by Cathryn Fox
“Come on.” He captured her hand and led her to the duck pond, to where people were fishing, reading, or sleeping on blankets. Off in the distance they could hear shouts coming from basketball and tennis courts. “If we hurry we can watch the sunset.”
They ducked into one of the trails and walked for some time. “This place is huge,” she said. “I’m glad I wore my flats.”
He led her along the worn walkway until he found a private picnic area off the beaten path. In the distance, the sun had begun its descent over Vegas. “How about right here?”
She looked around, her eyes wide as she took in the view. “It’s a great spot.”
He laid the blanket out and dropped his backpack. He patted the ground and Andi sat next to him. She leaned back on her hands, and stared at the streaks of color in the sky.
“It’s so beautiful. I never thought you’d be able to see a sunset here with all the lights on the Strip.” Her stomach took that moment to grumble, and the horrified look that crossed her face was so adorable he had to kiss her. He leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. At first her mouth stiffened, but he continued to kiss her anyway, softly, gently, coaxing her to return it. He touched her face, a light brush of his thumb over her cheek, and she finally opened for him. Damn, she tasted good.
When he pulled back, she gave him a quizzical look. “What was that for?”
“You’re just so irresistible.” It was true, she was. “I couldn’t help myself.”
She arched a brow, her lips quirking. “Does that line always work?”
“You think I’m feeding you a line?”
“You were kind of known for those things.”
“So, we’re not pretending anymore?” he asked as she brought up the past.
“No, we are,” she said quickly. “I just forgot.”
Damn. He wanted to come clean and tell her who he was. “Okay, and just for the record, the only thing I’m trying to feed you is a sandwich and juice.” He pulled a wrapped sandwich and juice box from his bag and handed it to her.
A huge smile lit her face and her hair fell around her shoulders as she gave a slow shake of her head.
“What?” he asked. He peeled open the waxed paper. “You don’t like peanut butter? I thought everyone liked peanut butter. Wait. You’re not allergic, are you?”
“No, I’m not and I do like peanut butter. I just don’t normally eat…” She sat crossed legged, placed the sandwich on her lap and removed it from the wrapper. “I just hadn’t expected this. You’re full of surprises.”
He bit into his sandwich, chewed, then said, “I mean I’m no romance hero, but I do know how to make a mean sandwich and show a girl a good time.”
She laughed around a mouthful of bread. “You made these?”
He laughed with her. “No, the kitchen did it for me.”
She jabbed her straw into the juice box and took a drink. “Fruit punch. That was always your favorite back in the day.” She put her hand over her mouth. “Oops, no talking of the past.”
A bird flew overhead, and he nodded as he watched it until it disappeared. “How did you get in to writing?” He laid down on his side of the blanket and propped himself up on one elbow.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t even very good in English class, but I was always a dreamer, and I just had these stories in my head I needed to get down on paper.”
He could relate. Thanks to his dyslexia, he sucked in English class, but he loved paranormal and supernatural movies and books and thought why not try his hand at writing one? Of course, he couldn’t tell her that, she thought he was a pilot and she wanted a fantasy. He finished his sandwich, crinkled the paper into a ball, and tossed it into his bag.
“Plus, well, I read a lot,” she continued. “When other kids were out at parties, I was at the library pouring over books.”
He wanted to ask why she too wasn’t at the parties, but from what his brother said, he already knew. “I have a confession,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I read one of your books.”
She cringed. “You did? Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice going unnaturally high.
“Curiousity.” She looked away. “What, millions of people read your books every day and you’re embarrassed because I did?”
“You’re not my target market.”
“I am now.”
She turned back to him, and gave him a dubious expression. “You can’t be serious.”
“Yup, you turned me into a romance reader.”
She crinkled up her wrapper and threw it at him. “You’re just messing with me.”
He ducked and grabbed her hand. “No, I’m not. I’m now officially you’re number one fan.”
She cocked her head. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?”
Pulling her hand back, she reached for her juice box and took a drink.
“Does your family read your books?” he asked.
“Mom does.” She set her juice down and picked a piece of lint off her pants. She cringed and added, “I think I’d die if Dad did.”
“Because of the sex scenes.”
She gave a slow shake of her head and briefly closed her eyes. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been looking for an opening all night.” She laughed and shoved him until he fell onto his back. He stared up at the sky and said, “I could never write a romance novel.”
“Too many big words?” she teased, even though he’d already told her the real answer. He didn’t believe in happily ever after. Happy endings, however…
He laughed hard at her sassy comment and she bit her bottom lip innocently. Damn. Now he wanted to kiss her again. But first he wanted to know more about her. Which went completely against his sex only relationship rules. What was it about her that had him acting out of character?
“Can we talk about something else?” she asked.
“Okay. Do you get home often?” As soon as that question left his mouth, her smile fell and confused him. Asking her if she visited home wasn’t bringing up the past. “Was it something I said?”
“I visit at least once a year but that could be changing.”
“What do you mean?”
“My roommate Cammy is in the process of moving out with her fiancé, and I can’t afford the rent myself. New York is expensive, and I don’t want to bring a stranger into the place just to help with the cost. I might have to move. Rhonda said I could stay with her until I get a place of my own.”
“Rhonda?”
“Rhonda Berry.” She grinned at him, guessing he was playing the stranger, when in reality he had no idea who Rhonda was. “Rhonda was my best friend growing up.”
“I see,” he said. With the sun almost gone, he could barely make out her face in the dark. He shifted closer. “At least with your job you can live anywhere. And New York isn’t really the hub for agents anymore. Not when everything is done electronically.”
She arched a brow, no doubt wondering how he knew so much about the industry. “True,” she said, not calling him on it. “And to be honest I kind of miss the quiet of a small town.” She opened her mouth to say something else but then shut it again. Why did he get the feeling there was another reason she didn’t want to go home? Did it have something to do with him—or rather Nolan?
Hating that he’d said something to upset her, that his brother had hurt her so deeply, he jackknifed to a sitting position. “Want to go check out the Bellagio fountains?”
“Sure.”
He climbed to his feet and pulled her up with him. Their bodies collided, and his cock thickened. He slipped his hand around her back and held her close. In the dimly lit park he could see the outline of her features. His gaze moved over her face, taking note of her breathing, the way it changed, became a little deeper. She too was affected by their closeness, her needs and desires matching his.
Not wanting to move, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,
his heart pounding a little harder. “So…ah…about your win earlier.”
“What about it?” Her hands went to his shoulders, her touch going right through him.
“If you wanted to exercise your win, we could do it now, if you like.” He brushed more stray hair from her face and dipped his head. “I mean, it’s kind of romantic here, and after reading your book, I can’t help but think you would have inserted a little something right about now.”
“Ryan.”
“Yeah.”
Her breath was warm on his face when she said, “I think I’d like to exercise my win.”
She inched back and his stomach fell. Was she exercising her choice not to kiss him?”
But then she went up on her toes and poised her mouth open. She didn’t have to ask him twice. He dipped his head and closed his lips over hers. She melted into him and they exchanged kisses that were soft, easy, full of emotion and need. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and the soft noise in her throat urged him on. Blood left his brain and all coherent thought fled as he moved her backward, until she was centered on the blanket.
Desperate to reacquaint himself with her body, more desperate than he’d ever been in his life to be with a woman, he dropped to his knees and pulled her down, then nudged her until she was on her back and he was on top of her. This time, his kiss was firm, hard enough to bruise her lips, not only because he couldn’t seem to get enough of her, but because he wanted to leave his mark on her. She touched his face, her fingers burning over his flesh as she shaped the outline of his jaw.
Holy fuck, he was the luckiest guy in Vegas to be here with her, kissing her, feeling her body beneath his. No big monetary win at the tables could give him the high he was feeling right now. He dipped his head, making a slow pass with his tongue, tasting and savoring her mouth, branding her with his lips.
He brushed her hair from her face. “I love the way you kiss,” he murmured.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, a new intimacy between them as she relaxed beneath him.
His mouth went to her throat and he breathed in her scent. Something scurried by the site, some animal running through the underbrush. The sound brought his attention to the fact they were in a public place where anyone could walk by and catch them. He might have no trouble taking risks, but deep down she was a nice girl, a true innocent. Last night she’d been mortified when her peers had caught her leaving his room, and there was no way she could be comfortable with this scenario. He pulled back and looked at the beautiful woman beneath him.
The good girl might want to be bad, might want the fantasy, but she deserved better than this from him.
He went up on his hands. “We should probably head back.”
“You want to stop?” she asked, her voice a strained whisper.
“I don’t want to.” He lifted his head and looked around. “But we’re outdoors, and I want to take better care of you, Andi.”
Her eyes moved over his face, and his heart pinched at the warm, thoughtful way she looked at him.
He climbed to his feet and pulled her up with him. Her soft body meshed against his hardness. Jesus, she aroused so many things in him. Need stole the air from his lungs and he reached out to find her fingers trembling. He threaded his through hers, and held tight until they both stopped shaking.
He put his mouth close to her ear, and kissed her lightly. She reacted and as her body quivered all over, it set off another chain of events in his body. Dammit, he needed her. By God, she did things to him no other woman ever had. It was crazy, intense, insane, and overwhelming all at the same time, and he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted it to end after the week. What the hell was he saying? That he wanted more? But he didn’t believe in happily ever after, knew loyalties ultimately failed, and all relationships eventually crashed. Regardless, he couldn’t control his thoughts, or wonder how she felt about him.
Him, as in Ryan Grayson, not Nolan Wheeler. Guilt once again twisted his insides. Perhaps keeping his real identity a secret was a dumb-ass move. He felt a flash of unease. If he wanted more, he’d have to tell her the truth. But, he was worried what would happen if he broke out of their fantasy world—would she laugh it off or kick him to the curb?
Chapter Nine
Trying for casual, Andi walked through the bustling lobby with her head down. She hoped to avoid a run in with anyone she knew. Especially the ever-astute Jan. She wasn’t quite ready to share the details of the night with anyone. Wasn’t quite ready to examine the things Ryan made her feel when he kissed her, touched her with such gentle hands, showing he cared about her well-being. She hurried her steps, and beside her Ryan picked up his pace to stay close.
Christ, not only was his scent on her skin, she had hot make out session written all over her. Messy hair, ruffled clothes full of dust and grass, and legs that were barely holding her up, she looked like she just had sex outdoors with him. While she was ready to go through with it, to live a fantasy, he put a stop to it. God, he was so sweet and considerate with her. Her heart squeezed, the things she felt for him whispering through her blood.
Her body still burned where he’d touched and kissed, making it hard to think about anything else. Ryan walked beside her and she stole a glance at him. His hair was mussed, his clothes were wrinkled and dusty. It didn’t distract from his good looks at all. In fact, it made him that much sexier. A smile pulled at her mouth as she looked him over, and there was nothing she could do to squash the things she was feeling. Damn. Damn. Damn.
“What?” he asked, a slow, easy grin curling up his lip. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You took me to a dig site, to drive an excavator.” Things went down way differently than she’d ever expected, and there was nothing…nice, about their date. She’d predicted a stretch limo, followed by a drive down the Strip and a candlelit dinner. Never in a million years would she have guessed she’d be driving heavy machinery and dining on peanut butter sandwiches. She normally didn’t eat peanut butter because of the fat content. She might have lost a lot of weight but she still had curves that could blossom if she ate the wrong things. Nevertheless, she ate the sandwiches because she wasn’t going to ruin a night that was different, exciting…like him. “I can’t imagine what you do on a real date.”
His expression was full of mischief when he said, “Want to find out?”
“No,” she lied. Okay, so maybe she did want to go on a real date with him. He was fun, spontaneous, and really threw her for a loop. She’d seen a side of him she’d never seen before and she liked it. A little too much, considering this was a Vegas fantasy.
She placed her hand over her fluttering stomach. Butterflies erupting might be cliché and happened to be one of her editor’s pet peeves, but she had no other words to describe what she was feeling. She liked this grown up version of the bad boy she knew. Which meant she needed to be careful. She couldn’t fall for him again. In a few short months she’d likely have to move back to Cedar Point. Seeing him all the time and pining over him again while he dated other women was something she couldn’t, wouldn’t go through. And it wasn’t like they could carry on as lovers after the conference. Soon enough he’d see the real, unlovable her, and run away laughing again.
“Good, because I’m not really interested in dating you, either,” he said. She swallowed as his words reminded her of what this really was between them. “But I do have two tickets to the Criss Angel magic show tomorrow night.”
“Mindfreak?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I hear it’s a great.”
“I’ve wanted to see it, but it was sold out this week.” Honestly, if she wanted to see a magic act all she had to do was go somewhere private with Ryan. One grin and abracadabra, clothes gone. “How did you get them?”
“I have connections. So, do you want to go?”
She hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t be spending so much time with him. Being around him all the time was playing havoc with her head. “Connections, h
uh?” Of course he had connections. The man was a pilot and probably did favors for people worldwide. She just didn’t want to know what kind of favors.
“Yeah, it’s for the seven o’clock seating.”
She pursed her lips and looked at the floor as she walked. “I don’t know.” Geez, her mood swings were getting out of control. One minute she was all about having a brief affair, the next she was sure it was a crazy idea, one that could only lead to pain and more scars.
“You still owe me,” he said.
Her head jerked up and she caught the teasing look in his eyes. “For what?”
He squared his shoulders, a look of righteousness in his baby blues as he feigned offense. “For making me dance on a stage in front of hundreds of women.”
“Wasn’t tonight’s da…I mean…tonight’s dinner and drinks to make up for that?”
He pulled open the stairwell door and she slipped past him. “No, that was for making me wear tight pants. Now you have to make up for all that dancing I had to do.” She looked over her shoulder to see him cringing. He held his hand out, and shook his head. “I actually abused a prop gun, Andi. What did the gun ever do to deserve that?”
She burst out laughing, and slapped her hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe I missed that.” She stopped on the stairs and turned to face him. “Wait, you still have the pants, right. Maybe you can do an encore.”
He grabbed her waist, and pulled her to him, his mouth aligned with her breasts. “I’ll show you any move you want, but not that one.”
She lowered her head and when his lips moved toward hers, her body heated all over again. He wet his mouth but when a door somewhere in the stairwell banged open, she pulled back, severing the intimacy between them. Gripping the handrail, she went up another step to put a measure of distance between them.
“It’s getting late. I have to get ready for tomorrow’s literacy book signing.”
“Okay,” he said, and they started back up the stairs. They reached their floor and he saw her to her room. “Sleep well.” He leaned into her again, but voices came from down the hall, and he inched back, his lips never meeting hers.