Betting on the Wrong Brother (What Happens in Vegas)

by Cathryn Fox

  “I’m just going to get room service. It’s been a long day. Plus I don’t want to monopolize your time.” She put on her best serious face. “You have a job to do and there are a lot of women here eager to play with such quality, grade A beef.”

  “Grade A beef?” His gaze moved over her face, and he grinned. “Is that all I am to you? A slab of meat?”

  She laughed. God, did he have to be so charming? “Hey, I have nothing against meat.” She fished her keycard from her bag.

  “So, you’re not a vegetarian? You like beef?”

  “I love beef. In fact there’s nothing I like better than a big…” She met his glance and stopped speaking. Wait! What were they really talking about here? Beef, or beef? Oh God! Seeing him again after all these years was messing with her mind and taking everything out of context. She slid her card into the lock and when it turned green, she pushed the door open.

  “I guess I’ll see you around,” he said, his warm breath trickling down the back of her neck.

  “Thanks for carrying my luggage.” Before her stomach made any other noises, or she said anything that could be misconstrued, she ducked inside, closed the door, and leaned against it.

  She listened for his footsteps. Her ears met with silence and she resisted the urge to turn around and see if he was still standing there. If he was there, Lord only knows she might do something stupid, like invite him in and see if he lived up to the men in her books. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t just live up to them, but surpass them altogether. But he didn’t want her back in the day, which meant he couldn’t have her now—no matter how hot he looked in those fatigues.

  Her mind turned back to her revenge. What had she been thinking? Thrusting him into a room full of women was a gift, not payback. If she wanted to get him back, she’d have to come up with something else entirely, something a little more devious. She’d have to start thinking like him.

  She pushed off the door, and threw her suitcase on her bed. What would a guy like Ryan do if the situation were reversed? How would he get revenge? Three steps led her to her window and she pulled open her curtains to get a view of the Strip in the distance. That’s when it hit her. Ryan would do exactly what he did to her in the past. Get her to believe he liked her then when push came to shove, dump her sorry ass.

  She chewed on that for a moment, and smiled as she warmed to the idea. Tonight, when the parties died down, she’d sneak to his room in something slutty—he obviously expected that of her—then seduce his pants off. Literally. When she had him right where she wanted him, she’d tell him who she was and walk away with her head held high.

  It was the perfect plan.

  With a little extra spring in her step, Andi peeled off her blouse and skirt, dropping them onto the floor as she made her way to the bathroom. She turned the water on, adjusted the temperature and climbed into the tub enclosure. Her mind raced, going over the events of the day as she plotted how the rest of her night would play out. First she’d get cleaned, second she’d order in food, and third, she’d meet with some friends at the bar and wait for the parties to die down. Then she’d set her plan into motion. She ran over the details of her seduction, and as the hot water soothed her tired muscles, something niggled inside her brain.

  Was she seducing him because she’d never gotten over him?

  No. No. No.

  She wasn’t even going to go through with it, for God’s sake. She was going to make him think she liked him, like he did to her all those years ago, and then when he went for it, she’d push him away. Then she’d put the past behind her and finally have closure. Simple as that.

  Shoving the plan to the back of her mind for the time being, she grabbed the shampoo and washed her hair. She rinsed the soap and stayed under the stream longer than normal, just enjoying the relaxation after a long day. Soon enough she’d be playing ‘Andi’ for fans. No one really ever saw the real Andrea. No one liked that girl. Since she was an introvert, sending all her energy into the universe was exhausting for her. It was worth every second of it, though, because she wouldn’t change her career for anything and she truly appreciated and adored her readers.

  She heard a noise in the other room. Turning the water off, she slid open the curtain, and stuck her head out. Bang. Bang. Bang. Shoot, someone was at her door.

  “Hang on.”

  She grabbed a fluffy white towel and wrapped it around herself. Feet still damp, she tip toed on the tile so she wouldn’t slip, and hurried to the door. She looked through the peephole and frowned when she saw one of the hotel staff on the other side. Dressed in a black suit with gold nametag, Raoul, he stood there with a smile on his face.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Room service.”

  Room service. She frowned. Had to be a mistake. “I didn’t order anything.”

  “Compliments of the gentleman in room 521.”

  “Oh.” Andi released the lock and opened the door, an odd little flutter released in her chest as she pushed her hair off her face and glanced at Ryan’s room directly across the hall. Was he standing behind the peephole looking at her, once again catching her parading around half naked like she was an exhibitionist? She tightened her towel, shivers of awareness trickling along her flesh.

  “Where should I put it?” Raoul asked.

  “Oh, on the table will be fine.”

  He set the tray down and walked back to the door. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  “Thank you. Oh, wait.” Andi grabbed her wallet and pulled out a few dollars.

  He smiled and held his hand up. “It’s already been taking care of.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised.

  “If there is anything else you need, just call.” Head inclined, he slipped out the door. Andi stood there a minute longer, her heart beating far too fast as she eyed Ryan’s door. When he failed to make an appearance, she shut her door and set the lock.

  Her stomach grumbled as she crossed the room. How considerate of him to have food sent to her. She pulled out her chair and sat down, and when she lifted the silver dome from her plate and looked at the food he’d sent, all she could do was laugh. A great big T-bone steak with all the fixings. She grabbed a fry and tossed it into her mouth. Jeez, did he have to be so funny and adorable? He certainly didn’t seem like the same boy she knew from her youth. Then again, time matured most people. Most. The others went around giving fake names to hide their real identity, and collecting key cards from women. The surprise he displayed was probably just for show.

  But she wasn’t going to worry about that and let it keep her from a good meal. She grabbed her knife and fork and dug in. Mmm. Heavenly. As she ate, she opened her laptop and booted it up to check for messages. She skimmed them, then she checked Facebook for Ryan. Of course he didn’t have a page. That would just be another way for people to track him down. She read through her messages about the parties planned for the convention as she finished off her food.

  Once done, she pulled on a pair of jeans and T-shirt. If she was going to seduce the boy next door who was now the man across the hall, she’d need something sexy to wear. Plus, she also wanted to get out, stretch her legs, and chat with a few of her online friends who were at the convention.

  Andi made her way to the lobby and the second she spotted her online bestie, she ran over to her. “Jan,” she shrieked and the two hugged like they were long lost friends.

  “Come on, let’s get a drink at the karaoke bar.”

  Andi hesitated. Alcohol might not be the best thing for her tonight. Past experience had taught her it lowered her inhibitions and bad judgment followed. Then again, if she didn’t have a drink, her friend would call her out on it or think she was pregnant. Since she didn’t want that or to explain what was really going on—heck she might use it in a book someday—she decided to indulge. She hooked her arm through Jan’s and let her lead her to the karaoke bar.

  As people took turns on stage, many of who couldn’t carry a tune, they found a quiet t
able in the corner. Andi ran her hand over the smooth glass tabletop and shifted on the heavy wrought iron stool. She glanced around taking in the round room with glass ceiling, as well as the people in the casino looking through the glass walls at the singers on stage making fools of themselves. Some woman squealed into the microphone, the sound resembling a wounded animal.

  Jan looked at Andi and winced. “That song is ruined forever.”

  She nodded and was about to plug her ears when two stoner guys replaced her. “Thank God.”

  “You hungry?” Jan asked, when a lady carrying a tray of mini burgers that looked like they came from White Castle walked by. Harold and Kumar would have been impressed.

  She shook her head and in no time at all they lost themselves in conversation, sipping on rum and Coke and talking about the industry, friends, family, and guys they were sleeping with—or lack thereof. Soon a few more online friends joined them and the hours slipped by—as did the drinks. Andi yawned and Jan frowned.

  “You looked exhausted.”

  “Long flight. I think I’ll call it a night.”

  “Okay, we have all week. Get some sleep because tomorrow night we’re partying.” Jan hugged her and she slipped away, her head feeling a little lighter than she would have liked. Still, she was pretty sure she was sound enough to make good decisions.

  The lobby was a lot less crowded than earlier and for that she was grateful because she had one more stop to make before heading back upstairs, and she didn’t want anyone to see what she was buying. She slipped into one of the hotel’s signature gift shops and made her way to the back. The selection of sexy lingerie was astounding, and if she could afford it, she’d buy them all. Although wouldn’t that be a waste of good money? Who was she going to wear them for? Herself? She sifted through the undergarments, until she found a black lace two-piece number that she loved. Standing in front of the mirror she held it against herself. Sexy, seductive, perfect for what she had in mind. With any luck, it would be just the piece to take Ryan down.

  Then again with the way her luck was going…

  Chapter Four

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Ryan shifted on his bed, and saved the spot in the Andi Palmer romance novel he’d just downloaded. He powered down his iPad, set it on his nightstand, and shot a glance at the clock. Who the hell would be knocking on his door at midnight? Or more importantly, was the sound actually coming from his door and not from one of the closets or even the bathroom? As a horror writer, he traveled the world visiting haunted places for information and story ideas, and room 521 in the Masquerade Hotel and Casino just happened to be the last stop on his cross-country tour.

  His gaze panned over the dim room, taking in the desk, table, chairs, and TV stand. No ghosts to be found. Rumor had it that a jilted woman haunted his room. His research indicated that she’d found her husband in bed with his secretary. Reports went on to state that the wife shot them both and then turned the gun on herself, and now her spirit roams the room at night, bemoaning her loss. But so far he hadn’t seen any signs of a haunting, or heard any strange moaning sounds.

  The three knocks came again, and he pushed the covers off. Dressed only in his boxers, he padded across the carpeted floor. He caught a glimpse of the keycard that must have been stuffed in his pocket sometime earlier, likely during the male model contest. He had no idea who 626 was, and hoped she wasn’t coming to his room for another show.

  He peeked through the peephole to find Andi standing there. With her robe pulled tight around her waist, she chewed her bottom lip, and darted a glance up and down the hallway as she shifted from one foot to the other.

  What the hell?

  He quickly unlocked his door and pulled it open. “Andi,” he said. He cupped her elbow and dragged her inside. He looked her over, then focused on her face, taking in the rapid blinking of her lashes. Nervous energy practically vibrated off her.

  She stared at his half naked torso, then angled her head to meet his gaze. The heat in those bedroom eyes licked over his thighs, and a riot broke out in his shorts.

  “Hi,” she murmured, that one word coming out soft, sensual, despite her agitated state. She pushed her hair from her shoulder, and long loose curls fell down her back in waves. What he’d do to slide his fingers through it, to give it a little tug until it forced those kissable lips of hers open. He might not believe in happily ever after, but he believed in sex, lots and lots of sex.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Everything is fine.” This time she sounded winded, like she’d just jogged up the five flights of stairs. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s just…” He glanced past her shoulder, his mind racing. “You look…” He hesitated. What the hell was he supposed to say? Oh, you look like you want to drop your panties and let me take you six ways to Sunday. That statement would probably get him a knee to the nuts, because he had to be mistaken. There was nothing wrong with a girl coming on strong. Hell, he was used to it. But he just didn’t take her as the aggressive type, and it was the sweetness in her that she seemed to keep hidden that really drew him to her. “Never mind,” he said. He took a step back, “Come on in.”

  She slid around him and stepped farther into his room, running her hand over his desk, the posts on his bed, his rumpled sheets. What the hell was she up to?

  “Drink?” he asked.

  “Okay.” She looked at the iPad on his nightstand then back at him. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No, I was reading.” He thought it best to keep it to himself that he’d been reading her latest novel. She’d intrigued him at first sight, and he wanted to see what her writing style was like and what her books were all about. As far as he could tell, she wrote sweet romances, with very gentlemanly like men. He could live up to that…outside of the bedroom.

  “Good.” She leaned against the bedpost and he noticed the sexy red polish on her toes as he walked to the mini-fridge. Lord, help him. If this wasn’t a seduction, then she needed to leave. Now.

  He opened the door and searched through the mini-bar. “Wine or something harder?”

  “Something…harder.”

  Fuck.

  He grabbed two small bottles of rum, cracked them open and turned toward her, catching the heat in her eyes as her gaze lifted from his ass. “Andi?”

  “Yeah?” she asked, looking like she was a million miles away.

  “What are you doing?”

  She sucked in a breath, let it out slowly and walked up to him. Her hand went to his chest and she trailed her finger downward. The instant she touched his body, it initiated the launch sequence. His cock jumped as the air around them charged with sexual tension.

  “I wanted to thank you for sending dinner,” she said, her voice low, seductive. She licked her lips and his engines fired, just waiting for the all go from the driver’s seat. “It was delicious. There is nothing I like better than a big T-bone.”

  He coughed at her blatant innuendo. “I…uh…glad you liked it.” He grabbed two glasses and emptied the contents of the bottles in to them. He pressed one into her hand, as her other traveled down his chest, following the path of dark hair leading to his boxers—to his throbbing erection.

  Jesus, was this really happening? Not that he didn’t want it to, he did. Hell yeah, he did. But this whole sex kitten act seemed completely out of character for her. He hadn’t known her long, but he was pretty damn good at reading people, and this…this performance wasn’t exactly her. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate her bad girl efforts. He did. He was, after all, a red blooded male. But she just didn’t need to do this. Not for him. Christ, she’d had him wanting her at bloomers. Then again, maybe she was doing it for herself. Maybe the good girl just wanted to be bad.

  She put her drink on the counter and stepped back. A moment of hesitation, then she unhooked her belt and widened her white terry robe. Black lace.

  Sweet mother of God and all that was holy.

  Black
. Fucking. Lace. His favorite. He swallowed, and struggled to keep a few drops of blood in his brain as it jumped on the L train heading south. From their earlier encounter, he knew she had a great body, but…

  Wait, what was he saying?

  As he lost all train of thought, she walked over to the desk chair, giving a little extra shake to her sweet, curvy ass and picked up the fatigues he’d danced in earlier that night. He swallowed the contents in his glass and set it beside hers as her fingers slid over the fabric.

  “You were right, you know,” she said.

  “About what?”

  She smoothed the pants over her arm, and turned to him, sexual tension hanging heavily. “I did hurry back for the show, soldier boy.”

  His heart crashed against his chest, and he clenched and unclenched his fingers, needing to occupy them before he threw her on the bed, and went at her like a gunner who’d been fighting in the desert alone for far too long. “Yeah, why?”

  “Maybe I was hungry, for your moves.”

  She was playing with him. Teasing him. Drawing out the seduction. Fine then. If that’s the way she wanted things to play out, he’d let her. For now.

  “We don’t need the pants for that.” He clamped down on his teeth, his jaw seesawing from side to side and he worked to keep control. “In fact, if you want to see my moves, the pants would only end up getting in the way.” Heat crawled up her neck and settled in her cheeks as she released a little fluttery breath, once again letting him know beneath the act she was sweet and innocent. But, fuck she was sexy when she was rattled.

  Three steps and she closed the distance between them. His cock tented his boxers, and her gaze dropped to it. Whisky eyes widened in delight, as she took her sweet time to admire his erection. She looked a little lost in her own thoughts as her hand went to the lace on her panties. She toyed with it, curling the skimpy fabric around her finger, and nearly giving him a glimpse of what awaited his touch beneath. Okay. If she wanted to be bad, he’d give her bad.

  “You like what you see?” he asked. Her gaze jerked back to his and a moan caught in her throat. The pretty pink flush on her cheeks deepened. He might be giving her the upper hand, but that didn’t mean he was going to make it easier on her, or lay down and play possum while she laid it on thick and teased and tormented the living hell out of him. “Well, do you?” he probed.