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CaddyGirls

Page 4

by V. K. Sykes


  “Me, too.” He slid his arm firmly around her waist and guided her in the direction of the clubhouse. “But I’m looking forward to this evening even more.”

  Anxiety and excitement bolted along her nerves when he didn’t release her, keeping his muscular arm wrapped securely around her waist. The day couldn’t have been more successful in terms of impressing Julian with her golf knowledge and her determination. But it clearly wasn’t just her skills that had impressed him. He gave every indication of wanting to get her off the course and into the sack.

  Her anxiety spiked again. She knew instinctively that sex with Julian Grant would be hot, heavy and mind blowing, and she’d love nothing better than to surrender to his seductive masculinity.

  But not if it meant jeopardizing her dream.

  Chapter 3

  Torrey cast anxious glances out the front window of her apartment. She didn’t know whether to look forward to this evening or dread it.

  Exactly on schedule, the limo pulled up at the curb, and the driver got out to ring for her. The Hummer seemed to cover half her block, looking more like the Queen Mary on wheels than a car. She’d often seen those monsters rumbling down the Strip, disgorging celebrities or wealthy businessmen at Wynn’s or other high-end hotels. Really, they were ridiculous and now, sliding into one as the tuxedoed driver held open the door, she had to shake her head. The beast was bigger than some of the apartments she’d lived in. Champagne on ice awaited her, complete with a rack of crystal flutes. A shelf of CDs and DVDs dropped from the roof, and a massive flat screen TV hung farther forward.

  Her tense muscles began to relax. Julian had obviously gone all out. It was sweet to be pampered, even if it was just for one evening. She smiled and reached for the champagne.

  Fifteen minutes later, the limo pulled up in front of a high rise in the west end and Krista emerged from the lobby looking even more fabulous than usual. As the tall blonde slid in beside her, Torrey couldn’t miss the question in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Hi, girl.” Krista gave her one of her perky smiles. Then she ran her eyes again over Torrey’s dress. “You’re looking, uh…sedate tonight.”

  Torrey felt a little defensive about her black linen shift and matching pumps, but she had no intention of showing that to the other girls. “I don’t have a lot of evening wear. In fact, I don’t have any. It’s not my thing.”

  Beautiful, willowy Krista would scorch Circo in the gold, bias-cut dress that lovingly clung to her killer body. Every guy in the restaurant would be ogling her. And no doubt Josh would have a hard-on all night. Torrey could never compete in that area with the Kristas of the world, and she had no intention of trying. Her plans and her future were never going to depend on whether she was the hottest woman in the room at a party.

  After quick stops to pick up Julieta and Annie, who both looked nearly as stunning as Krista, the Hummer dropped the quartet off at the Bellagio. They strolled through the glass doors, held open by two grinning bellmen whose eyes practically x-rayed their bodies. Passing into the high-ceilinged lobby, they threaded their way through the cavernous casino until they reached Circo.

  Torrey spotted their hosts at a table set for eight at the back of the room. All four men rose, and Julian strode quickly to meet the caddies. She clenched her fists at her sides to stop the tiny trembles in her hands.

  “Ladies, you are without a doubt the most stunning foursome in Vegas this evening.” He scanned the girls’ outfits. Torrey saw his eyebrows go up just a notch when he took in her simple, somber dress. “Did you enjoy the ride?”

  Torrey responded quickly, hoping to dissipate her anxiety. “What’s not to enjoy? That thing has everything but a driving range.”

  Julian’s deep, resonating laugh soothed her jumpy nerves. The men looked ready for a relaxed, fun evening. The intensity of the golf, particularly the last few holes of murderous competition, appeared to have evaporated.

  As Julian pushed in her chair, Torrey realized he must have chosen the table for its unobstructed view of the Fountains of Bellagio. He took the seat directly across from her—his back to the window and its spectacular view of the aquatic show. Though the sun had not yet set, she knew in an hour it would be pitch dark, and the fountains would be mesmerizing.

  And they were. Every fifteen minutes, jets spurted skyward as multi-colored lights enhanced the water’s sinuous dance to stirring classical music. Still, she spent little time watching the spectacular show going on outside the window. Almost as soon as Julian had taken his seat, he’d ignored the rest of the group and focused his attention on her. All it had taken was one question on her part, and he’d launched into a full exposition of OverTheEdge Games’ history and future. She didn’t mind—she admired his passion for what he had created and what he did. That was exactly the way she felt about golf.

  Besides, he looked sexy as hell—big, powerful and confident—as he described the wild success of his company’s latest blockbuster game.

  Later, as they finished their amazing and no doubt astronomically pricey dinners, Julian finally turned the conversation toward her life.

  “I should apologize, Torrey. All I’ve been doing is talking about myself.”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s fascinating. That’s why I peppered you with all those questions.” She’d shut out everything else but him, falling deeper and deeper under the spell of his dark eyes and seductive voice. “You didn’t monopolize the conversation at all.”

  “Good. Look, I’ve been wondering about the way you described yourself on the web site.”

  She gave him a wry grin. Guys always seemed fascinated by the fact that she dealt blackjack in a casino.

  “So, let me get this straight.” He smiled, leaning back in his seat. “You deal blackjack, you caddy for guys like me, and you’re working to become a pro golfer? Are you some genetic mutation that doesn’t require sleep?”

  Torrey forced herself to laugh, though Julian had actually nailed her desperate situation. Sometimes she felt barely human. “No, I do need sleep, and I sure don’t get enough. But I can’t complain. Lots of people have to work day jobs to keep their dreams alive, maybe even two of them. I’ve wanted to play golf for a living since I was a little kid. Who wouldn’t want to get paid to play a game they love more than anything else? All the rest is just about paying the bills.”

  She’d fretted all day about how she could engage Julian in a conversation about her ambitions without having to talk about her past and had yet to figure it out. Her mind still shied away from those bleak years following her father’s death.

  “It’s been fun working with CaddyGirls,” she plowed on, determined to keep the discussion fixed on the present. “We get to meet some interesting characters.”

  “Like present company?” Julian cocked an eyebrow.

  “Well, you four are unique—no doubt about that.” She laughed, the tension in her chest beginning to ease. “But I’ve had rounds with some amazing people—big corporate executives, a famous surgeon, even a major league baseball player.”

  “Which player, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Torrey smiled as she gave him the name of a player known more for his womanizing reputation than his on-field skills.

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Now that must have been an interesting afternoon,” he said. “But what about your plans for your golf career? Have you been playing any tournaments?”

  “Yes, but I’ve only managed five in the last year. And that’s ridiculous. All five were small amateur tournaments, so the competition was limited.”

  Those tournaments hadn’t provided a full-out challenge, but her performances had been good enough to wipe away her doubts about whether she still had the game she’d need to have a future in golf.

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Not enough time? Not enough money? Both?”

  “Both,” she said, not elaborating. Her instincts told her she shouldn’t push for sponsorship tonight.

  For a corp
orate big-shot, Julian was a great listener. When she spoke, his attention didn’t wander away. He wasn’t like so many men she’d been with, whose focus lapsed every time she tried to swing the conversation toward her own life. Men whose eyes constantly dropped to her breasts, their expressions making it clear they wished the dinner could be over so they could take her somewhere and try to get her naked.

  The conversation only edged into an uncomfortable zone when Julian asked questions that skirted around her past. Each time it happened, she managed to avoid direct answers. He didn’t press, though a couple of times Torrey noticed puzzled curiosity in his expression.

  Even though her focus was locked on Julian, she couldn’t help noticing the interplay of the other three couples at the table. Michael and Julieta had been laughing hysterically at each other’s stories and jokes all evening, while Annie kept up a rapid-fire, one-sided conversation with Brendan, who looked overwhelmed but fascinated by her boisterous personality. And Krista acted so entranced with bad boy Josh that she might as well have jumped into his lap. He kept reaching over to stroke her arm, her hand, her fingers—anything he could reach.

  Torrey shook her head. Those two really need to get a room.

  When the waiter came for the dessert and coffee orders, Josh declined, saying that he and Krista had decided to get some fresh air. He grinned wickedly at the other men as he suggested the group meet later that night at the Jet nightclub at the Mirage.

  While Julian all but ignored Josh’s announcement, Torrey noticed Brendan’s brows snap together in a frown as Josh and Krista rose to leave. Michael merely looked amused.

  “Julieta, dear,” he said with an extravagant wave, “would you also like to get some ‘fresh air’?” He grinned sardonically as he made the quotation mark sign with his fingers.

  “Love to, darling,” Julieta said, matching his sarcastic tone.

  Michael kissed her hand, and they got up to leave.

  Torrey frowned. There was some serious weirdness going on, but she hadn’t been able to put her finger on it yet.

  “What was up with that? There’s something going on that I don’t get,” she said to Julian as the waiter handed them dessert menus.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he replied quickly. “Nobody can figure out why Josh does what he does. I just chalk it up to the quirks of his genius. As for Michael, he’s a fun guy who sometimes likes to cause mischief.”

  Torrey smiled. “I like Michael a lot. Brendan, too.”

  “And where does that leave my buddy Josh?” Julian’s grin invited her to say what was on her mind.

  “I think you nailed it when you talked about stunted maturity.”

  “Yeah, he’s a thirty-year-old kid. That’s probably why he can design such killer video games. But he’s got a good heart underneath that layer of insecurity.”

  Torrey had her doubts, but she decided to let the subject of Josh’s strange behavior drop.

  She took a pass on dessert, regretting the decision a few minutes later as she watched Julian tuck into a decadent-looking hazelnut torte. Topped with a layer of warm Belgian chocolate, the slice almost filled his small plate. When he held a forkful in the air, his eyes inviting her to open her mouth, her willpower evaporated. One bite wouldn’t kill her, she rationalized, though it would certainly go straight to her butt without stopping at Go.

  As she opened her lips and took the velvety morsel on her outstretched tongue, the flare of heat in Julian’s gaze set her nerves jumping again. Why was he able to get to her so easily?

  As she savored the rich confection, Julian took his index finger and gently wiped away the tiny trickle of chocolate she could feel escaping from the corner of her mouth. Though she almost jerked her head back in surprise, his gesture was so smooth she couldn’t help but quickly relax. His confident touch sent an electric tingle dancing over her skin. When he withdrew his hand and flicked his tongue over the dab of chocolate on the tip of his finger, she bit back a gasp, suddenly imagining the sensation of his tongue rasping across her nipples and sweeping down the length of her body.

  She gave herself a hard mental shake. Julian’s unspoken message had sent the alarm bells—until now still faint in their ringing—into full-out klaxon mode. He clearly wanted her badly, and soon.

  * * *

  Julian couldn’t take his eyes off Torrey as her delicate pink tongue curled around the forkful of rich torte. In fact, he’d barely been able to wrench his gaze from her all evening. From the moment she strolled into the restaurant, looking elegant in that little black dress, his eyes had been glued to every damn inch of her. The dress was almost severe when compared to the skimpy, glittering outfits the other girls wore, but the way it hugged Torrey’s full breasts and tight ass made him want to throw her over his shoulder in a firefighter’s carry and head directly to his suite.

  But if anything, the appeal of her body might be eclipsed by the beauty of her face—the big, sweet eyes, the assertive little nose and chin, the lush, cherry-red mouth begging to be kissed. When he’d noticed the trickle of warm chocolate ooze from the corner of her lips, it had been all instinct for him to brush it away with his finger. The gesture had earned a scathing glare from Brendan.

  It hadn’t taken long for his thoughts to get as down and dirty as they come, Julian thought ruefully. As he tracked Torrey’s silky tongue sliding across her soft lips, he couldn’t help wondering how that tongue and those lips would feel tantalizing the most sensitive parts of his body. Torrey Green was as hot as the steamy Vegas night, and his lust meter had hit the red zone hours ago.

  At the same time, he found himself irresistibly drawn to her tenacious spirit. She had brains, guts and ambition, though he could sense she was fighting some personal demons she didn’t want to talk about.

  He had no hope of beating Josh in the bet, and no interest in it anyway. But he couldn’t deny how ironic it was that a stupid wager had brought the most fascinating woman he’d met in years into his life.

  * * *

  “Let’s head over to the Mirage,” Brendan said a half hour later as he signed the dinner bill.

  “You two go ahead,” Julian replied. “Torrey and I would like to finish our conversation. We’ll probably hook up with you later.”

  Brendan looked as if he’d swallowed rat poison. The poor guy obviously thought Julian was about to put a major move on Torrey.

  “Whatever,” Brendan groused, clearly annoyed. Annie gave them a playful smile and a wave as they headed out of the restaurant, leaving Julian alone with Torrey.

  “I hope your heart wasn’t set on a night at Jet,” he said carefully, searching her eyes for a reaction to his pre-emptive move.

  She flashed him a dazzling smile that held more than a hint of relief. “Does this look like a nightclub dress?”

  “Not really, but it looks fantastic on you.”

  “Thank you. But I’d be mortified to show up at the hottest nightclub in Vegas wearing a dress I bought for a funeral.”

  Julian masked his surprise. “No one would ever know that, Torrey.”

  “I’d know it. It was hard enough just to put it on tonight, but it was all I have,” she said in a soft voice. “The only other time I wore it was when my dad died.”

  She didn’t volunteer anything else, and the lost-little-girl look in her eyes kept him from prying.

  “I’m betting you spend your money on outdoor clothes. You’re obviously an athlete.” He hoped changing the subject would ease her sadness. Her answering smile told him he’d hit the mark.

  “You’d win that bet. Whatever I can afford to spend goes on golf wear and running gear. And biking stuff too.”

  No wonder her body was so beautifully toned.

  He smiled back. “I enjoy mountain biking myself. We’ve got some great trails in the Santa Cruz Mountains where I live. I try to log a few hours on the weekends whenever I can.”

  “Nothing like biking to keep your body in shape, is there?” The sparkle was definitely returni
ng to her eyes.

  He decided right then to spring his idea on her. “Listen, what would you say to a little golf tonight?”

  Her delicate eyebrows arched. “In the dark?”

  “I said a little golf. As in mini-putt. That place just down the Strip will still be open. I thought you might like that more than a noisy, crowded nightclub.” Ever since he’d caught his first glimpse of that black dress, he’d known Jet was out. He’d been thinking all evening about where he could take her, and the miniature golf idea had just popped into his head.

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Okay, you’re on. But you’d better be prepared to get your butt thoroughly whipped.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Actually, he didn’t doubt it for a minute. A competitive fire burned deep inside Torrey. And he wondered what other kinds of fire smoldered within that tempting body.

  When he offered her the option of a limo ride or a five-block walk down the Strip to the Pirate’s Cove Mini-Golf, she instantly chose the walk. All the way down the street she asked a stream of perceptive questions about his company. She’d clearly done her homework, but he found her avid curiosity surprising.

  Julian had never been to Pirate’s Cove, but he’d walked and driven past it dozens of times. Cheesy was the first word that had sprung to mind whenever he’d noticed the popular Strip attraction. The entrance to the course was a pirate ship’s prow that looked like it had been molded from a dingy chunk of Styrofoam. Precariously balanced on the edge of the prow stood a twenty-foot statue of Pirate Pete, saber pointing defiantly skyward. Too bad the tip of Pete’s nose had broken off, spoiling the ferocious effect.

  Pirate’s Cove actually had two mini-golf courses—one regular and one black light. “Which one should we try?” he asked, leaving the decision up to her.

  She didn’t hesitate. “The black light sounds like more fun.”

  Julian paid, grabbed the putters and balls and led her through into the black light course. A flood of lurid colors washed over them—bizarre shades of blue, purple, pink, red and green. Even the putters and balls glowed in the dark. Garish, pirate-themed props—some hanging in mid-air—popped out of the darkness.

 

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