The Tycoon Meets His Match

by Barbara Benedict

  “All necessary precautions. You expect me to fly by the seat of my pants?”

  If she wasn’t so angry, the thought of Paxton trying to “wing it” might make her laugh. “You wouldn’t know how to improvise. You inherited a kazillion dollars. You’ve never had to get by on your wits alone.”

  “Trust me, I’d do just fine.” He now had an edge of steel in his tone. “I didn’t get where I am by being afraid of adversity.”

  “Of course not. Anything goes wrong, your daddy’s money always bails you out.”

  “Money doesn’t make the difference, planning does. Case in point, your own life. I bet many of your troubles could have been prevented had you exercised a little foresight.”

  Exercised foresight? Did anyone really talk that way? He sounded so self-satisfied, Trae wanted to sock him, square in the jaw.

  But then she’d have to let go of the wheel, and besides, she wanted to be as calm and unruffled as he was. “I can see how planning can have its advantages,” she said slowly. “And okay, maybe I could use more discipline in my life. But you, Mr. Happy Face, need to lighten up.”

  “I laugh. When there’s anything the least bit humorous to laugh at.”

  Having seen little evidence of this, she ignored him. “You go ballistic at minor setbacks, like missing bags and traffic tickets. I can only imagine how you’d react if a real disaster struck. I bet you couldn’t last five minutes without a meltdown.”

  “And I bet that once again, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve proven capable of improvisation. I don’t need my father’s money to make a success of my life.”

  There he sat, so pleased to be left king of the universe. She wanted to prick that bubble of supreme self-confidence and make it blow up in his face. “Yeah, so how about putting your money where your mouth is?”

  He paused, visibly backtracking. “Excuse me?”

  “Back up your boast with a little cash. I bet you can’t last until we find Lucie without your resources.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Yeah, I can see why you’d hesitate. It’s a daunting prospect to be cut off from your safety net. No more Paxton money, no more family and business connections. All you’d have is you and your wits. No wonder you’re sitting there, quaking in your boots.”

  “For your information, they’re flip-flops. And I’m hardly quaking.”

  “Then, in that case, you won’t mind a little wager. Say we make it, I don’t know, a hundred dollars?”

  “A bit steep for a silly bet, isn’t it?”

  Of course it was, but she wanted to force him into backing down and conceding her point. “Pinching pennies now, Paxton?” she taunted. “Or are you chicken?” She turned to him, clucking.

  “You’re on,” he said through gritted teeth. “Only make it double or nothing.”

  It was Trae’s turn to pause. She’d been stretching her limits already; two hundred would just about break the bank.

  Then, too, she had her friend to consider. If their finances ran out before they found Lucie, Trae couldn’t risk her safety. She had to do everything in her power to win this bet quickly.

  Especially considering the way Rhys now smirked, which left her no choice. “Fine,” she told him, holding out her right hand. “Wanna shake on it?”

  Though he seemed far from pleased about it, he clasped hands anyway.

  Once again, his grasp was a solid one, startling her for a second time.

  “Okay, then,” she said, pulling her hand away, focusing once again on driving—and ignoring the goose bumps his touch gave her. Though she’d never admit it to Rhys, that was the trouble with being spontaneous. It sometimes led you places you should never go.

  She risked another quick glance at him, sitting so stiff and straight on his side of the car. Probably plotting and planning how to make sure that he’d win the bet.

  Poor boy, didn’t he see that here, at least, she had the advantage? Of course she could outlast him. She’d lived her entire life on a limited budget. Rhys, on the other hand, had already shown he was lost without his money.

  “So, just how much cash do you have on you?” she asked, rubbing it in.

  He made a great show out of emptying his pockets. “Counting the change that I managed not to lose in the pay phone, I’ve got a grand total of four cents.”

  It was all she could do not to smile in triumph. A man like Rhys Paxton would hate taking money from her. She’d play her hand for all it was worth.

  Although she wouldn’t be playing for long, she realized uneasily. Her own financial situation teetered on the brink of ruin. She had a mere two hundred fifty for gas, food and their rooms for the night.

  Looked like she’d have to hurry up and win that bet.

  Rhys fumed silently on his side of the car. Watching her shapely foot—her shapely lead foot—on the gas pedal, he scoffed at Trae’s accusations. Was she serious, calling him a spoiled brat, a stick-in-the-mud, an automaton with no heart and even less imagination? Couldn’t she understand that someone in his position rarely had the luxury of spontaneity, most aspects of his life being governed by responsibility and duty?Like his courtship with Lucie.

  He felt another spurt of anger at Trae for putting such doubts in his head. Then again, maybe Lucie deserved some resentment for putting this whole crazy chase in motion. He’d been going along fine, his life comfortable and perfectly predictable, and now, thanks to his runaway bride, here he was in a world spinning out of control.

  Trae seemed convinced that he was out of his element, unable to handle it. He had to show her that nothing could be further from the truth. Granted, he was unaccustomed to going without his money and resources, but he had maybe twenty-four more hours, at most, before they found Lucie and this ridiculous quest was over. He’d deserve Trae’s scorn if he couldn’t prove he could survive—no, prosper—without the advantages his wealth gave him.

  And just why was it suddenly so important to prove himself to his woman?

  It had nothing to do with Trae, he insisted to himself. She’d thrown down the gauntlet and what could he do? A Paxton never backed down from a challenge. Pride demanded he win the bet; it was as simple as that.

  Up ahead, the glittering neon of Las Vegas lit up the dark desert sky. Showtime, he thought wryly. Trae wanted creativity? Well, maybe he could get inventive with their hotel reservation. Convince the desk clerk to find some nasty, little cubicle for Trae to sleep in. Something close to the elevator or right over the casino.

  And she said he couldn’t improvise.

  Pleased with himself, he stole a glance at her. He found her concentrating fiercely on her driving, biting her lip again, seeming distracted, even worried. And just like that, aware that he’d caught her in a rare, openly vulnerable moment, his anger melted.

  And suddenly when he looked at Trae, he saw a fiercely loyal friend, a complex flesh-and-blood person, a woman he couldn’t help but admire.

  Dangerous thoughts. Sitting up straight, leaning against the passenger door, he put as much space as possible between them in the tiny, cramped vehicle. Far more comfortable, far safer for his future plans, if he continued to brand her the enemy.

  Note to self, he vowed silently, make sure to get her a room on the far opposite side of the building.

  Chapter Six

  “W hat do you mean, you can’t find my reservation?”

  Trae took in the mob behind them, lined up for their turn to register at the front desk. The place was a zoo. It had taken three swings around the parking garage to find a spot, and then they’d had to muscle their way up here to the lobby.Shifting her backpack to her other shoulder, she waited for Rhys to lose it. Better yet, maybe he’d use his connections to get them a room. Not even a full hour, and she’d already win their bet.

  “Fine,” he said instead, forcing a tight smile. “Then give me two rooms in the tower, as near to the ground floor as possible.”

  The desk clerk, a cute brunette straig
ht out of high school, stared at him blankly.

  Trae felt compelled to intervene. “I’m thinking they don’t have any rooms in the tower. In fact, looking at this crowd, they probably don’t have any rooms at all.”

  The desk clerk nodded solemnly.

  “Maybe you can call around for us?” Rhys persisted. “There must be something in one of the other hotels.”

  “I’ve tried, sir. The Fourth of July weekend is coming up and a lot of people are in your situation. Those hotels that still have rooms post a three-night minimum. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stay an extra two days?”

  Rhys turned to Trae, a question in his eyes. She didn’t even bother to do the arithmetic. Even with what was left of Lucie’s “loan,” there was no way they could stretch their remaining cash to cover three nights. “We could always sleep in the car,” she suggested, picturing him tucked in the fetal position in the rental.

  She watched the tic start above his eyebrow, and waited for the explosion.

  Again, he surprised her. “The thing is…” he paused, looking at the clerk’s name tag “…Lisa. It’s been a hell of a day. The airline lost my luggage, and then someone stole my wallet. I’ve had to drive all the way here from Los Angeles in borrowed clothes that don’t fit, and now I’m told that someone’s misplaced my reservation.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but…”

  “I’m not blaming you, Lisa.” He flashed her the most charming smile Trae had ever seen. “None of this is your fault. But I have a crucial business meeting in the morning, and I need to shop for clothes before I can attend it. It wouldn’t hurt to shower and shave, and I sure wouldn’t mind getting some sleep. Isn’t there something you can do for me?”

  Trae noticed how he kept speaking in the singular, as if she weren’t there. As if he thought his poor-little-me routine would spur more sympathy in Lisa if he were a single man traveling alone.

  Then again, maybe he was right. With a sympathetic sigh, Lisa again consulted her computer.

  “I really appreciate this,” Rhys continued as she typed.

  Nodding, Lisa pursed her lips, as if girding herself for action. “If you’ll excuse me a minute.” Opening the solid pine door behind her, she disappeared into the office.

  “Slick, Paxton,” Trae said grudgingly. “If it works.”

  “You were a big help. We can sleep in the car?”

  She grinned up at him. “Thought that would get you. Which proves I was helpful. Look how I spurred you on.”

  To her surprise, he laughed. It did something nice for his face, she thought. He should try it more often.

  “Let me guess,” he said, shaking his head. “That was your creativity at work.”

  “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

  “If you’ll notice, I was both practical and inventive. I happen to think the crucial business meeting was a nice touch.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Thank you. And by the way, I never once mentioned that I’m on a first-name basis with the manager of this hotel.”

  Apparently, he didn’t have to. Charging through the door with Lisa cowering at his heels, a man wearing a manager pin leaned over the desk to offer his hand. “Mr. Paxton,” he said smoothly. “So nice to have you back with us.”

  With a what-can-you-do shrug for Trae, Rhys leaned forward to clasp the man’s hand. “Chad, you’re looking good.”

  And didn’t Chad know it, preening as if he were the Don Juan of Nevada in his black Armani suit. His jet-black hair was designer styled, too, and he had one of those megawatt smiles you saw in Hollywood, teeth artistically capped and perfectly whitened. A smile, Trae suspected, he generally saved for the ladies.

  Watching the man show off his dental work while Rhys engaged him in small talk, Trae couldn’t help but compare the two. Chad might have a movie-star face, but if you asked her, Rhys was far more attractive.

  As she realized where her thoughts were straying, she reined them back in. Rhys was attractive, no denying that, but the acknowledgment shouldn’t cause a warm glow inside her. All other considerations aside, the man positively loathed her.

  “But enough about me,” Chad was saying in a conciliatory tone. “Lisa tells me we have a problem here. I can’t imagine how this happened.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve been wondering about that myself.”

  Rhys eyed him like a stern parent, while Chad stared at the computer screen, hoping it would provide a much needed answer.

  Or maybe he was hoping Rhys would give up and go away.

  If so, Chad couldn’t know him very well. Even in the short time they’d spent together, Trae recognized the tight jaw, the intensity in those steel-blue eyes. Outwardly, Rhys might seem cool and calm, but every last cell in his body was focused on getting what he wanted. And if she had to pick a winner between them, then sorry, Chad, you don’t stand a chance.

  As if recognizing this as well, Chad spoke in a subdued tone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Paxton, but someone else has your usual suite for the week.”

  “I don’t need a suite. Just find me a room. And one for Ms. Andrelini, too.”

  Chad looked up—perked right up—the instant he realized Rhys was with a woman. “I heard you were getting married.” Though he spoke to Rhys, he focused his attention on Trae. “Is this your fiancée?”

  Trae felt intensely awkward, but Rhys acted as if showing up at a hotel with another female was the most natural thing in the world. “Didn’t I introduce you? I’m sorry. Guess that just shows how beat I am. Chad Ryan, this is Trae Andrelini. Not my fiancée, by the way. She’s a…a business associate.”

  Chad’s smile turned smarmy, making Trae feel like she should be wearing a big, red A on her chest. She could see two choices here. She could make a stand, let Chad know what he could do with his insinuating glances, or she could play along and let him think whatever he wanted. The latter, she knew, had a better chance of getting them rooms for the night, not to mention making her two hundred dollars richer. Accustomed to special treatment, Rhys might not recognize the fact, but he was about to use one of his connections. Once Chad handed the room keys over to him, Trae would win their bet.

  “Nice to meet you, Chad,” she told him with her own megawatt smile. “I so-o-o appreciate your help. I can’t tell you how badly I need a place to sleep.”

  The way Chad looked at her, you’d think they were alone on a desert island. “For you, ma’am, I’ll definitely find something.”

  Next to her, Rhys smiled broadly. At first she thought he was pleased with her efforts, but then she realized he could be hoping to twist this into a personal victory, claiming she’d gotten the rooms—not him, using his connections.

  Chad began punching buttons. “I’m afraid we’re booked solid. All I have to offer is one room. A standard queen, out in the back building.”

  It took several beats before Trae, still preoccupied with who would really win the bet, realized the implications. The two of them, caged in a room together? The way they argued, they’d never survive the night.

  Turning to Rhys to express this opinion, she had a sudden, vivid mental picture of climbing into that single queen bed with him.

  “I don’t…” she started to say, but Rhys, speaking at the same time, cut her off. “Can we at least get a cot?”

  “Certainly.” Chad’s oily tone implied that he didn’t believe for a second that they’d actually use it. Looking from the unruffled Rhys to Trae’s heated face, Chad grinned broadly. “So you’ll be wanting the room, then?”

  Rhys turned to Trae. “What do you think?”

  In truth, she couldn’t think at all. Not with him staring at her like that and her mind spinning around the fact that she’d be alone with him all night. Absurd to get so rattled by it, especially after spending hours in a car in far closer proximity, but the prospect of falling asleep with this man not ten feet away made her insides turn to jelly.

  “Thanks, we’ll take it,” Rhys said at last, turning to Chad and
Lisa. “Just tell me where to sign.”

  “Lisa, why don’t you help Mr. Paxton get registered while I make sure the room is ready for check-in. It will only be a few minutes.”

  Watching him fill out the form, Trae noticed he knew the license number of the rental. Had a head for facts, that Rhys Paxton. In some ways, he might actually be handy to have around.

  Not that she wanted him around, she quickly amended.

  When he was done, he reached into his back pocket. “That’s right,” he said distractedly. “No wallet.”

  “It’s okay,” Lisa said brightly. “We can bill your office.”

  Yes! Trae thought with a spurt of excitement. Then there would be no doubt that she’d won the bet.

  “Uh, no, thanks. I’ll pay cash.”

  Lisa wore a puzzled expression, as if wondering where he’d get the money if his wallet was stolen. Answering her unspoken question, Rhys turned to Trae, impatiently holding out his hand.

  So much for her theory that he’d be too proud to take money from a woman. “How much?” she asked, not bothering to mask her irritation.

  “Two twenty-one.”

  It was all Trae could do to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head. Carefully counting out the bills, she wondered how on earth they were going to eat.

  Leading her off with a grim smile, Rhys took the backpack off Trae’s shoulders and carried it for her. Weaving through the maze of the casino, he found a door to the back of the property. Once outside, though, they became hopelessly lost. He knew his way around the tower, Rhys admitted after they’d gone in and out of the casino twice, but until tonight, he hadn’t even guessed that a back building existed.

  Asking directions, they discovered why they couldn’t find their room. The back building stood off by itself, hidden behind the pool area, fronting the alley. Normally, the hotel didn’t rent the room, they were told. The manager used it for nights he worked late.

  Icing on the cake, Trae thought. Stuck for the night in Chad’s cozy little love nest with Rhys Paxton. How was she ever going to get through this night?