What Happens in Vegas…

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.