The question, I suppose, was could I really leave whatever would happen in Vegas here when I left? If we had 24 hours of no-strings, no-consequences fun, could we go back to what we were when we got home? She could, I was sure. After all, I’d still be the man she found too uptight. But as I followed Adalyn out of the restaurant toward the exhibit hall, watching her very fine ass sway in front of me, I felt pretty certain that if I ever got to touch her once, I’d need to touch her again. And again. And that was where the danger lay.
A Good Time in Vegas
Adalyn — Tuesday
I was looking forward to seeing Will relax a little, assuming he could. I meant what I’d said about wanting to unravel the mystery of him. He was too young to be so wound up. There were times when he looked at me that I thought I saw a hint of mischief and fun wanting to come out. Why did he keep himself so closed off? I wondered as we walked through the exhibits. Had a woman broken his heart? Had building his company reprogrammed all the fun out of him? My inquiring mind wanted to know.
When we reached his company’s exhibit, the people there were surprised, but genuinely excited to see him. They showed him what they were sharing, and the leads they’d gotten from other companies and businessmen. He listened intently and praised their work. I began to think maybe I’d been too tough on him. Yes, he was a bit aloof, but he was attentive and friendly to his staff. I could see they appreciated the time he was giving them to share the work they were doing.
We also made our way to his brothers’ exhibits.
“This app was Sam’s idea,” he said as we played around with the home décor program.
“His wife?” I asked, remembering seeing her on a couple of episodes when he’d remodeled her home. There had been a Christmas special in which he proposed. It was really romantic. I glanced at Will, wondering if he had a romantic streak hidden somewhere deep inside him. I doubted it.
“Yes. All my brother’s wives have contributed significantly to their businesses.”
I remembered the fashion design software I’d seen from Mitch. “And yet, here you are, still single.”
“I do all right.”
I laughed. “That’s an understatement. How long does it take to count a billion dollars?”
He smirked. “I have an accountant that does that for me.”
“I suppose you could hire someone to take care of everything for you. Your cooking and cleaning. Do you hire people to have fun for you, too?”
He rolled his eyes. “I get it. You think I’m stuffy.”
“I think you’re missing out on life.” Feeling a little contrary, I said, “How about girlfriends? Do you hire out for that too?”
There was a flash of heat in his eyes, although I couldn’t be sure if it was annoyance or titillation about the topic. “I can manage that on my own, thank you very much.”
I cocked my head. “Does that mean you fly solo or that you can pick up women?”
He stared at me like I’d grown a horn. “Again, what’s the interest in my sex life?”
“Just curious if you have one.”
“Do you?”
No. Not at the moment anyway. “We’re not talking about me.” I turned away to avoid shivering under his intense gaze. “Maybe we’ll find some sort of tech gadget to help you.”
“The sex toy conference was last week,” he quipped.
“Really?” Was there a sex toy conference?
He rolled his eyes. “Who knew you were such a pervert. Or are you sexually frustrated?”
I sent him a coy smile over my shoulder thinking that was the safest response. We checked out many of the exhibits and a presentation that I nearly fell asleep in. After lunch, I got ready for my presentation.
“You don’t have to come to see my talk,” I said as he escorted me to the room that I was speaking in. “I’m sure there’s more interesting things you’d like to do.”
He smirked. “Worried I’ll see you flub up?”
Yes. “You’re in Vegas. There are more fun things to do that sit in on a talk about encryption.”
He shook his head and gave me a mischievous smile. “I want to watch you.” All of a sudden, I wondered if maybe pushing him to have more fun was a bad idea.
“Suit yourself,” I said, hoping I sounded like I didn’t care what choice he made.
He sat at the back of the room looking sinfully handsome in his dark suit. A pretty woman came to sit next to him. She smiled, said something to him, and they shook hands. I had the strangest urge to scratch her eyes out. Where was Robert when I needed to pretend that I was married to Will?
Just then, he walked in. He gave me a wave, then his eyes scanned the room, stopping at Will. He took a seat on the other side of him. Will looked up at me, and I worked to hide a smile at Will’s annoyance that Robert was yammering on next to him.
I launched into my talk, hoping I was making encryption more interesting than some of the previous talks. There were a few laughs where appropriate and lots of note taking. I saw that as a good sign. When I finished, several attendees came up to me to ask questions. I glanced up to see Will waiting at the back, checking his phone. That irked me. He was supposed to be having fun, not working. Then again, maybe it was a ploy to excuse himself from Robert. And thankfully the woman had left.
“Great job, Adalyn,” he said when I finished with the questions and packed up my talk.
“They didn’t fall asleep, anyway,” I said.
“You enthralled them.”
I smirked at him. “You were probably just glad to have Robert shut up.”
He laughed. “There was that benefit.”
“And what about the woman next to you? Did you like talking to her?”
He glanced at me. “She was interesting.”
Now I really did want to scratch her eyes out. “Maybe you can hunt her down and ask her out.”
He shrugged. “I would, but I’ve already agreed to spend the day with you. You’ve promised me fun. When does that start?”
I wanted to smack him. “I’m going to put my things back in the room. Maybe we can check out the literature there to see what we can do next.”
He nodded and set his hand on my lower back as he escorted me toward the elevators. I was secretly satisfied to see the woman who’d sat next to Will watch us together. That’s right, he’s mine, I thought and then shook my head at my own immature silliness.
Once in the suite I put my things away and freshened up in the bathroom.
“How about the mob museum?” Will called from the living area.
“Sounds fun.”
“And there’s a botanical garden. Do you like things like that?”
“Sure.” I was a pretty easy date, especially in a new city.
I reapplied my make up and could hear Will talking to someone. I guess he was on the phone, which meant he was either working or maybe making some sort of reservation. Did we need a reservation for the mob museum or botanical gardens? Then I figured he was probably ordering a car.
“Should I change?” I asked when I stepped out of the bathroom.
His gaze scanned my body and I felt it like a caress. How could a man who was so aloof be so sensual at the same time?
“You look fine.”
We went down to the lobby and sure enough, a car was waiting to take us to the mob museum. Will bought us the full experience tickets and we made our way through the exhibits.
“Prohibition was a bad idea, I think,” I said as we learned about the thirteen years the U.S. outlawed alcohol, and the gangsters that sold it anyway. “We had one in Canada but it didn’t last as long. We’re more reasonable about such things.”
He scoffed. “It’s cold in Canada.”
“So?”
“So, booze keeps you warm and entertained when you can’t go out because it’s cold.”
I shook my head at him, but wondered if maybe he was right. We made our way through the museum to the firearm training simulator. “Oh, I want to do this
.”
He shook his head. “I can’t imagine it will be anything like the real thing.”
I cocked my head. “How would you know?”
“I got my start in the F.B.I.”
I’d forgotten that. I studied him, and realized somehow knowing he’d been a G-man made him sexier. Like an American James Bond.
“Yeah well this is as close as I’ll get,” I said.
The experience was a blast involving role-playing and digital scenarios. I learned that I wasn’t cut out to be in law enforcement. I also discovered all that intensity and laser focus made Will perfect for it. It was a turn-on to watch him, his eyes narrowed and piercing as he hit his mark every time.
“Do you mind skipping the garden?” he asked as we left the museum. We’d spent more time there than I’d have anticipated, but it was still afternoon when we exited. Surely it wasn’t too late to see the garden. Then again, maybe he wasn’t into desert gardens. What grew in the desert anyway, besides cactus?
“Sure. What do you want to do?”
He ushered me into the car and gave the driver an address. “How do you feel about heights?” he asked me.
“It depends on how I get up there. I’m not a fan of rock climbing.”
He laughed. “How about floating?”
I was intrigued. We didn’t drive too far as we pulled into a parking lot where there was a large hot air balloon.
I looked at Will, trying not to gape. “Are we riding in that?”
“Yep. Unless you don’t want to.”
I couldn’t stop looking at him. Had I been underestimating him? This was an awesome idea. If we were a couple it would have been hella romantic and I’d have rewarded him with a kiss. We weren’t a couple, and it was still hard not to kiss him. “I do want to.”
“We’re lucky that it’s November. They don’t do evening rides most times of the year,” he said as we got out of the car.
I was feeling a little giddy by the time we were in the basket and it finally lifted off the ground. It was just us two, and I wondered if perhaps he’d used his money to get us a private ride.
“This is so awesome!”
He looked at me and smiled. I reached his eyes and it was the first time I’d ever seen him look so genuinely happy.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
We rose above the red desert and the oasis of the city, drifting toward Bedrock Canyon. The sun sparkled over everything, taking my breath away at the beauty of nature in this dry, seemingly desolate place.
We rode for quite some time, but it didn’t feel long at all when we finally set down in the middle of nowhere. A truck was waiting for us as we landed.
“We’ve got orange juice or mimosas for you to enjoy,” the balloon operator said.
“Oh, mimosa. Sounds perfect,” I said. The only thing more perfect than orange juice and champagne was plain champagne.
We got our drinks and Will held his glass up. “To fun in Vegas,” he said clicking his glass with mine.
“Fun in Vegas.” I sipped watching him over the rim. “I have to admit, Will, I underestimated your fun factor.”
His expression looked shocked. “You wound me,” he said pressing his free hand over his heart.
“Let me make it up to you.” I leaned toward him, rose on my tippy toes because he was so tall, and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. It was meant to be fun and flirty. I didn’t expect the fireball of sensation that blasted through me as he turned his head slightly and our lips met. I jerked back in surprise. What the kiss lacked in length, it made up for in punch.
His brows knitted together as he looked at me, giving me the impression that he was surprised by it too.
“We’re ready to head back,” the balloon guy said, motioning us to the truck that would drive us back to town.
By the time we arrived back at balloon central and were in our car driving toward our hotel, the awkwardness of that kiss had worn off. Or maybe it was the second mimosa we’d had.
“Hungry?” Will asked as the car pulled up to the hotel.
“Yes.” It was now evening, and I was ready for dinner.
“How about we go to the Venetian. There’s a good French restaurant there.”
I frowned. “Venice is in Italy.”
He laughed. “True, but there’s a great French restaurant too.”
“French in Venice it is.”
He wasn’t kidding about the great French restaurant. It was a bistro type setting, but it was a Chef Thomas Keller restaurant. Unable to resist, I order a side of pomme frites French fries with truffles. It was only eighteen dollars.
“You know, us Canadians know French,” I said as I finished my first glass of wine. After two mimosas, and now a fantastic red wine, I was feeling quite warm.
“Is it the same?” he asked.
I shrugged. “About as much the same as English in America and England, I suppose. Still.”
“Poutine isn’t really French,” he said pouring us each a second glass of wine.
“Ah, a true invention of Quebec. Ca c'est une véritable invention du Québec.”
His eyes stared at me. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”
I laughed. “I’m from Quebec.”
“I’ve never heard you speak it before.” Something in his voice had me wanting to keep speaking French. Like hearing the language of love turned him on.
“A few more drinks and that might be all I speak,” I laughed, hoping it didn’t sound like a girlish giggle.
“Well then.” He lifted his hand and called over the waiter to order another bottle of wine.
After dinner, we indulged in a uniquely Venetian activity by taking a gondola ride. “Someday I’d like to do the real thing,” I said.
“Have you been to Venice?”
I nodded. “I’ve been a lot of places, but never really enjoyed them. I’d like to take a gondola ride in Venice, walk to the top of the Eiffel tower.” I looked up at him sitting next to me. We were sitting close to each other, and I wanted to reach out and take his hand. “Have you done those things?”
He laughed. “I think it won’t surprise you to hear that I haven’t.”
“Have you been to France and Italy?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I turned my body to look at him. “Why not? You have more money than God. What are you spending it on?”
“Today I spent it on a suite, a balloon ride, and expensive French fries.”
The memory of the balloon ride flooded back, swimming in sweetness along with all the wine in my system. “That was lovely.” I sat back in the gondola seat. “We should go to Europe.”
I heard him laugh softly. “I’ll add it to the list of things to ‘make Will less boring.’”
I was going to reply to that by saying I didn’t think he was boring, but I was temporarily silenced by his kissing the top of my head. What was that about?
I was disappointed when the ride came to an end and we left the Venetian, but within minutes in the car, I was mesmerized by the water show at the Bellagio. The water seemed to be dancing to the music. I found myself moving with the beat as well.
“I want to dance,” I said.
“You are dancing,” he said, his eyes showing humor as they watched me sway to the music.
“Take me dancing, Will.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Is there a Sinatra place?” I asked.
He quirked a brow. “Will you ever stop poking fun at my fuddy duddy self?”
“I like Sinatra and standards. Michael Bublé is Canadian. Did you know that?”
“I think I heard that.” He took my hand and for the first few steps, I was awestruck by that. He helped me into the car and off we went, until a few minutes later we were getting out.
“How about a speakeasy? It had Sinatra music, though I’m not sure about the dancing,” he said as he led me to the entrance of the club.
“Let’s find out.” We went in to
the bar, which was decorated with a blend of roaring 20s prohibition and 1950s rat pack.
I dragged him to the bar and sat. “Let’s order something exotic.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Sex on the beach.”
One dark brow quirked up. “You may have already had too much exotic drinking.”
“And you haven’t had enough.”
The waiter showed up and I ordered us each a drink. When the bartender delivered them, I held my glass up. “To a good time in Vegas.”
“You certainly are.”
She’s Under My Skin
Will — Tuesday
I clicked my glass against Adalyn’s and then sipped the vodka and peach Schnapps-infused orange juice.
“Oh, that’s good.” Adalyn’s eyes shone, adding more reinforcement to my attempts to make her happy.
I’d enjoyed a day at the conference just fine. Adalyn’s running commentary on each exhibit added an extra layer of interest. I was captivated by her talk on encryption, even though I didn’t understand much of it.
“That’s some wife you’ve got there,” Robert whispered next to me during her talk. She had a unique ability to take something as dry and confusing as computer coding and make it interesting. I wasn’t the only man in the room enthralled by her. I suspected she could read the phone book and every man, including myself, would be captivated.
“Yes,” I agreed. She was something.
But it wasn’t until the mob museum that I really began to appreciate Adalyn’s zest for life. She had an exuberant curiosity about everything that was contagious. She laughed through the firearm training despite the fact that she was terrible at it. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want to impress her with my skill. I’d been out of the F.B.I for years, but some skills never left, especially since I’d spend a few hours a month at the firing range.
Accidentally My Hero Page 5