by Marie Carnay
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. But don’t worry, I’ve got an idea.”
Before Hank could ask him a single question, Trenton strode from the room, phone up to his ear and a jump in his step. He checked his phone. Nothing on his schedule today couldn’t be moved.
Trenton wanted to come up with some scheme to woo Willa? Fine. Hank was taking the old fashioned approach. He called Dawn as he headed out the front door.
“Can you reschedule my meetings for today? And hold my calls. I’ll be unavailable all afternoon.”
Chapter 9
WILLA
“Are trade shows always this stressful?”
Willa smiled at Melinda, the woman set up next to her. They’d exchanged hellos the day before, but hadn’t got past the hometown, day job, what-brings-you-to-Vegas introductions. “I wish I could say it gets easier.”
Melinda laughed. The pearls dangling from her ears shimmied. With brown hair sprayed into place and a pale pink twinset, Melinda was a perfect match to the freshwater pearls she worked with. From earrings to necklaces to wrap bracelets, she’d set up an entire display of pearls in every size and color.
She’d been fidgeting with her display all afternoon, rearranging bracelets and necklaces, tinkering with her earring case. No matter how many times she rearranged her booth, sales only came from interested buyers. Willa had learned that the hard way.
Store buyers only acquire jewelry they can sell. From what Willa had seen so far at the show, Vegas buyers wanted glitzy, over the top styles, not the demure pearls her neighbor featured. She glanced at her sales sheet. Buyers weren’t thrilled with her collection, either.
“Have you been doing this a long time?”
Willa scratched her head. “I’ve been making jewelry since high school. But I’ve only tried to make it a business for three or four years.”
“Does it ever get any easier?”
“Not really. But I can’t imagine doing anything else. Can you?”
Melinda fingered her necklace as she thought. “Maybe? I sometimes think an office job would solve a lot of problems.”
Willa resisted the urge to shudder. “Office jobs and me don’t mix.” Her last secretary job still gave her nightmares. One wrong move and the paper had spewed out of the copy machine like money from a bill counter. All ten reams.
She shook her head. “I’ve never been good with a copier.”
“It would be a supreme waste of your talents, that’s for sure.”
A smile spread across her face as she turned. Hank never looked more dashing. Light gray suit with a pale blue shirt, open, no tie. Brown hair mussed just enough to remind her of the night before. That damn sexy beard, trimmed to perfection with a hint of a smile.
She blushed and glanced at her neighbor. Melinda stood still, a bracelet in her hand, mouth gaping open.
“Hank Beauchamp.” He held out his hand and a pang of jealously shot through Willa. No, he’s mine! The thought came unbidden and hard, rushing in to mount an attack. Her insides tangled up at the thought of Hank flirting with another woman. Touching her. Kissing her.
The feeling surprised her. What claim did she have on Hank other than a date and a night she still couldn’t get out of her head?
“Melinda Noels.”
Her neighbor’s hand slipped over Hank’s like a snake over it’s prey and Willa’s temper flared. This has to stop. She leaned toward Hank. “Sorry I left without waking you. Did you get my note?”
She knew her crazy was showing, but Willa couldn’t help herself. Melinda and her delicate, hand-strung pearls weren’t coming any closer to Hank. No woman was, until Willa figured out what the hell was going on inside her head and heart.
Hank let go of Melinda’s hand. “I did. Sorry I was such a heavy sleeper.” He glanced down the aisle in first one direction and then the other before stepping closer. “How long before you can call it a day?”
Certain parts of her anatomy screamed, right now! But her brain shut them down. Business came first, even when a gorgeous man stood in front of her, asking her to leave. She wouldn’t let another man derail her career.
She scrunched up her mouth to keep from frowning. “Two more hours.”
If he was disappointed, he hid it well. “How about I pick you up then?”
“Another night on the town?”
His lips quirked. “More of a history lesson.”
Willa cocked her head. “Sounds interesting.”
“I hope so.”
“Then I’ll see you soon.”
Hank leaned across the table and pulled her close. Her waist brushed a hanging arm of necklaces and the gold and beads clinked together like bells. His lips tickled her ear. “I dreamt of that sexy body of yours all night. I wanted to wake up to the taste of you on my tongue.”
Oh, God. Willa’s whole body wobbled like the hula girl on the dash of her car back home. How badly she wanted him already. “I’m sorry I left.”
“Don’t apologize. I enjoy the chase.” He let her go and Willa sucked in a lungful of air.
“Two hours.” He waited until she nodded before turning to her neighbor. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Noels.”
“Anytime.”
Hank turned on his heel and strode down the aisle, turning a sea of jewelers’ heads in his wake.
As he disappeared from view, Willa exhaled.
“What a man. You are one lucky woman.”
“Am I?”
Melinda leveled her gaze. “Most men are lumps of coal you have to squeeze and prod and work into shape. That one? He’s already a diamond. Scoop him up before someone else does.”
Willa bit her lip. She knew Melinda was right; the way he made her feel with just a few words in her ear…
But he wasn’t the only Beauchamp in the picture. Could she really fall for one and not the other? Or dare she try for both?
She sat back on her stool, lost in thought. Two hours couldn’t come quick enough.
HANK
The idea had come to him while riding the elevator down to the lobby. Why take Willa to a tourist attraction or another shiny, new casino on the strip when he could take her somewhere real. Somewhere that showed its age and history and a place that held special meaning for him?
If Willa was ever going to see their potential as more than a vacation fling, he needed to stop treating it like one.
He glanced over at her as the town car pulled into a parking spot on the side of the road. With her blonde hair gathered up into a messy bun, the slender curve of her neck called to him. He already knew the spot just below her ear that stole her breath. A few quick kisses and they could forget all about what waited outside.
Suddenly, she turned to him, brown eyes simmering liked molten chocolate. Had she heard his thoughts? The pink of her cheeks said yes, but Hank knew it was a fantasy. He leaned closer as the driver opened the back door. “Ready?”
Willa nodded and Hank took her hand. They climbed out and the soft whoosh of her dress grazed his body as she stood. He motioned at the old-fashioned light bulbs undulating in a wave above their heads. “Welcome to old Las Vegas.”
Slipping his arm around her back, Hank guided Willa past the throngs of tourists and guides with megaphones and slipped into a casino built before either of them were born.
The red and gold hand rails echoed a Vegas that was on the decline decades before Hank ever made his first dollar. But the magic of the place, vintage or no, still shone in the lit-up cowboy waving his hand in slow motion and the chandeliers full of bright round bulbs.
“Why are we here?”
“There’s something I want to show you. It’s this way.” He steered her past the concierge and welcome desk, reception halls and a cafe, and down a hall. Pausing outside a pair of open double doors, Hank smiled. Here goes nothing. “After you.”
Willa stepped inside and Hank followed. The walls were covered with photos he knew well. But he hoped they were new for Willa.
&n
bsp; She walked up to the first set, eyes alive with questions. “Is this the same street?”
Hank nodded. “The whole area was called Glitter Gulch. The first casinos set up shop right here on Freemont Street in the 1930s.”
“It’s so bright, even in a black and white photo.”
“Because electricity in Vegas was so cheap, everyone put up neon signs back then. The place has glowed non-stop from the minute gambling was legalized in 1931.”
Willa turned to him. “Why do you know so much about Vegas history?”
Hank paused. Part of him wanted to tell her everything right then, but he still didn’t know her well. Would she reject him when she learned the truth? He hedged. “Trenton and I grew up here.”
She gave him the side eye. “I grew up in Los Angeles, but I don’t know it’s history apart from what I learned in grade school.”
He exhaled. Maybe a portion of the truth wouldn’t hurt. “It’s personal for us. My grandfather built the very casino we’re standing in.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not one bit. My dad’s first job was a janitor before he worked his way up.”
“Right here, this casino?”
Hank shook his head. “No. Most of the money left downtown before I was born. My dad worked the strip from the start, but my grandfather never left downtown.” He looked up at the photo of his grandfather’s first hotel. “It holds a lot of memories.”
Willa reached out and squeezed his arm. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
They walked together through the exhibit with Willa pointing at various photos and Hank explaining all he knew. When he’d first thought of bringing her to the tiny history museum, he’d hoped she’d take a bit of interest, or at least fake it for a few minutes. But Willa was spellbound with it all.
From the way her eyes lit up with every new photo, to the way her fingers splayed out over the display cases of old memorabilia, she practically radiated excitement. It was more than he ever hoped for. She wasn’t just playing along like so many other women he’d met who only wanted him to shower them in gifts and take them out to the next big thing.
Willa actually cared about his past and found it interesting. Hank reached for her hand, his thick fingers sliding over her soft skin. With a tug, her body molded against his, soft and pliable in all the right places.
He tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear before tilting her face up to meet his. The first brush of his lips and she opened for him, a sigh of longing cut off by the force of his kiss.
The taste of mint and wine burst on his tongue as they kissed and damn if Hank didn’t want to take her right there. Ass brushing against the glass case, breasts heaving under the lights of the museum; his cock throbbed with the thought of it.
Fuck. He tore at her dress, hands roving beneath the soft cotton to grope the creamy white skin he couldn’t wait to lick.
“Hank. Don’t… you… think…” Willa pushed against his chest, her protests mumbled against the heat of his lips.
“Don’t talk.” He growled his answer against her cheek before diving down to kiss the tender skin beneath her jaw. Willa’s fists opened, clutching at his shirt as he snaked down her chest to nuzzle between the acres of cleavage he wanted to smother in.
“What about security?”
Hank pulled Willa off the cabinet and spun her around, backing her up until she stumbled out of the doors and down the hall. He tore open the door to a phone booth and dragged her inside.
His hand never left her ass. “Better?”
She kissed him in affirmation, the hesitancy of moments before as absent as his control. God, he was so far over the ledge with Willa he couldn’t turn back. Not now, not ever.
Her tits spilled out of her dress and Hank yanked the fabric down until a nipple popped free. The stubby nub rolled across his tongue as he sucked it into his mouth and Willa arched her back, giving in to his demands.
So damn sweet. With both hands, Hank tugged the front of her dress and bra down, smashing her glorious breasts together so he could suckle. Over and over he lapped at first one nipple and then the other, forcing moans and whimpers from Willa’s lips as she tore her hands through his hair.
“Hank, please. I can’t wait any more.”
He glanced up, tongue still flicking against her sensitive flesh to catch Willa’s brown eyes begging him to fuck her. Hank wasn’t the sort to refuse.
“Scoot up on the table. Spread your legs.”
As Willa did his bidding, Hank fished a condom from his pocket and yanked open his pants. He grabbed Willa by the hips, jerking her ass right to the edge of the built-in table. Her panties were soaked in her own arousal, the nude satin dark with need. He shoved them aside and found her clit, plump and swollen and begging for his touch.
One, two, three times around he stroked, until Willa quivered in anticipation, her thighs shaking uncontrollably. As he stepped closer, his cock nudged her entrance. “Brace yourself.”
She scrabbled along the wall, fingers digging into the wood trim around the desk as he took her. Yes. Balls-deep in a single thrust, her body begging for him to fill her up and stake his claim. Make her his.
He pulled back and thrust again, driving her into the wall and dragging a groan her from her lips. With every pump of his hips, Willa’s tits bounced, her knees wobbled, and Hank fell harder. Sex with her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
She made him reckless and wild. Uncontrolled and feral. He reached between them, circling her clit with his fingers as he fucked her into the wall. Over and over he worked her, pushing her toward an orgasm as he forced his own to hold off.
With a strangled cry, she came, milking his cock as the pleasure rolled over her. Hank came a second later, emptying into the condom as bliss over came him.
He glanced up, waiting until she opened her eyes to lick her sweet cream off his fingers. He smiled as he stared.
Mmm. “I finally got a taste.”
Chapter 10
WILLA
I can’t stop thinking about Hank. Willa slid off the stool and crouched in front of her stack of trays. Ever since the night before when she’d lost her mind and had sex in the phone booth of a classic hotel, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her thoughts.
The man knew just where to touch her and just what to say to short-circuit her brain. And the way he brought her to the museum to show her a part of himself? Sweet and sexy and thoughtful all at the same time.
He was more than she could have ever hoped for in a guy. Which was exactly what she’d come to Vegas to avoid. Bree had been right; you always find what you want when you stop looking.
Opening the top tray, Willa tried to focus. Mark had always been the one in control. The guy who told her to cut her hair because he liked it short, the one who told her to wear green because it made her eyes pop.
The guy who told her jewelry was a hobby, not a job. She frowned. It was the whole reason she’d walked out. No one who really loved you asked you to give up your passion, no matter how hard the road.
Hank didn’t seem to be the same. Everything he’d said and done showed her how much he loved her business. But if she didn’t secure more orders, she could kiss any relationship hopes goodbye. She’d be too busy trying to scrounge up enough money for rent to have time to get to know a guy.
“Ms. Gordon?”
Willa stood up with a start. A woman in a smart business suit and wire-rimmed glasses stood in front of her, iPad in her hand. “Yes, I’m Willa Gordon.”
“Hi, I’m Dawn Hopkins. I represent a few retailers in the area.”
Willa’s eyes went wide, but she managed a sensible nod. “How can I help you?”
The woman glanced down at her tablet and back up. “I’ve gotten a request to place your jewelry in several stores. Would you be amenable to such an arrangement?”
‘What type of stores?”
Ms. Hopkins checked her screen ag
ain. “Several casino jewelry stores on the strip.”
Willa blinked. She’d taken a tour of a few shopping districts tucked inside fancy casinos before the trade show started. Thousands of tourists passed by the store fronts every day. “You mean the ones inside the mall areas or gift shop type places?”
Ms. Hopkins cocked her head. “Let me check.” She swiped across her screen, eyes darting back and forth. “Exclusive retail, it appears. Not gift shops.”
“So dedicated jewelry stores, then?”
“That’s what it says, yes. Is that something you’d be willing to discuss?”
Willa frowned. Usually buyers who came to these shows knew exactly what they wanted and for how much. She wasn’t sure this woman had much experience. “What kind of timing are we talking?”
“Immediate.”
“Pricing?”
She glanced at the screen. “Your wholesale list price would be fine.”
Willa bit her lip. If the woman wasn’t negotiating, then she couldn’t want very many pieces. The order probably wouldn’t put a dent in her sales figures. “Are there specific pieces you’re interested in? Or a line?”
The coiffed brunette snapped the folio cover on her tablet shut and smiled. “All of them.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’d like to buy all of the pieces you currently have for sale.”
Willa’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know what to say. Sure, she’d heard from friends in the industry who landed a department store or a retail chain. But she never thought someone would walk in and just snatch up all her inventory. Usually there was a discussion of terms and an ongoing promise to deliver.
But if this woman were for real, Willa would make enough money to forget rent for the rest of the year. She could concentrate on the business, maybe hire an employee. It wasn’t the long-term contract she wanted, but it was better than she’d hoped for that morning.
“You’re serious?”
“Very.”
“Then I’d be happy to sell.”