the door by security with the redhead trailing behind a moment later. The speed and ease with which the bouncers handled the problem impressed Nick, and he made a mental note to be sure to keep them on staff.

Looking down at the woman sprawled in his arms, he asked, “Are you okay?” as he helped her regain her balance.

The woman pushed dark auburn hair out of her face and tugged her dress back into place, calling his attention to the length of leg exposed by a tiny silver skirt and the gentle swell of her cleavage over a black top. His body seemed to remember the feel of those breasts pressed against his chest and his skin warmed a fraction.

“I think so,” she replied, before she lifted green eyes to his and smiled. “Thank you for the save.”

The smile lit up her face like the Vegas strip, drawing attention to her slightly exotic bone structure and causing something in him to stir.

“Oh, my God, you’re wearing my drink. I’m so sorry.” Her hands were on him, brushing at his chest and sending jolts through him as they did. Damn. What was wrong with him?

“It’s fine.”

“It shouldn’t stain, but I’ll pay your dry…” She trailed off as he grabbed her hands and held them away from his chest. “Um…your dry-cleaning bill.” She slid her hands out of his grasp and extended one to him. “I’m Evie.”

“Nick.” Her hand disappeared inside his larger one, but she squeezed gently.

Evie looked as if she should be gracing a stage: she was tall and willowy, with that dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and she carried herself with grace and self-assurance. Kevin would say Evie looked “expensive”—and she did—but without that fake plastic look or the sense of entitlement that normally accompanied it. He knew all too well how to spot women like that and avoid them.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Nick. And you have excellent reflexes. I never even saw that guy coming.”

“It happens. Testosterone, alcohol and a pretty girl is a bad mix. A common one, but a bad one.”

“So that’s what it was about.” Evie seemed to think for a minute, then she turned that electric smile back on him. “I feel like I should at least offer to buy you a drink or something.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“But—” Evie stopped and shook her head. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re probably here with somebody. I don’t want to start another fight, so I’ll just—” She stepped away and indicated she would leave.

Oddly enough, for someone who’d come strictly to case the joint, he was now uninterested in the club itself. Evie, on the other hand. “I’m not,” he heard himself say.

Evie caught her bottom lip in her teeth, and the sparkle came back to her eyes. “Then I can buy you that drink after all.”

“Isn’t that my line?” A couple abandoned a zebra-striped couch in favor of the dance floor, and Nick steered Evie in that direction.

“I believe the rescuee should buy the rescuer the drink.” She sat gracefully and sighed. “At least it’s a bit quieter over here. I can barely hear myself think out there.”

“That’s kind of the point. Most people don’t come here in search of stimulating conversation.”

Evie cut her eyes at him. “I guess not.”

A waitress appeared almost immediately to get their order. Evie ordered a vodka tonic, and though he didn’t normally drink anything stronger than water when he was working, he asked for the same.

It was slightly quieter in the corner, but Evie still had to move close to him in order to hear him. As she did, the faint spicy scent of her perfume tickled his nose. It suited her perfectly—just slightly exotic and very natural.

“So where are you from, Nick?”

It took him a second to get his mind back in the conversation. “North Las Vegas.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened.

He was used to looks of pity or scorn when he revealed his less-than-blue-chip background, but Evie’s reaction was unexpected. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“Because I am. I mean, I just never thought of people actually being from Vegas, you know? It seems like one of those places where everyone is really from somewhere else.” As Evie spoke, her hands moved animatedly—until she seemed to realize she was doing it and clasped them in her lap.

“Everyone has to grow up somewhere. What about you?”

“Dallas.” There was a touch of exasperation behind the word, and her mouth twisted the tiniest bit. If he hadn’t been so focused on her lips, he’d have missed it. “I’m only here for the weekend.”

“Not on business, then.”

“God, no. Just fun.”

That phrase—practically the code word for trouble—should’ve sent him to the nearest exit, but something about Evie kept him in his seat. “On your own?”

“Oh, no, I came with a friend.”

He looked around pointedly, and Evie laughed. The sound caused a physical reaction—almost as if she’d run her hands over him again.

“But my friend made a new friend, so…”

Evie was on her own tonight. The same part of his brain that was overriding his common sense took that knowledge and ran with it. He shifted on the sofa, looking for a comfortable position as his body’s physical responses took over.

Thankfully, the server returned with their drinks, shifting his attention as he reached for his wallet. Evie stayed him with a hand as she handed over a bill to the server and told her to keep the change. “Smart women don’t let strange men buy their drinks in bars.” She winked. “It can lead to misunderstandings later.”

Evie wasn’t naive. He liked that. “Then I’ll get the second round.”

Her eyebrows went up in challenge. “That assumes there will be a second round.”

“I’m not assuming anything. Just thinking positively.”

“Hmm, I’ve heard folks talk about the power of positive thinking. Does it work for you?” Holding her drink carefully, Evie smiled as she leaned against the sofa back and crossed those unbelievably long legs. Although the action didn’t look rehearsed or intentional, it was still outrageously seductive. His imagination sprang to life, and all the reasons why he didn’t pick up women in bars anymore were blotted out by the images.

“I’m positive I’m glad your friend made a new friend…”

“Leaving me to make a new friend of my own?” Evie finished.

“Exactly.”

That word sent a shiver down Evie’s spine and kicked her heartbeat up another notch. The power of positive thinking? Hell, she was positive she wasn’t thinking straight, but she was also very positive there was no place on earth she’d rather be than here, with Nick’s dark eyes causing her stomach to turn funny flips. When she’d landed on him and his arms tightened around her, it felt like time stopped. The imprint of his chest against hers, the heat of his skin under the silky cotton shirt, the thump of his heartbeat seeming louder than the music. And when she’d looked up to see her rescuer…

The strobe light kept sending parts of his face into shadow, emphasizing the sharp cheekbones and the strong, square line of his jaw. Dark hair fell across his forehead, nearly covering a scar above his left eyebrow that gave him a dangerous look. She’d had to break eye contact before those eyes of his sucked her in completely and turned her to mush.

Then she’d noticed how the dampness of his shirt caused it to mold across his chest, and her hands had been on him before she realized it. The electric tingle he caused in her fingertips only intensified when he grabbed her hands, and Evie had sent up a fervent prayer of thanks that God made men that looked—and felt—like him.

Only the years Gwen had spent trying to teach her to be a lady had saved her at that moment, letting her fall back into simple conversation instead of throwing herself into his arms. Her sister-in-law would be horrified at the very unladylike way Evie was flirting with Nick now, but someone else seemed to be inhabiting her body at the moment.

Exactly. Was that a challenge? A promise? Nothing at all? Evie knew she was flirting way out of her comfort zone—and probably flirting with disaster at the same time—but she couldn’t seem to dredge up a care. This was a whole new world, and she felt as if she’d slipped out of a confining costume and was finally herself.

It was scary and thrilling, and if she had an ounce of sense, she’d go back to her suite at the Bellagio and forget she’d ever laid eyes—or hands—on this man.

How many times had Will accused her of not having that ounce of sense? Obviously, he was right.

“Are you saying you’d like to be my new friend?” Dear Lord, had she really just said that? And where had that husky tone come from?

The corner of Nick’s mouth twitched. “Yeah.”

Oh, yeah, she was way, way out of her league. Switch to small talk. Small talk would give her a graceful retreat while she regrouped. You can do small talk. Maybe not, she corrected herself as no words came to mind. Flustered by, well, everything, she reached for her glass to help calm her nerves. The vodka burned as she swallowed, and she coughed painfully. Nick signaled the waitress and she quickly brought a glass of water over.

Embarrassed, she could only smile gratefully and hope the darkness of the club would hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Since that drink doesn’t seem to be to your liking, would you like to go somewhere else? Someplace a bit quieter with better-quality vodka?”

That offer nearly caused her to choke, and the water burned worse than the vodka. She cleared her throat. “Like where?”

“There’s a club not far from here—the Starlight—that I like, but the options are wide open. This is Las Vegas, Evie, anything you could ever want is available twenty-four hours a day.”

Her mind went to a dozen inappropriate places—complete with visuals—before she managed to rein it back in. “That sounds good to me.”

Nick stood and offered her his hand. “Then let’s go.”

She hesitated for a millisecond and covered by reaching for her water glass one more time. Out of habit, she immediately wondered what the gossip columns would make of her and Nick, but then she remembered where she was. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. No one here knew or even gave a damn who she was, what she did, or whom she did it with.

She placed her hand in his and her insides turned warm and melty when his fingers closed around hers and he pulled her to her feet. Feet that weren’t very steady at the moment, dancing as they were around excitement, desire and the knowledge of her freedom.

Then Nick smiled at her, and her knees wobbled.

Viva Las Vegas.

Chapter Two

EVIE KNEW SHE WASN’T DRUNK—she’d only had a couple of drinks—but she certainly felt like it. The freedom, the not-caring who was watching, the feeling of lightness—the intoxication was coming from Nick, not a bottle.

Who needed alcohol when every time she inhaled, his scent coiled through her, making her blood sing in her veins? And if there was anything more perfectly thrilling than the feel of his body pressed close to hers on the dance floor…Sweet mercy. She was about to spontaneously combust. This wasn’t dancing: it was rhythmic public foreplay, and the bass line vibrating through her body was an unnecessary additional stimulant.

Oh, no, Nick was more than enough.

But something more than just her libido was awake. At this moment, she wasn’t “Evangeline Harrison, heiress to half of HarCorp International.” She wasn’t under the lens of Dallas society’s microscope. No one was judging her or expecting an appropriate level of behavior from the sister-in-law of Texas’s leading etiquette expert.

She was just “Evie”—random girl-on-the-street—and that Evie was enjoying her time out of the Dallas fishbowl. Nick didn’t know any differently, and he certainly didn’t seem to care who she was when she wasn’t here in Las Vegas. Not only did he have no expectations of her behavior, but he also seemed blissfully ignorant of the kinds of rules she was used to.

Drinking beer straight from the bottle? He didn’t bat an eyelash. Joining the band on the stage and singing backup on her favorite song? He lifted her up there and then watched her with a fire in his eyes that had her stammering into the microphone.

Nick seemed sure of himself; he wore his rough edges with pride and did what he wanted without apology. She’d spent her entire life with the “right” boys who came from families much like hers and were members of the right country clubs. Even with a veneer of civilization, Nick was what the other girls in her debutante class had called a Bad Boy.

And she’d never wanted someone so bad so badly.

The music ended with a crash of cymbals, and the band announced they were taking a break. Her fingers dug into Nick’s muscular shoulders in protest. No. She didn’t want this dance to end.

Nick’s hand tightened around her waist, keeping her close, and her heartbeat jumped up another notch. From the way he was staring at her, she got the feeling he felt the same way. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard.

The arms holding her pulled her another fraction of an inch closer until she could feel the beat of his heart against her chest. The blood roared in her ears and everything that wasn’t Nick ceased to exist.

Then his mouth landed on hers.

Oh, yes.

His lips were warm and firm and hungry, and they fired the hunger in her. Her hand slid over the solid muscle of his shoulder, to the nape of his neck, where she was finally able to run her fingers through the inky-black silk of his hair.

She felt, more than heard, him growl low in his throat as Nick’s tongue swept into her mouth to find hers.

Then she began to burn.

The fire started low in her belly, moving down through her core until her thighs began to quiver. It spread up, causing her breasts to feel heavy and her nipples to harden against the silk of her bra.

Nick’s hands cupped her head, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones to her temples as he held her steady against the onslaught.

If she’d had any worry that the tension—the want—had been only one-sided, Nick dispelled that erroneous notion with one press of his hips against hers.

“Get a room!” someone shouted, and she broke away quickly, putting distance between them.

Oh, no.

The lovely heat of Nick’s kiss receded as the hot flush of embarrassment rushed to her cheeks. Nick didn’t seem to notice—or care—as he placed one last kiss on her temple and tilted her face back up to his.

The wry smile she saw answered her question. Nick didn’t care that a crowd was watching. But he did release his hold on her waist, taking her hand and twining his fingers through hers as he led her off the dance floor.

But he didn’t lead her back to the table they’d occupied earlier, winding his way instead through the crowd to the bar, where he ordered another round of drinks for them. He pressed a twenty into her hand and leaned close to her ear. “Wait for the drinks, and I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t have a chance to question him before he disappeared into the crowd. A couple of minutes later, she saw him in the back corner, next to a staircase, talking to a burly bouncer with arms the size of Texas. The bouncer nodded, and Nick headed back in her direction as the bartender set their drinks in front of her.

“What was that about?” she asked, as Nick handed her a drink, took her other hand and picked up his own glass.

“You’ll see.”

They approached the stairs and the bouncer standing there looked rather ferocious from up close. Without saying anything, he reached behind him, unhooked a velvet rope and waved them past.

The noise of the bar receded as they climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down a dimly lit corridor past several closed doors. Nick finally stopped in front of one marked simply Six.

The door swung open easily, and curious, Evie stepped inside. A large window covered one wall, giving an unobstructed view of the stage and dance floor from above, and two leather-covered sofas were arranged in front of it. It was a small, intimate room with low lighting.

And privacy.

Her heart skipped a beat and she moved to the window. “This is one of those VIP rooms, isn’t it?”

Nick nodded as he closed the door behind him. Evie heard it snick into place, and the muscles in her thighs tightened.

“It is—a small one, though. Usually they’re a bit bigger. This one is designed for small business meetings as opposed to parties.” The thick carpeting muffled his footsteps as he moved across the room toward her.

“And we managed to get it how?” Forming words was very difficult, and she was pleased she wasn’t stuttering.

“I know the bouncer minding the rope. Dave owes me a favor, and since this room wasn’t being used at the moment…”

Wow. They’d been told to get a room and now they had one. Evangeline Harrison—the one who went to nice dinners at the Club and smiled her way through cocktail-party fundraisers—reeled in shock. The Evie she’d rediscovered tonight shivered at the possibilities.

“That panel to your left controls the speakers—you’ll be able to hear the band once they start up again.”

Who cared about the stupid band?

“And that—” he pointed to what looked like a key fob to a luxury car on the table “—signals for a server. They won’t enter unless you call for them.”

Nick was only an arm’s length away, and his intent was obvious. But he didn’t take the last step that would close the gap. She guessed he was leaving that up to her. Suddenly, she felt gauche and naive and unsure of herself. “Wow, they think of everything.”

Her hands were starting to tremble from the proximity and the need to touch him, and her drink sloshed over the rim. Nick held out his hand, and she handed him the glass. He set it on the table and held his hand out again.

There was a clear path to the door. She could push a button and have someone in here in just another minute.

It was her choice.

This time she placed her hand in his and welcomed the electricity that arced through her. One small step, and those strong arms closed around her, and the fire in her belly pulled the oxygen from her lungs. She required no encouragement at all to pull his head down to hers.

That hunger she’d felt earlier roared back to life full force, causing her to sway dangerously on her feet, and Nick’s arms tightened, steadying her.

One hot kiss melded into another as her greedy hands traced over the contours of his back, learning the musculature. Nick’s hands massaged the small of her back, sliding under the hem of her shirt to scorch her skin as his lips slid down her neck and his tongue dipped into the hollow behind her collarbone.

How they covered the short distance to the couch, she didn’t know, but then Nick was easing her down and moving over her.

Evie wanted to cry at the exquisite sensation of Nick’s body on hers, the heavy weight of him settling between her legs. The cool leather of the couch was such a contrast to the scorching heat of his skin. This was heaven; this was bliss and she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

Now.

A push and a tug and Nick was upright on the couch, and he helped settle her onto his lap with a lazy, appreciative smile. With her legs on either side of his strong thighs and her knees snugged up next to his hips, she pressed against the bulge in his pants and gasped as a bolt of heat shot though her.

It was easy to push his shirt up and over his head, baring sculpted bronze skin to her eager hands. The dusting of crisp black hair tickled her fingers as she explored the lines and planes of his chest, and she felt the muscles jump when she brushed her thumbs over his nipples.

She was shocking herself with her actions, but not Nick. His hungry look told her that much. Again she sent up a word of thanks for Las Vegas and men like Nick. Nick was unlike any of the men at home—they were too polished, too urbane, too domesticated. Nick’s rough edges excited her, made her feel as if she was dealing with something powerful and raw and untamed. It reached inside her, past the years of behaving herself, and released her.

More importantly, Nick seemed to like that part of her. Encourage it, even. It was a heady combination—the power and the freedom—and it frightened her a bit with its intensity.

Nick’s hands locked around her arms, pulling her down for another soul-stealing kiss. A moment later, she felt the straps at her shoulders give way. Then the zipper of her skirt. The fabric bunched under his hands as they made their way up her body with excruciating slowness. She lifted her arms and Nick pulled both items over her head, and she fought back a blush as his eyes moved appreciatively over her body.

His fingers brushed over the top of her lacy strapless bra, teasing her nipples and causing her thighs to clench. A quick twist of the clasp and it joined the rest of her clothes on the ground.

She hissed as Nick’s tongue snaked out to tease, then bit back a cry when he pulled her aching nipple into the moist heat of his mouth. His hands went to her waist, pressing down as he lifted his hips and pressed against her very needy core.

Oh, yesss.

A tug on his hair and Nick was kissing her again, his tongue sliding across hers in a way that made her insides melt and her breathing ragged. His hands cupped her face gently as she worked on his belt and slid his zipper down.

She caught his groan in her mouth as she palmed him, running her hand over the hard length of an impressive erection that made her shiver with anticipation. Nick’s eyes closed and he leaned back, his fingers digging into her thighs as she stroked him. Evie felt powerful, sexy, pleased she could make Nick feel even a part of that burning ache he stoked in her.

Nick suddenly surged forward, capturing her mouth in a savage kiss as he lifted her to the side easily with only one arm, using the other to slide her panties down her legs and off. That same dexterity had the rest of his clothes off in a blink, and he settled her back into her original position.

With a bravado she didn’t know she had, she managed to meet his eyes and hold the stare as he tickled his fingers along her inner thigh, teasing her before his thumb slipped between her damp folds and wrung a moan from her with barely a touch.

Nick cursed, and holding her in place, leaned forward and reached for the table. Confused, she turned her head in time to see him slide open a drawer. Condoms filled the small space.

They weren’t the first people to use this room for…She tried to swallow her shock. “Oh. Goodness.”

“These rooms are for private parties, too.”

Of course they are. Nick must think she was some kind of naive country girl. She tried to sound airy and sophisticated. “They really do think of everything here, don’t they?”

Nick’s smile caught her off guard. “Thank God they do.”

She couldn’t argue with that, and she was thankful Nick was coherent enough to remember the basics. Her brain had definitely checked out. Nick placed the condom on the cushion next to him and settled back into place.

In no rush, his hands began exploring her body again, teasing her nipples, sliding a strong finger inside her until her nails were digging into his biceps and she was gasping for breath.

An eternity later, she heard the beautiful sound of a condom packet being ripped open, and Nick was guiding her hips into position.

Evie couldn’t stifle her groan of pleasure as she sank slowly onto him, savoring each centimeter until they were completely locked together. Her thighs shook as she started to move, Nick’s hands helping her set the pace.

Sweet mercy, she was going to die, right here, from the sheer bliss of the feel of him in her. She let her forehead fall against his as the movement became more frantic, the pleasure sharper and more intense. She felt light-headed as the pressure built, radiating out until her entire body began to shake, and she threw her head back and screamed his name as she shattered into a thousand glittering pieces.

He’d never used one of his VIP lounges for sex before. He’d hosted a small gathering in this room only once: last year when they’d celebrated the purchase of the Starlight. He had good memories of that night, but tonight guaranteed he’d never look at this room the same way again. Every piece of furniture, the floor, even the long wall of windows, would now hold the image of Evie, naked and panting and crying out his name.

Evie lay back against the couch, her hair a tangle of curls cascading over the edge to nearly touch the carpet. The picture she created was more than enough to get his blood pumping again, although it shouldn’t be possible after he’d taken her so many times he’d lost count. But the band had long ago called it quits for the night, and the slowdown on the dance floor told him how late it was. He checked his watch to be sure.

He ran a hand over the leg Evie had draped across his lap, and she sighed contentedly. “Starlight closes at four. We should probably get dressed.”

Evie switched from sensual to shy in a heartbeat; the woman who’d clawed his back and screamed his name—repeatedly—couldn’t seem to meet his eyes now. A blush stained her cheeks as modesty returned about three hours too late, and she fumbled for her clothes.

“Um, okay…sure. Just give me a minute.”

Her face was redder than the desert sunset, and she practically ran for the attached bathroom, giving him a lovely view of her backside as she retreated.

He untangled his own clothes and pulled his shirt on over his head, surprised to find that the scent of Evie’s perfume clung faintly to it. The smell wasn’t a familiar one—he couldn’t place it. It was heady, yet subtle, exotic and unique.

Much like Evie.

She was tempting and seductive, yet there was a wholesome genuineness underneath. She seemed cautious to approach new things—even hesitant at times—but she had an adventurous streak that couldn’t be denied. Her honeyed Texas drawl wasn’t affected, but it gave way sometimes to something else, leading him to believe she wasn’t a true Dallas native.

Part of him thought she had to be from that Southern aristocracy he’d heard about; she had class, elegance and she could be unbelievably polite and well-mannered. At the same time, she lacked that air of superiority Old-Money people had: that belief they were somehow better than everyone else just because great-grandpa once owned half the town.

He had personal experience with Old Money and New Money. Vegas was full of New-Money people—hell, he was one of them—and he far preferred the New Money over the Old, even if he was, technically, biologically at least, both.

Evie returned—dressed, hair somewhat tamed—but still looking as if she’d been…well, having sex for the last four hours. Her lips were slightly swollen, and her jaw was a little red from where his stubble had rubbed.

Still not quite able to make eye contact, Evie retrieved her shoes from under the table and grabbed her purse. “I’m ready,” she claimed, as she hurried to slide her feet into the strappy silver sandals.

“Don’t rush. No one’s going to be banging down the door.”

“Well, I don’t want Dave to get in trouble for letting us up here.”

He bit back a smile at that.

“Here. Take these.” She pushed glassware into his hands and started straightening the cushions on the couch.

“You don’t have to do that, Evie.”

“If this room wasn’t supposed to be used tonight, they’ll know someone was up here when they see the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Evie frowned. “Nick…”

With no way to explain that wouldn’t tell her more about his finances than he wanted her to know, he bit his tongue and took the empty glasses.

Evie had to notice the number of strange looks sent their way as they came down the stairs. Earlier, when the place had been hopping, only a few people had noticed he was here. Now, with so few customers still hanging on, he could see the questions on every face of the Starlight staff.

Evie’s cheeks grew redder and redder and her feet moved faster, until she was out the door in almost a full trot. Outside, she leaned against a wall and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, my God, that was so embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Did you not see everyone staring at us? I felt like I was carrying a giant neon sign that said We Just Had Sex.”

He laughed, but smothered it with a cough when Evie turned stormy eyes on him. “It’s not funny.”

“You don’t know these people, and you’ll never see them again, so why do you care?”

Evie leaned her head back against the concrete wall. “I guess you’re right. That only makes it slightly less embarrassing.”

He’d never seen anyone die of embarrassment before, but Evie had to be close, so he took pity on her, even though he was loath to end their evening. “It’s late, and I have to work in the morning. I’ll take you back to your hotel. Where are you staying?”

“The Bellagio.” Her voice sounded small and he wondered why.

A taxi coasted to a stop, and he opened the door for Evie to climb in. In the backseat, Evie seemed even more withdrawn, a huge change from her brightness earlier. Unable to ask why when the cabbie was listening, he settled for lame small talk. “That’s a nice hotel. Have you had a chance to explore it?”

“Not really. Bennie—Sabine,” she corrected, “and I did a little shopping earlier today.”

“Bennie’s the friend who came with you?”

Evie nodded. “But I haven’t been to the casino yet. I’m not much of a gambler.”

“Don’t like it?”

“Don’t know how to play any of the games. I’ve played penny-ante poker with my brother and blackjack on my laptop, but that’s about it.”

“I could teach you.” Why had he offered that? He hadn’t been in a casino in years.

“You’d do that?” Evie brightened considerably. Maybe she really did want to learn to gamble.

“If you’d like.”

Her mood improved exponentially at that point, and by the time they pulled in at the Bellagio, Evie was almost back to her earlier self.

Including using her best manners. “I had a great time tonight, Nick. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Understatement of the year.

A Bellagio doorman opened the taxi door, and Nick slid out and extended a hand to Evie. Once she was on her feet, he slid a hand under her chin and turned her face up for a kiss.

Evie’s response was as voracious as before, and he let the kiss continue until the cabbie started complaining about the wait. Evie stepped back, another adorable blush rising over her cleavage.

“Do you know the bar that overlooks the fountain?”

She nodded.

“Meet me there at seven tonight.”

Evie’s smile could be breathtaking, especially when she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him one last time before finally turning to the doorman patiently holding the lobby door open.

At the door, she turned and waved.

He directed the cabbie to take him back to The Zoo, where he had left his car in a not-great alley off a side street. At the time, he only planned to be in the club for a couple of hours, tops. If he’d known it would be more like six, he’d have found a safer spot. Hopefully, it would still have a stereo and all four tires when he returned.

Hell, who was he kidding? He didn’t care, even as he noticed the broken window. A night with Evie was well worth the consequences.

Chapter Three

EVIE FELT LIKE SKIPPING through the Bellagio lobby, but ladies didn’t skip through hotel lobbies. She stamped down the urge.

She’d just had what was possibly the best night of her entire life, and even better, Nick wanted to do it again tonight. Ladylike or not, that thought put a bounce in her step anyway.

Even at this time of the night—or technically, morning—the lobby was active, the employees greeting her politely as if she didn’t look as if she’d just come in after a night of debauchery. She should feel exposed and embarrassed, since it was obvious what she’d been up to, but she realized that probably wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in Las Vegas.

And, as Nick had reminded her, it’s not as if she’d ever see these people again.

In the elevator, she slipped out of her shoes and stretched tiredly. The adrenaline and endorphin rush she’d been on all night dissipated quickly now that Nick wasn’t around to fuel it, and exhaustion settled heavily on her shoulders. An enormous yawn cracked her jaw, and she really, really needed to sleep.

She closed the door to the suite behind her quietly. Sabine’s shoes and evening bag were on the couch, and the door to her room was shut. Evie had no way of knowing if Bennie was alone in there or not.

And to be honest, she was too tired to care.

Evie collapsed on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was keyed up mentally, sated physically and totally exhausted. She should shower, maybe eat something, but her legs felt too heavy to move. Getting out of her clothes almost sounded like far too much work, but she managed to shimmy out of them and wrap a robe around herself before she pushed the button to close the drapes and crawled under the covers.

When she closed her eyes, Nick’s face was there. She could feel the imprint of his hands on her hips, taste him on her lips, hear that low growl. She wanted to relive every moment and savor the anticipation of tonight, but sleep was dragging her under quickly…

“Jeez, Evie, wake up. How hungover are you?”

Evie felt Sabine land on her bed next to her. “I’m not hungover. Just tired,” she mumbled. “Go ’way.”

“The day is half-over, and I still haven’t heard about your night. What time did you get in, anyway?”

“Dunno. Four-ish. Maybe?” She pulled the pillow over her head as Bennie pushed the button controlling the drapes and light flooded the room. “Late.”

“Way to go, Evie! I want details. Graphic ones.” Sabine shook her shoulder. “Spare nothing.”

Evie pried open her eyes and looked at the clock. After ten. “You lie. The day is not half-over. Wake me in another couple of hours.” She could go back to the dream where she and Nick were swimming in that cove not far from where she grew up on St. Kitts…

“Evie Harrison, I am dying for details.” Another shake. “Get up or I’ll call Will and tell him you stayed out all night.”

She didn’t believe Bennie would do such a horrible thing, but…“Fine. I’m up.” She untangled herself from the covers and sat up slowly.

Sabine giggled as Evie pushed her hair out of her faced and yawned. “You look awful.”

Bennie, as always, looked like one of Botticelli’s angels: adorable round face, curly blond hair, big blue eyes. Petite, thin and perky, Bennie was the perfect debutante. On the outside, at least. On the inside, she was more trouble than a biker gang at a Sunday School picnic. Sabine—unbeknownst to her family—was what Uncle Marcus would call a Bad Influence. It was why they were such good friends. “Thanks, Bennie. Just what I needed to hear. I feel awful, too.”

Sabine handed her a bottle of water and eyed her critically. “Good thing I made reservations at the spa. It’ll take them all afternoon just to take care of those bags under your eyes.”

“Oh, that sounds excellent.” Evie unscrewed the lid and drank deeply. Some of the cobwebs left her mind, and she felt better almost immediately. Nick had warned her that the desert air would dehydrate her. “How was your night? You and Toby have a good time? His name was Toby, right?”

Bennie smiled angelically. “What Toby lacks in finesse, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm and stamina. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but who needs conversation, anyway?” Bennie nudged her. “If I want to talk, I’ll call you.”

Evie scrubbed a hand over her face as she laughed. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I am a little achy this morning.” Rolling onto her back, Bennie stretched, then grinned. “But enough about me. I want to know who you hooked up with. I nearly died when I saw your text, and then when I beat you back to the room, I couldn’t believe it. Spill.”

“His name’s Nick.” A little smile tugged at her mouth.

Bennie nearly crowed. “I know that smile. Was he that good-looking or just that good?”

“Both. Tall, dark, drop-dead-oh-my-God gorgeous. Broad shoulders. Great arms, too.” Evie sighed, feeling like a school-girl with a crush.

Bennie echoed her sigh. “Oh, I love good arms.”

“I had a fabulous time, though.” Evie scooted to the head of the bed and leaned against the headboard.

“I can tell.”

“Not just that.” She tried for a disapproving frown, but Bennie laughed it off. “Well, the sex was fabulous, too, but we danced and talked—”

“Why on earth would you waste time talking if he was that hot?”

“Because I like to get to know people a little bit before I get naked with them.”

Bennie shrugged.

“So much fun and absolutely no pressure at all to do anything except enjoy myself. Have I mentioned how much I love this town?”

“I would, too, if I’d hooked up with a hottie like your Nick. Are you going to see him again?”

She could feel the goofy smile tugging at her cheeks. “He wants to do something again tonight. If you have other plans, that is. Are you seeing Toby again?”

“Lord, honey, even if I wasn’t, I’d expect you to go with Nick. That’s why you came here, after all.”

Evie felt her jaw drop. “You think I came to Vegas just to hook up?”

Sabine was wide-eyed. “Didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t my primary agenda, no. I wanted to let off a little steam, drink a little, let my hair down and dance.” She raised an eyebrow at Bennie. “I came to Vegas to have a girls’ weekend.”

“Then I misunderstood. My bad.” Bennie was wonderfully unrepentant. “But now you’ve found someone yummy, so you should make the most of it. And take a few pictures tonight. I wanna see this god who’s got your libido doing the lambada.”

“I’ll try,” she promised and her stomach growled. She pounced on the distraction eagerly, not really sure she wanted to go into too much more detail with Bennie at this point. She wanted to hug it all to herself for a little while longer. “I’m starved. Is there anything in the minibar besides pretzels?”

“I took the liberty of ordering brunch. If you can hang on a little longer without falling away to a shadow, it should be here about another twenty minutes or so.” Bennie gave her a once-over. “I’d recommend you use that time to grab a shower and sort out your hair. You really do look a mess.”

“I do not!”

Sabine merely raised an eyebrow. “Our first appointment is at twelve-fifteen. I’ve booked the works—massage, manicure, pedicure, facial and a detoxifying hydrotherapy bath. What time are you meeting him?”

“Seven.” Her pulse kicked up at the thought.

“What are you wearing?”

Damn, she had no idea what Nick had planned. “Not a clue.”

“Then we’d better get moving. We may have to shop.”

“You are an angel, Bennie.” Evie leaned over and kissed her cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Based solely on today? Sleep all day, starve and be celibate and inappropriately dressed.” Sabine threw her legs over the side of the bed and started to leave. In the doorway, she paused and turned around. “Hmm, I think I’ll call the spa back and add a wax for you.” She winked.

In the shower, Evie debated whether she should go tonight. Last night had just happened. The stars or whatever aligned to give her one wonderful night, and she should just leave it at that—a perfect memory. What if tonight didn’t turn out, as well…? Who was she kidding? Tonight would be just as good as last night.

Although she would like to have a bed this time. She had a bit of a crick in her neck from last night.

She didn’t even sound like herself. Standing here planning to…This wasn’t like her at all. There was her usual life, and then there was…

Then there was Nick.

Bennie was right. She’d needed this. Needed someone like Nick to shake her up a little. Las Vegas had to be the next best thing to heaven.

Evie turned the tap off. Sabine must’ve been listening for the water to stop, because a second later, her voice drifted through the open door. “Food’s here. And your phone was ringing.”

Evie wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled a robe around her. Sabine was already at the table, munching on a bagel, and Evie’s stomach growled. Grabbing a muffin, she took a hungry bite as she picked up her phone. Three missed calls and three messages: the first one time-stamped at eight this morning.

And every one of them was from her brother.

Damn.

The mystery and memory of Evie—and her unbelievably long legs—had haunted Nick in the four hours of sleep he’d managed to get last night before Kevin and business forced him out of bed.

By the time lunch rolled around, he’d almost convinced himself that Evie hadn’t been real. Or at least not as he remembered. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen in Las Vegas; tourists out for a good time were even more plentiful. Evie was just one in a crowd—maybe he’d built more into it simply because he’d been so immersed in business he had, as Kevin insisted, gotten jaded and forgotten how to have plain ol’ fun.

But that rational knowledge didn’t stop him from spending way too much time deciding on a plan for tonight. He could call in a favor, get seats to the best shows or a table at the most exclusive restaurant, but he didn’t want to try to impress Evie like that. He liked not having a woman know how much his bank account was worth—it tended to skew the genuineness of their reactions. And after last night, he knew that wasn’t really what Evie liked anyway. She had simple tastes and didn’t need ostentatious displays to have a good time.

Since he didn’t want to waste all that time at shows and restaurants anyway…That gave him the perfect idea.

Kevin was in the offices at Blue—the first club Nick had purchased outright and, for sentimental reasons, still the main hub—when Nick called. And while Kevin had a mouthful of things to say about it, Nick knew it would be done.

And when Evie turned out to be less than he remembered? He shrugged. They’d still have a good time, and he’d go easily back to normalcy tomorrow.

At just a minute after seven, Nick was on the Bellagio patio watching the door while everyone else watched the fountains do their thing. When Evie walked in, nervously chewing on her bottom lip, he felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of his lungs.

A shimmery green dress hugged those luscious curves he’d memorized last night, the neckline plunged to reveal generous cleavage, and the hem stopped high enough to showcase her long legs. She’d piled her hair up on her head, exposing the line of her neck and emphasizing her bone structure.

If anything, his memory of last night couldn’t compete with the reality.

She scanned the crowd, and when her eyes met his, she smiled shyly—at complete odds with the sensual picture she created. He wanted to meet her halfway, but his feet seemed rooted to the floor.

Then he noticed the attention she was garnering from several other places in the bar—one man was even on his feet and headed in her direction—and that kicked him into motion, a need to claim her taking hold.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered as Evie turned her face up to his.

“I didn’t know if you’d actually come tonight or not.”

“How could you possibly doubt that?” He inhaled deeply and her scent shot through his veins, sending all of his blood south. They were in a hotel, for God’s sake; he could have a room and have her in it in less than five minutes.

And that seemed like far too long to wait.

Evie smoothed a hand along his arm, scorching him with her touch. “You look nice.” Her hand moved to his jaw. “You shaved. I kind of miss the sexy stubble.”

She was killing him.

“Should we get a table?” she asked, looking around.

That brought him back to the conversation. “No. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Evie’s eyes lit up. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

Evie brushed at her dress. “Is what I’m wearing okay for this surprise? I wasn’t sure about the dress code…”

That scrap of fabric barely counted as a complete dress, and he was already imagining peeling it off of her. “Like I said, you look beautiful. Let’s go.”

Evie’s heels clicked against the floor of the lobby, reminding him to slow down. He wasn’t an animal dragging Evie off to mate—regardless of what his instincts were urging him to do. He could at least attempt civilized conversation. “What did you do today?”

“Slept late, hung out with Bennie. You?”

“Got up early, went to work.”

“Ouch. Sorry.”

Even the valet gawked at Evie as he returned with the car, but a frown from Nick put a stop to it. Evie didn’t seem to notice that attention any more than she’d noticed the men in the bar. She was a danger to herself and others if she really didn’t know the effect she had on men. But how could she not? Beautiful women knew they were beautiful, knew what it could do for them.

It only took a few minutes to get to Blue, and Evie looked around eagerly as he pulled into the parking lot. “Blue. Is it a nightclub? Are we going dancing again?”

He flashed back on the memory of Evie moving against him on the dance floor and groaned. That would kill him for sure. “Patience.”

“Sorry. I know it’s rude to ask so many questions. I’ll be good.”

That promise brought a visual he really didn’t need at the moment, and he quickly opened the door before he mauled her in the parking lot. The hand Evie tucked under his arm caressed his bicep as if they were truly lovers, and he wondered if she was intentionally trying to drive him insane.

Blue was almost deserted at this early hour, which was fine by him. The bouncers merely nodded as he and Evie passed and the bartenders waved.

“Everyone seems to know you,” Evie said.

“I know the owner, so I’m here a lot.” He led her past a velvet rope and down the back hallway.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be back here,” Evie whispered as she tugged against his hand.

At the elevator, he pulled her close. “I told you, I know the owner. Don’t worry.”

She looked around, clearly unconvinced. “Is there anyone in Vegas you don’t know or who doesn’t owe you a favor?”

“I’ve lived here a long time, Evie.”

“I do not want to get arrested in Las Vegas.” Her eyes narrowed as the elevator doors opened, and she stared pointedly at the sign marked Private.

“You’re not going to get arrested. I promise.” Evie still looked suspicious. “I thought you’d like to do something a bit different, so I made a couple of calls this afternoon. Look,” he added as the doors opened onto the roof.

Evie gasped. Facing west, they had a great view of the sun starting to set.

“Later in the summer it gets too hot to be up here at this time, but it’s about perfect now.” And he wasn’t just referring to the weather.

“It’s gorgeous,” Evie said as she crossed to the chest-high wall that enclosed the patio. “Is this another VIP-type room?”

“Sort of.” Blue’s rooftop was very exclusive, but Evie had no way of knowing that. He’d hired one of the best designers in Las Vegas to create an oasis here: plenty of green plants, indirect lighting, low couches canopied with gauzy fabrics, small fountains. A giant shade stretched overhead to keep the worst of the sun off, but also gave the roof an intimate feel. Kevin called it the Sheik’s Tent.

“This is…wow.”

He agreed. Evie looked fabulous backlit by the sunset—she seemed to glow. She moved away from the edge to run a hand along the back of a chaise, then moved to examine the table set for two.

She raised an eyebrow as he lifted the champagne out of its bucket. “A private party?”

“Only a very select guest list.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Evie’s mouth. “Be sure and thank the owner for me. This is absolutely perfect.” Before he could respond, Evie was pressed against him, her hands sliding to his shoulders as she rose up on her toes. “The elevator is locked? All the guests are here?”

He slid his fingers into her hair and found the combs holding it up. One small tug and it tumbled around her shoulders. “Uh-huh.”

“Good.” Then Evie’s mouth met his.

The want that had slowly simmered in his veins all day boiled over in that instant, and his hands tightened in her hair to hold her. Evie’s fingers gripped his shoulders, and her nails stabbed against his skin when his mouth moved to the column of her neck and her head dropped back to allow him better access.

She sighed, then shivered, as he tasted her, and the shiver moved through him, as well. Nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, and she slid her hands across his bare chest before she wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself against him again.

Evie’s height had their bodies aligned perfectly—her breasts rubbed against his chest and he felt the hard points of her nipples through the thin material of her dress.

He walked backward, pulling Evie with him, until he felt the edge of the couch butt against his calves. Evie groaned in protest as he broke the kiss to lower her down, her hands fisting in his shirt to pull him down to join her.

Déjà vu. Only better.

Maybe Kevin was on to something calling the roof the Sheik’s Tent. Nick certainly felt like the Sultan of Something, lying on a couch with a mostly naked Evie draped across him as they nibbled on fruit and cheese and watched the city lights cause the sky to glow.

Evie’s bag started to ring, and she wrinkled her nose. But she didn’t move beyond examining another strawberry.

“Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Not just no, hell no.” She picked up her champagne flute and drank deeply.

He’d never met a woman who could resist a phone. “Why not?”

“That’s my brother’s ringtone. And I am not in the mood to deal with my butthead of a brother.”

It was the first time she’d mentioned anyone in her family specifically. “Family problems?”

“Yeah. No. Sort of.” She sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. “I left town without telling him, and he’s a bit peeved about it. He’s left me several voice mails this weekend telling me exactly how much.”

“Your brother is upset you left town?”

“My parents died when I was young. Will and Gwen—she’s his wife—took me in and raised me. So Will treats me rather like a child.”

“And you’re dodging his calls? No offense, but isn’t that a little childish?”

Evie smacked him playfully. “You don’t know my brother.”

“As you said, you are an adult. What could he possibly do to you?”

“Nothing but yell at me, but that’s never stopped him before. Will’s just…He’s a…” She sat up and pulled his shirt closed around her. “Something happened earlier this week—nothing major—but it got blown a bit out of proportion. He got mad, and I got mad and now I’m AWOL because I wanted a break from the drama. I certainly don’t want to hear it while I’m here.” She sighed and grimaced. “Will thinks he’s the master of the whole freakin’ universe and, therefore, in charge of everything.”

“Including you.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Definitely including me. I know he means well, but, dear God, it gets old. It got old about the time I turned twenty-one. Do you have any siblings?”

“No.” Thank God. It was tough enough getting himself out, if he’d had to worry about siblings, too…“It was just me and my father after my mother left.”

Evie’s eyes clouded. “Your mom left?”

He stiffened at the question. He very rarely spoke of his mother, and those that knew the story had learned long ago not to broach the subject. He couldn’t fault Evie for asking since he’d brought it up, but he was surprised at himself that he’d let it slip out.

Evie blanched. “I’m sorry. That was terribly rude of me to ask such a personal question. Please don’t feel like you owe me any response at all. Forget I said anything.”

She seemed so sincere, he almost wished he could explain. “No apology necessary, Evie. I just don’t like to talk about it.”

“Why don’t we just not talk about our families? Everyone has some nuts on the family tree—some are just more annoying than others.”

“And some think they’re the master of the universe.”

“Indeed. He’ll have plenty of opportunity to yell at me tomorrow when I get home. Why settle for the telephone version when the live action is so much more interesting.”

It seemed Evie had an interesting family dynamic. But they’d called a halt to all uncomfortable family discussions, so he didn’t press the topic.

“It’s a shame you have to go back so quickly.”

Evie shrugged as she settled her head against his chest and traced circles on his skin. “But if I ever make it back to Vegas…”

“Give me a call,” he finished.

She pressed a kiss on his chest and he responded by rolling her to her back and settling his body between her legs. Evie looked adorably mussed—hair tangled from his hands, mouth slightly swollen—and sexy as hell. He rested his chin on her chest, enjoying the silky feel of her skin as she toyed with his hair.

Evie ran her thumb over his eyebrow, and he knew what was coming next. “How’d you get this scar?”

“Bar fight.”

She laughed, causing her body to move under his in a way guaranteed to get his attention. “No, seriously.”

“I am serious. A guy swung a bottle, and I got this.”

“Oh, my gosh, I’ve never met anyone who’s even witnessed a bar fight, much less been in one.” She looked at him oddly. “Who started it? Was it over a girl? Like last night at The Zoo?”

“I wasn’t in the fight, Evie, I was trying to break it up.” Understanding crossed her face, and she nodded. “It was part of my job—breaking up fights, that is. I was working at this sleazy joint when I was in high school—”

Evie’s eyes went wide. “High school? Isn’t that a little bit illegal?”

“Maybe. But I needed a job and Henry—the owner—needed a bar back and someone to help break up fights.”

“The fights were a regular occurrence?”

“I told you, testosterone and alcohol are a dangerous mix.”

She grinned. “What about the pretty girl?”

“Not always necessary—especially in sleazy joints.”

“Were you this big in high school?” She ran her hands over his shoulders as she asked, and the openly appreciative look on her face caused his body to harden again.

“About.”

Evie’s hands were now on his arms, tracing his biceps. “Linebacker for the football team?”

He could have been, had he not had to work. “Nope.”

“Let me guess, between your size and your scowl, you’re good at breaking up bar fights.”

To the best of his knowledge, he hadn’t scowled since Evie landed in his arms last night. That had to be a world record—but Evie didn’t know that. “What makes you think I scowl?”

She ran a finger across his forehead. “This crease here. Definitely caused by scowling.” Evie trailed her finger down over his cheek and to his lips. “Who do you scowl at now?”

“Drunks in bars. Such is the hospitality industry in Las Vegas.” He captured her finger between his lips and sucked gently. Under his chin, he felt her heartbeat accelerate.

“So that’s how you know the owner of this place—and everyone else.” She smirked. “Well, you certainly are hospitable.”

He nipped at her finger, causing her to jump. He pushed himself up, wedging his hips firmly between hers, and caught her gasp in his mouth.

Evie’s hands slid up his back as her tongue slipped inside his mouth to torment him. She echoed his groan as his hands tangled in her hair, and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Faintly, he heard her phone ring again.

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