James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 02]

by Woman In Charge (lit)

  "What's that supposed to mean? I'm just doing my job. A job I take pride in, for your information."

  His expression eased, the guarded distance in his eyes dissolving a fraction.

  "Okay. You're right. We do need all the help we can get. The VIP tour is a good idea. I promise I'll be ready by the time the ticket office opens."

  "What about breakfast?” she asked, trying hard to stay the professional even though Alex insisted upon goading her. “Would you care to join me?"

  "Sure.” He leaned close. “I wouldn't miss finding out if you like your eggs sunny-side up ... or over hard,” he drawled.

  His blatant suggestion combined with the warmth of his breath on her ear made Casey's heart skip a dozen beats. What was he trying to do, drive her crazy? She should be offended, she should walk away, but instead she longed for him to take her down.

  "Stop ... teasing me,” she managed around a lump in her throat. She needed to be strong and put a stop to this.

  "Who's teasing?” His lips brushed the sensitive flesh of her ear, sending shockwaves of awareness pulsing through her body.

  Oh. My. God. She didn't have the strength to stop anything because she tingled—everywhere.

  "You are ... teasing,” she said, breathless. In desperate need of air, smelling salts and a stiff drink, she managed to move her feet and turned to face him. She wasn't about to let him trifle with her heart and then drop her cold when this job was over. She stiffened her spine, ready to put him in his place. “You're a difficult man, Mr. Roy."

  He grinned. “Am I? I thought I was just the one in control for a change."

  Casey's jaw dropped. Damn the man. He obviously got a kick out of riling her. Lifting her chin she attempted to exude a confidence she didn't feel. She headed for a safer territory—the registration desk.

  "May I help you?” the young, pretty desk clerk asked in her easy southern drawl.

  "Yes. We have reservations for two rooms under Casey Burrows."

  "Burrows. Burrows.” She tapped away on the computer. “Hmm. I'm sorry. I'm not finding any reservations listed under that name."

  "There has to be. I placed them online last Monday night."

  "I'm sorry. Do you have a confirmation number?"

  "Yes.” Casey placed her purse on the counter and rifled through the contents, confident she wouldn't find the reservation form she'd printed, but made a good show of looking anyway. She distinctly remembered placing the confirmation in a file marked Graceland—a file neatly organized with other pending files she kept in her desk. “But I don't have it with me. It's back at the office.

  "Need some help?” Alex asked, joining Casey at the desk. The desk clerk shot him a pearly white smile and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  "No thanks. I've got it under control.” She gathered up the contents of her purse she'd placed on the counter and started stuffing it all back where it'd come from.

  "Looks that way,” he quipped.

  "Would there be another name the reservation could be under?” the twenty-something woman asked.

  "Susanna,” Alex said, looking at the woman's name tag. “Did you look under Studs for Hire? Maybe our reservations got put under the company name."

  "Studs ... for Hire?” Susanna asked, a little breathless as she looked at Alex.

  Casey gritted her teeth. God. Breathlessness was contagious. She could see the wheels turning behind Susanna's dreamy eyes—forming the wrong idea—as she drooled over Alex.

  Alex stood there, a sexy smile on his face for Susanna, doing nothing to dispel her mistaken impression. By the look on Susanna's face, Alex was certainly making her night, heck, making her year.

  "We're a construction company,” Casey said, hoping to regain Susanna's attention. “You know houses? Two-by-fours? Plumbing? We're here to do some research for a remodeling project."

  "Construction company?” Susanna asked as if in a daze.

  "Yes,” Casey said firmly, feeling tired and irritated.

  And jealous. Yes. She was jealous. And she didn't want to feel jealous. Dammit.

  "Well, if he works for Studs for Hire,” Susanna said, nodding at Alex. “You're hired. Now I wished I owned a house,” she giggled.

  "I could design one for you. I'm an architect.” Alex winked and Susanna blushed.

  "Sorry, our territory doesn't branch out this far,” Casey said, interrupting their flirting session. “Now, about our reservations. Did you find anything?"

  "Reservation? Oh, yeah.” She turned back to her computer and started punching in letters again. “Here it is. It is under Studs for Hire. Two rooms? Is that right?"

  "That's right,” Alex said. Susanna's smile widened and Casey saw a flicker of hope in the girl's blue eyes.

  Casey pressed her lips together and groaned under her breath.

  In spite of Susanna's flustered state, she managed to finish the appropriate paperwork and hand them two room key cards.

  "Oh, and one last thing,” she said as Alex and Casey started to step away from the desk. “One of the features of the Heartbreak Hotel is our free in-house channel that runs Elvis movies continuously. And I'm working tomorrow night, too, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to call. Enjoy your stay."

  "Thank you. I'm sure we will,” Alex said. They headed for the elevators and Casey threw Alex a perturbed smile as they walked.

  At this late hour the elevator doors slid open within seconds of pushing the up button. Once inside, Alex hit the third floor button. Casey wasn't claustrophobic, but with Alex's imposing, hard-muscled body standing next to her, the space seemed minuscule, and suffocating, and hot. Damn hot.

  "Looks like you're going to get your chance to watch those Elvis movies after all,” she said, trying to refocus.

  "Hmm. I don't know. I kind of had something else in mind for the weekend.” He winked.

  Something else? The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and he stepped out into the hallway. Casey stood rooted to her spot, dreaming about something else.

  * * * *

  At eight o'clock sharp, Alex found himself outside Casey's door, not sure if he was ready for this day or not. For the umpteenth time he questioned his sanity for agreeing to this trip.

  He should've known he wouldn't be able to look at her as just an associate, no matter how hard he tried. Her soft, tantalizing vanilla scent teased him mercilessly, and her green eyes bewitched him. How was he supposed to think about Elvis, blueprints and room design with Casey around?

  Trouble. That's what this whole mess was. A big peck of trouble.

  She'd accused him of being difficult last night, exactly what he'd wanted—or at least what his rational side wanted. He'd purposefully pushed at her control buttons and flirted with the desk clerk, trying to squelch the growing attraction he'd read in her eyes.

  He'd gotten to her. Now, he'd see if her frustration with him had stuck.

  He knocked and Casey answered the door with a bright smile.

  "Good morning, Alex,” she said with more excitement than a person should be allowed to have on a Saturday morning after too little sleep.

  "Mornin’ to you, too. Don't you look chipper,” he said, irritated that apparently last night carried no long term effects for her. She'd pulled her hair back into a pony tail and was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans, a Nebraska Cornhuskers hoodie sweatshirt and tennis shoes, giving her a youthful, spirited look. He liked.

  "Thanks. I wanted to be comfortable, and since they don't let you carry in certain bags, I wanted plenty of pockets."

  Alex let his gaze slip down the length of her jeans. The denim fit her figure perfectly, and oh, so nice. He doubted there was room to stuff much of anything into those pockets, but what he wouldn't give to find out—with his hands. Yeah, he liked too damn much.

  So much for his resolve to stop fantasizing about her. How could he expect her to figure out he wasn't interested, when he couldn't stop acting like he was?

  He cleared his throat and shifted
his weight to his left foot. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, forcing his eyes to check out the pretty girls on the TV screen for a mere two seconds. The bad part of this whole deal was that nothing else captured his attention like Casey did.

  "All set. I have my camera, a notepad, cash, credit card and a tube of apple-raisin lipstick. It's a great color for fall.” She gave him a mischievous wink.

  Your lips look sweeter than an apple pie fresh from the oven, sweetheart. Alex's pulse hitched. What he wouldn't give for a taste. When it came to apple pie, a man shouldn't have to stop with one piece if he didn't want to. He shouldn't have to stop with one kiss from a woman like Casey, either. Once he had a taste of her, he knew he'd want it all, à la mode.

  All the more reason tasting was out of the question. So what if she was vibrant, exciting, and sexy to boot? She was off limits. There was no room for romance in his life. He had to make it through this weekend without throwing her down on the bed. And that was going to be harder than he'd anticipated.

  "Taking advantage of the Elvis channel I see,” Alex said as he nodded toward the TV, hoping to turn off his carnal thoughts. Elvis romanced a beautiful blonde in his arms as he sang. So much for blocking out the sexual suggestions bombarding his mind.

  "You bet,” she said. “I watched for a little while last night, then fell asleep. Elvis serenaded me in my sleep all night long. I think I'm in love,” she said dreamily and sighed.

  "You and how many other millions of women?"

  "Oh, well. I guess I'll have to find my own Elvis.” She gave him her own sultry smile and Alex's heart picked up its rhythm, rivaling the beat of the music on the TV.

  Okay. What was she up to? Either she was oblivious to his efforts last night, or she was wise to his methods and playing a little game of her own.

  "Are you hungry?” she asked.

  Hungry was an understatement. “Famished,” he managed to say around a lump in his throat.

  "Then let's eat.” She started to move past him on the way to the door, then stopped. Her soft, subtle scent wrapped around him, teasing and tormenting. “I'm starved, too,” she whispered into his ear. The warmth of her breath pulsed against his skin, igniting a desire he hadn't allowed himself to feel for a long time.

  She stepped away and strode down the hallway, leaving him behind. Alex narrowed his eyes as he watched her. The minx. She'd joined in the game all right and by the sudden tightness in his jeans, she was giving him one helluva run for his money.

  * * * *

  A quick breakfast later, Casey and Alex walked the short distance from the Heartbreak Hotel over to the Graceland complex. The sun shone bright and promised a beautiful fall Saturday in Memphis. Casey couldn't have asked for a more perfect way to experience a slice of Elvis’ life, and get to know the man who was doing a good job of revving up her libido.

  She knew she was playing with fire as far as Alex was concerned, but she couldn't seem to help herself. He was handsome, witty, and under that tough-guy exterior he wore, she suspected he had a sensitive, caring side.

  He was a good guy with enough bad-boy mixed in to make her want to flirt and have fun. During her teenage years she'd missed out on many of the thrills a boy's attention presented a girl. She'd been stuck at home looking after her younger brothers and sisters while their mother worked two jobs to assure their survival. Extra money and free time for teenage pursuits were luxuries she'd never had. And now, no matter how hard Alex tried, she wasn't going to miss out on this chance as a woman. So what if nothing came of their association. She wasn't in the mood for heartbreak anyway.

  Their VIP tickets confirmed and their earphones in hand for the mansion tour, they boarded a shuttle with a group of other eager Elvis fans. The shuttle ferried them across Elvis Presley Boulevard and Casey held her breath as they drove through the famous, custom-made gates of Graceland.

  Stepping off the shuttle, Casey and Alex walked up to the front of the house. Four columns towered tall at the entrance while two lion statues stood regally out front, still guarding Elvis’ beloved home after all these years. The kaleidoscope of yellow ochre, sienna and orange on the trees framed the mansion, creating a spectacular scene.

  "Wow. This is so cool. I can't believe we're actually here,” she said with awe.

  "Yeah. I can see why Elvis was so fond of this place,” Alex said.

  "I can't wait to see the inside."

  "Well, you don't have to wait any longer,” Alex said as a tour guide came out of the house and greeted them.

  After a few brief instructions and a reminder flash photography wasn't allowed, the guide led them inside. Crossing the threshold, they filed into the house where Elvis had escaped the demands of his super-stardom. Behind these walls was where he'd felt the safest and most relaxed.

  This is where Elvis, the man, had lived.

  A tingle of anticipation raced along Casey's nerves. Anxious to see it all, she looked around the foyer and spied the staircase. A mixture of awe and sadness encompassed her body down to her toes. Off limits to the public, the second floor was where the man responsible for the entire phenomenon, the legend and myth, had met a tragic end at far too young an age.

  A surprise hint of tears stung her eyes and she blinked, forcing them aside. Taking a deep breath, she soaked in the colors, the styles, and the very atmosphere of the house through her pores.

  Elvis spoke to her through the headphones with his deep, sexy southern drawl, and she turned and noticed the portrait of a younger Elvis hanging along the stairs. Her breath hitched as he spoke of his life at Graceland, and Casey couldn't help feeling that the image inside the gilded frame reflected a man haunted by the high price of fame.

  To her right, the front room beckoned with the specially designed stained glass peacocks adorning each side of the entrance into the music room. There a piano and a stack of well-used LPs waited to be played.

  Soft white provided the main color for the rooms, including the carpeting, low-slung furniture and the walls. Accented by mirrors and royal blue and gold drapes, the area radiated elegant Hollywood chic.

  "I wonder how many other famous people were entertained here,” she said to Alex.

  "Probably a few."

  She saw another portrait of Elvis hanging above a black and white photograph of his parents. Three people gone from this world, but still very much alive. Casey took a deep sigh. Never in her wildest imagination had she anticipated the bevy of emotions assaulting her now.

  Lifting her camera, she said a silent prayer her eight-hundred speed film would be enough to capture the interior without the benefit of a flash. The camera clicked away, capturing the home of a true American legend.

  Alex touched her arm and together they walked through the house, taking notes and snapping pictures, all in an effort to capture at least a fraction of the real Elvis.

  Seeing Elvis’ personal effects, walking in the very places he'd once walked, evoked a sadness that tugged at her heart for all that had once been. Yet, his spirit was very much alive within these walls. So much so that she wouldn't be surprised to see him come walking around a corner, or sitting casually in one of his chairs smoking the cigarillos he enjoyed.

  As they walked through the dining room, the audio talked about the dinner parties he hosted for his Memphis Mafia friends. And to Casey's surprise, the kitchen was very much like any other typical kitchen of the 1970's, complete with harvest gold appliances and an avocado-colored sink. The non-typical difference with Elvis’ kitchen was the video surveillance TVs on the counter, and a set of red phones installed for his personal use.

  Upon entering the jungle room, Casey smiled to herself, recognizing the green carpet as the same that had at one time covered her beloved grandmother's living room floor. An assortment of green plants and a large fountain dominated one wall. The odd assortment of furniture, some covered in striped fur, and a bamboo ceiling fan, added the final touches to the jungle feel.

  They toured the basement next and the TV
room where three TVs were lined up side by side, and learned Elvis liked to watch all three major networks of his era at one time.

  Casey giggled. “Boy, times have changed."

  "Yeah, he'd need hundreds of TVs now."

  "That would be enough to make you cross-eyed, wouldn't it?"

  "You bet."

  They moved on, saw where Elvis played pool with friends, and all too soon found themselves exiting the house, ending the house tour in the backyard.

  Alex gave her a warm smile. “So what do you think?” he asked after they removed their headphones.

  An overwhelming sadness surrounded Casey and she took a deep breath trying to shake off the feeling. Geesh. She hadn't expected this.