The last thing she needed was another glass of wine, but Cleo accepted it gratefully. It might help settle her nerves.
“Thank him, please.”
Cleo smiled at the server, who nodded and made her way back to the bar.
“Something tells me there’s more to your encounter than you’re letting on and the Cardassian over there is involved.” Mitch stretched her shoulders. “I can’t wait to hear the details.”
“Let’s just say my Cardassian arrived in the nick of time.”
Mitch arched her eyebrows but made no comment. She turned back and smiled at the person waiting at the table and returned to author mode.
Cleo looked toward the bar where her hero was watching her intensely once more. Since he could see her watching him, there was no point in denying her interest. She acknowledged the glass of wine he’d sent her by raising it to her lips and nodding. She had to be honest with herself. She’d been interested in her knight in Cardassian armor before, but now she was fascinated by him. A girl had her pride, but after his gallant rescue, pride be damned. Who was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Gray? She hoped for the chance to find out.
She sipped the Blood Wine, a nice merlot relabeled for the occasion, her fourth one tonight. She probably shouldn’t drink it. She’d begun to feel relaxed before her encounter with Mr. Trouble. She needed to eat something and drink some water, too. At the moment, partially hidden by the curtain, she felt warm and safe, and she preferred that feeling to her earlier panic.
She sighed. What if he wasn’t the guy from the VooDoo Lounge but someone else? The eyes had seemed familiar, but she could have been mistaken. Did it really matter? Besides, the guy in the lounge had been with someone else, and if he was a Chippendale like Mitch suggested, then there was no way she could consider spending any time with him. If anyone saw her with a male stripper, she’d be out of a job so fast, she’d get whiplash. This guy was interested in her, she was attracted to him, and the kiss had been incredible, even if it was what might have triggered the Romulan’s boorish behavior. What was it Mitch always said? Lighten up, Cleo. Yes, she needed to do just that.
She moved away from her haven and took a deep breath. She smiled at the men crowding around the front of the booth, some waiting for an autograph from Mitch, others trying to proposition the two of them—or at least Cleo. Over the next ten minutes, she managed to relax and try to be less standoffish. She tried to see the humor in the situation. These people were just playing. At least none of these guys were as crass as some of the others had been. Just how much money was twenty bars of gold-pressed latinum? While she kept up a friendly banter with her would-be admirers, she continued to sneak glances at her Cardassian savior.
That’s how she knew when the two men got up from the bar, and she was disappointed. So much for my fantasies. What would we talk about anyhow? The last few years my repertoire’s been limited to archaeology, photography, and the day-to-day antics of kindergarten students. Hardly stellar conversation or decent pick-up lines. She turned away and started packing up the extra swag for tomorrow.
“Don’t look now, but I think your Cardassian and his friend are on their way over,” Mitch said. “I knew he’d be back. He’s been watching you all evening.”
Cleo jerked her head around. Mitch was right. They were definitely coming this way. Painted gray or not, the man was gorgeous, but dreaming about getting to know him and actually doing it were two different things. He smiled at her and her breath caught in her throat. Heat pooled low in her stomach.
“Oh God, Mitch, I can’t do this. I thought I could, but … I’ve had way too much to drink. I swear I’ll melt if he touches me again.”
She was babbling as she looked around for an escape route, but the room was so crowded she couldn’t see the doors.
“Drink, schmink. You’ve had four glasses of wine in three hours—that’s not even enough for a good buzz. Just relax. Be yourself. The kiss was good, right?”
“The kiss was awesome.”
“So what’s the problem? Just imagine how great the sex would be!”
Cleo gasped. “Mitch!” Was it that obvious she had the hots for this guy? She felt her skin heat beneath the makeup. She prayed the damn paint didn’t start to run. That’d be the last straw.
Mitch laughed so hard she snorted.
“You should see your face. Breathe, Cleo; I’m just joking. Let me do the talking. Just remember the cover stories we discussed. You’re Cleopatra Jones from Hidden Valley, Alberta, and I’m Mitch Hutchins from Vulcan. We’re here for a good time and damn the rules of daily life. Like they say, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Your dad will never hear a word of it from me.”
Cleo smiled weakly and nodded. I’m an adult. I wanted some excitement in my life, some grown-up fun … well, here it comes. Let’s hope I have a life to go back to when this weekend’s over.
She watched carefully as the two men picked their way through the crowd and approached the booth. The closer they came, the more convinced she was she’d never carry this off. She was way out of her league. She’d hardly dated since the fiasco with Dave, and that had been six years ago. Even Mitch didn’t realize how out of practice she was. At least, based on what he’d said to the Romulan, he wouldn’t expect her to behave like the sexy creature she portrayed.
“Hey, Mitch Hutchins. I’ve read some of your stuff. Fire World was excellent. I’d been meaning to get this book,” the Cardassian soldier she didn’t know said in greeting.
“Glad you liked it. The reviews were great, and my agent’s been talking to a Hollywood producer. You guys are lucky. These are my last two copies tonight. Names?”
“Charlie and Sam. I’m Charlie.”
Mitch autographed the books, handing one to Charlie and the other to Sam. Cleo held her breath, praying Mitch wouldn’t say anything to call attention to her.
“Nice to see you back, Gul.” Mitch used the Cardassian term for Sam’s rank. “I believe you extricated my friend here from a nasty situation a little while ago. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“So, are you finished for the night?” Charlie asked.
Mitch smiled. “Yup. Time to relax and have some fun. We Klingon ladies love to play. Do you?”
“Sure, but I’ve heard Klingon females can be a little rough. Can I buy you a drink?”
Mitch laughed, obviously enjoying herself. Cleo wished she could relax and flirt the way her friend did, but she simply wasn’t wired that way. Mitch had a friendly, easy-going temperament and was having the time of her life, while she was so nervous that the next breath she took could well be her last. Sam’s presence seemed to be sucking the oxygen out of the air around her. What was it about this guy that affected her this way?
“Take a number. There are about twenty guys ahead of you,” Mitch answered, threw back her head, and roared.
Cleo giggled nervously at Charlie’s crestfallen look, proof she’d definitely had too much wine. Hiccups usually followed. She jumped when Sam placed his hand on her shoulder. His touch sent shock waves through her body. He laughed softly, and the sound of it sent goose bumps racing along her overheated skin. Sam hadn’t taken his eyes off her since he’d walked up to the booth. She felt the heat of his gaze all the way to the bottom of her toes, and the sensation thrilled her.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I shouldn’t have stolen that kiss,” he whispered.
Cleo didn’t know whether to be happy or crushed. He regretted the kiss?
He turned to Mitch and raised his voice. “Since I’m hoping the slave girl is coming with me, and you’re together, does that give him a boost up the list?”
Mitch narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You’re pretty sure of yourself aren’t you, lover boy? What makes you think she’s going with you?”
“What makes you think she won’t?” he countered. He turned to Cleo. “Will you come with me and let me atone for my bad behav
ior?”
The pleading and warmth in his eyes and his voice mesmerized her. She slowly nodded her head. His eyes, filled with passion, bored into hers. She trembled, and he must have noticed it, because he chuckled, breaking the intensity of the moment.
“Don’t worry. I won’t bite, at least not tonight. I’m apologizing, remember?”
He winked and her legs turned to jelly.
“Just a couple of drinks, that’s all I’m asking. There’s dancing in the next salon. I’d love to get to know you.” Sam’s voice was sincere.
Cleo felt a thrill of excitement. His kiss had been mind-blowing, and if she wanted an experience to last a lifetime, this man could definitely provide it. Desire pooled low in her stomach.
“What do you say, Cleo?” Mitch urged. “I think a little more vino and dancing is just what we need.”
Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, Cleo nodded. She prayed she’d survive the night without combusting. She’d never been this sexually attracted to a man before. Knowing she was required to say something, she worried her lower lip between her teeth and searched for some innocuous comment to make.
“I’d like that. I haven’t been dancing in ages.” Duh, is that the best I can come up with?
The last time she’d been dancing had been at her cousin Larry’s wedding four years ago, and the person she’d danced with had been her sixty-year-old uncle. Something told her this was going to be a very different experience. She remembered the feel of Sam’s body pressed against hers when he’d kissed her. The thought raised her temperature.
“I’d love to hold you in my arms again. I’m Sam Mason, by the way.”
He held out his hand. If it were possible, the desire in his eyes would have turned her to cinders.
She reached for his extended hand and wished she could grab the table to steady herself. There was an awareness here, something beyond the alcohol she’d consumed, something she wanted to explore. Do I dare?
She looked up at him. Chemistry; it’s just chemistry. He studied her, his eyes hooded, and she could have sworn he’d felt it, too.
“Cleopatra Jones, my friends call me Cleo.” Her voice had a husky quality to it, unlike her usual kindergarten teacher voice. She watched a strange look cross Sam’s face as if he was disappointed. He probably suspected it wasn’t her name. It was a common reaction she often got when she was first introduced, but it really was her name—well, kinda. Her father had thought naming her Catherine Cleopatra after her mom and two of the most powerful women of their eras boded well for his daughter’s future. Since her mom had been Catherine too, she was Cleo. It had been less confusing that way. Only her dad ever called her Catherine Cleopatra, and when he did, she was usually in trouble.
“That’s a name you don’t hear very often. Are you an author as well?”
There was something in his tone that made her feel defensive.
“No, I’m not, and I can tell you think I’m lying to you, but I can assure you, Sam, Cleopatra is my name. My dad chose it. He’s into history and mythology. We had two cats, Hercules and Venus. Cleo isn’t so bad if you don’t mind sharing your name with a fish from a Disney feature film. It could have been worse.”
He laughed. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that Vegas is full of people with aliases. I thought it was a pen name. Let’s get out of here before I have to arm wrestle every alien in the place for you. I’d win of course.”
He tucked her arm in his and pulled her close, increasing the strange sensations that pulsed through her. Mitch and Charlie walked ahead of them, laughing and talking as if they were old friends, and as she watched her friend, she wished she were more like her.
Chapter Four
Sam and Cleo were halfway across the room when Cleo noticed the curious glances they were getting, not only from the men, but the women too. In fact, it looked as if every woman in the room would gladly switch places with her. She was so busy absorbing this new information that she almost stumbled and didn’t notice the man dressed as Thor until he planted himself in front of her and blocked her path. He swayed, demonstrating he’d definitely had too much to drink.
“Leaving already, sweetheart? You know, I was just getting ready to make my move.” The half dozen superheroes Cleo noticed standing nearby laughed. “You’re way too hot to waste it on this guy.” He indicated Sam. “He’s just an alien snake man. I’m twice the man he is and a god and an Avenger to boot. Let me show you how a god kisses. Come here.”
He reached out abruptly and grabbed her hair, yanking her hard against him. Pain filled her and Cleo squealed.
Suddenly she was free, and the Norse god in question was on the floor, her Cardassian soldier holding him down with a boot on his chest. Hotel security guards, dressed in the infamous Star Trek red shirts, the first guys to die in any episode, rushed to the scene.
“Unless you plan on returning to Asgard permanently, you need to leave, now. Get this asshole out of here.” He looked at the man’s friends. “I suggest you leave, too.”
Sam spoke with authority. Cleo realized, from the tone of his voice, he was used to being obeyed and, from the way the security men nodded, he wasn’t a stranger to them. Perhaps he was one of those so-called whales who frequented the casinos. Men with lots of money who gambled big commanded a lot of respect.
Filthy rich is almost as bad as being a Chippendale. Why can’t he be a nice, normal guy?
“Don’t any of you even think of coming anywhere near her again this weekend. If you do, you’ll regret it,” Sam ordered Thor and his superhero friends, but it sounded as if he were addressing every man in the room. His voice was low and menacing, the threat of violence clear and explicit. Cleo was glad he was on her side. He’d make a powerful enemy. Sam turned to the curiosity seekers who’d gathered around them. “Show’s over.”
Contempt dripped from his voice and Cleo frowned. Once again, she’d been involved unwittingly in actions that had attracted a crowd, and she was grateful to see it disperse. She hadn’t noticed any flashes, and without one, it was too dark in here for a decent picture. Thor grumbled loudly, but allowed himself to be escorted out of the conference room, his friends following along. This was the second time Sam had saved her from some lecherous pig. Disgusted, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. She turned to look for Mitch and Charlie, but they’d disappeared into the crowd. Sam reached for her hand again and led her out into the concourse.
“This is becoming a habit I’d really like to break.” Cleo couldn’t keep the frustration out of her voice. “Thanks for your help. I’m usually quite capable of standing up for myself. I may not enjoy confrontation, but I’m not helpless. What is it with these guys? I’ll admit the outfit’s a little skimpy, but it’s a costume. I’m not pretending to be an Orion slave girl, I’m just dressed like one—big difference in my book. What makes men think it’s okay to touch, leer at, or proposition me? I read the flier in the room. It mentioned the anti-harassment policies and procedures.
“You started all this. You shouldn’t have kissed me. It’s what got these jerks all hot and bothered in the first place.” She scowled at him.
“You’re right. I’ve apologized for it, but it isn’t enough. I had no business kissing you like that. I’m just as guilty as the next guy, but it wasn’t the costume that excited me. It was you. Forgive me?”
She read sincerity in his eyes. “I suppose. After all, the kiss was a reward, right?”
“It was, but I should have waited until it was offered, not taken it like that. Just because I want something doesn’t mean I can have it. It’s a problem I have that needs work. I’ll talk to those in charge, get them to add more security, especially near the restrooms. Maybe they can post that code of conduct from the flyer you mentioned in a few places around the room. I’ll admit I didn’t read it. Maybe if I had, I’d have thought twice about the kiss—no, I probably would have done it anyway, but I’d have apologized sooner.”
Cleo looked at him and
started to laugh. He reminded her of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He’d say he was sorry, but he’d steal another cookie first chance he got and you knew it.
“People need to be accountable for their actions.” Sam shook his head. “The worst of it was not one person gave me shit for kissing you that way. No one tried to help you with the Romulan. They should have. For the record, you’d stand out regardless of what you’re wearing. I think the costume is perfect, and I hope the ideas it’s giving me won’t be too far out of line, but I promise I’ll ask first.”
She looked into his eyes, saw desire there, and shivered in anticipation. Sam took her hand in his. “Let’s find the others.”
They entered the salon decorated in an outer space theme giving the impression of a nightclub on a distant planet. The ceiling was covered in fabric behind which white twinkle lights shone, simulating stars. Tables were covered in black cloths and featured exotic flowers in vases lit from underneath, giving them an out-of-this-world look. Cleo recognized bird of paradise, orchids, banana, ginger flowers and a few others. Each flower was accompanied by greenery, some of which had been sprayed every color of the rainbow.
In the far corner, a three-dimensional mural of the eight planets from the sun’s perspective had been set up, and a photographer waited to snap pictures of couples who wanted a permanent souvenir of the occasion—for a price of course.
A band dressed like the one from the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars, played Europe’s The Final Countdown while costumed dancers of all ages gyrated to the music. Cleo looked around, trying to spot a Klingon/Cardassian couple.
“I don’t see Charlie and Mitch. I guess they must have gone into another room.”
Now that her indignation at being treated like a piece of meat had cooled, she wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t want to ask what kind of ideas Sam was getting—the kind he’d have to ask permission to act on; she’d rather just imagine those. Mitch was the one with all the glib lines. Cleo might be dressed like a temptress, but seduction was way out of her comfort zone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been left alone with a virtual stranger. The few dates she’d had were with colleagues who shared a common interest. Why did small talk always look so easy the movies? She struggled for something interesting to say, praying Mitch and Charlie would show up to rescue her soon. She could always make an excuse and leave, but, truth be told, she didn’t want to leave her Cardassian just yet.
Just for the Weekend Page 4