One Night in Vegas
Page 23
Book 4: NO MAGIC MOMENT
Purchase here Kobo
Book 5: NO SIMPLE SACRIFICE – Coming April 26, 2016
The Cimarron Series
The Cimarrons: They’re the mysterious, magnetic ruling family of the most secretive kingdom on earth: The Island of Arcadia.
No westerners have ever been allowed inside Arcadia’s borders…until now.
Book 1: INTO HIS DARK
Purchase Here Kobo
BOOK 2: INTO HIS COMMAND – February 2016
BOOK 3: INTO HER FANTASIES – Coming November 2016
BOOK 4 – INTO HIS KISS – Coming February 2017
BOOK 5 – INTO THEIR DESTINY – Coming May 2017
About the Author
USA Today bestselling romance author Angel Payne has been reading and writing her entire life, though her love for romances began in junior high, when writing with friends on “swap stories” they’d trade between classes. Needless to say, those stories involved lots of angst, groping, drama, and French kissing.
She began getting a paycheck for her writing in her twenties, writing record reviews for a Beverly Hills-based dance music magazine. Some years, various entertainment industry gigs, and a number of years in the hospitality industry later, Angel returned to the thing she loves the most: creating character-based romantic fiction. Along the way, she also graduated with two degrees from Chapman University in Southern California, taking departmental honors for English, before writing five historical romances for Kensington and Bantam/Doubleday/Dell.
Angel found a true home in writing contemporary-based romances that feature high heat and high concepts, focusing on memorable alpha men and the women who tame them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the Kinky Truth series, the Cimarron Saga, the Secrets of Stone series (with Victoria Blue), and the popular W.I.L.D. Boys of Special Forces series, as well as several stand-alone titles. The Temptation Court series launches in Summer 2016, as part of the 1001 Dark Nights Discoveries project.
Angel still lives in Southern California, where she is married to her soul mate and lives on a street that looks like Brigadoon, with their awesome daughter and Lady Claire, the dog with impeccable manners. When not writing, she enjoys reading, pop culture, alt rock, cute shoes, and being active in the outdoors.
Hard Hand
by
Sierra Cartwright
A daring adventure…
For years, Avery Fisher had been intrigued by the handsome, powerful Cole Stewart. Even though she’s fantasized about being beneath his lash, she’s never been brave enough to approach the renowned Dom.
But tonight, she’s hidden behind a mask at a glittery ball, and that gives her the confidence to be someone she’s not.
Cole would know Avery no matter how clever the disguise. Intrigued by her deception, he plays along, determined to give her exactly what she needs.
But at the end of the night, he will demand she reveal everything, not just her identity, but her true nature and the need for his dominance.
Dedication
For Angel, Victoria, and Whit…and one night in Dallas leading to One Night in Vegas. Thanks also to Mari, Red, Jenna, Shannon, Lorraine. And to Kierstin, ELF, BAB.
It takes a team.
Chapter One
Cole Stewart.
It couldn’t be, Avery told herself. She looked again.
There was no doubt. Only one man stood that tall, that broad, that sexy, that… Dominant.
Her toes curled in her too-high, too-expensive designer sandals. She was positive he hadn’t been on the guest list for her great-aunt’s eightieth birthday extravaganza. Avery would have known. Because Miss Scarlet had been a mainstay in Vegas for six decades and was having a Saints and Sinner masquerade along with a burlesque show as part of the entertainment, Avery had been through the names dozens of times, ensuring no VIP was overlooked, sending out invitations, gathering RSVPs, coordinating with the event planner.
But there he was in all his secret-agent man glory, near the back wall of the ballroom, talking to one of the security guards.
Why was he in Las Vegas? Especially at this exclusive event hosted at the world-renowned Nyte hotel? The last she’d heard several months ago, Cole was undercover, working a case in New York.
The security guard he’d been talking to nodded and walked away. Cole remained where he was, his gaze directed toward the stage.
Since the span of the room separated them and she stood behind the ornate champagne fountain wearing a fabulous mask, Avery was free to feast her eyes on his sumptuous physique.
His dark hair was longer than she remembered. It was no longer tortured into a military cut. Instead, strands teased the collar of his jacket. The look didn’t tame him any. It simply made him more roguish.
In his tuxedo with a black bowtie, he stole the air from her lungs.
Although Cole wasn’t classically handsome; he was rugged in a don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way. Everything about him from his size to his stance promised he was capable of protecting his woman. And she knew he could make one scream from pleasure.
A memory of watching him play with a masochistic submissive lanced through Avery, making her squirm.
She’d been at a BDSM play party at the home of her friends Joe and Noelle when he’d entered the basement with a woman on a leash. The sub had seemed to be locked in some sort of emotional struggle with him, and Avery had never learned why.
Most times when she watched scenes, the partners appeared to be in sync with each other, maybe a little in love. But that night his sub had continually goaded him. He’d responded, slow and methodical, on his terms.
When it was over, he’d been tender with his contrite sub.
Avery had ached to be the woman beneath his lash.
She’d dreamed and masturbated to thoughts of him. Once, when she’d been with another Dom, she’d pretended she was with Cole.
About six months ago, right before she’d left Colorado, she’d seen him again.
He’d been alone, brooding and detached.
Since she’d broken up with her Dominant and craved a hard hand to soothe her, she’d wanted to approach Cole. The desire, though, was at odds with her natural tendencies. She figured that she was supposed to gratefully accept whatever her Dom offered, even though it had caused disappointment, shattered dreams, abandoned relationships.
That night, she’d mentally rehearsed and discarded a dozen different openings—walking up to him and kneeling? Meeting him as an equal? Asking Joe or Noelle for an introduction? Maybe hoping somehow Cole would notice her interest?
After more than an hour of indecision, she’d convinced herself to say hello. But the moment she’d gotten close to him and their gazes had met, she’d temporarily frozen. Even though she was an experienced BDSM player, she’d never had a visceral reaction like she’d had to Cole. His gray eyes—steel and night—had seemed to look straight into her submissive soul to see her need. Nerves trumped courage. She’d started to tremble and her thoughts had become a jumbled mess, and she just couldn’t do it.
Upset with herself because of her cowardice, she’d fled without even saying goodnight to her hosts.
Shortly after that, she’d moved to Las Vegas for the job opportunity with her great-aunt, so she’d given up on seeing him ever again.
And now? Just like that night, her hand was shaking.
Marie, the party planner, saw Avery and strode toward her.
“Does everything look all right?” Marie asked.
Avery was grateful to be shaken from her reverie. “It’s perfect.” And it was. The stage was set up in a retro manner, including square, oversized microphones. The band members wore tuxedos. Several stations were in place, adorned with hors d’oeuvres. A number of tall tables flanked the back and sides of the room while round tables were covered in black and silver tablecloths and decorated with soaring, tall centerpieces crafted from flowers, masks, and peacock feathers. And there was dazzle e
verywhere—sequins and crystal strung from the ceilings, tacked to the walls, all befitting one of the country’s most accomplished and scandalous burlesque dancers.
Backstage, Avery had seen men and women wearing gold or silver body paint and nothing else. Others, though, were dressed in nun’s habits or monk’s robes.
“Have you tried the champagne?” Marie questioned.
“Not yet.” Avery grabbed a flute and held it beneath a stream the flowing pink bubbly. Of course Miss Scarlet had selected a rosé. It had been a favorite since she’d seen An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. Miss Scarlet said she’d once shared a glass with Cary himself. Though Avery wasn’t sure about that, she also didn’t doubt it was possible.
She took a sip, expecting it to taste overly sweet, but it didn’t. It was a brut, so the combination of sweetness and dryness was fantastically complex. “It’s fantastic.”
“That’s what I thought when the sommelier uncorked a bottle.”
Seduced, Avery took another drink. “I’m betting this isn’t the fifty dollars a bottle stuff that I approved?”
Marie winced. “Miss Scarlet was at the tasting, and once she sampled this stuff…”
“Say no more.” Even though Avery was her great-aunt’s financial advisor, Miss Scarlet controlled her own fortune.
“And we didn’t save any money on the dessert,” Marie confessed.
“Not surprised.”
“You will be,” she replied cryptically.
“Oh?” Avery arched her eyebrows.
The party planner pantomimed locking her lips and tossing away the key.
“You don’t think I should be warned?”
“I promised secrecy.”
Unable to help herself any longer, Avery glanced toward the back of the room. Cole was gone. She sighed in relief, but then a stab of restlessness went through her. “Were there last minute changes to the guest list?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I saw Cole Stewart a few minutes ago.”
“Who?” Marie paged through sheets of paper attached to her clipboard.
“He was talking to someone who appeared to be from security. I wasn’t sure if it was hotel security or someone from my great-aunt’s detail.”
“I don’t know him.” Marie shook her head. “No one will get in without an invitation, and I’ll chat with Lucy about him.”
“Thank you.” Lucy Pine was Nyte’s head of security. The petite woman might reach five feet tall in her heeled boots, but she was badass enough to take down the hardest of criminals, all without her braid coming undone.
“Anything else?”
“I think I’ll go and see to Miss Scarlet.”
“Doors will open in about twenty minutes. Make it quick?” Marie pleaded.
“Promise.” Avery topped off her glass before heading toward the bank of elevators that would whisk her toward the private residences.
Maybe because of the champagne and maybe because of her stupid-high heels, she had to steady herself on a railing when the car shot up past all of the casino and hotel floors.
She exited into a gorgeous, long hallway and made her way to her great-aunt’s stunning condominium with an awe-inspiring view of the Strip—the place Miss Scarlet had called home for over sixty years. She’d seen a lot of changes, and mostly, she said, she liked them all. Even if she did sometimes miss a particular dark and dangerous mobster she’d dated decades before.
Francesca Young, the hotel’s concierge, opened the door. “I had to get a look at Miss Scarlet in her outfit,” the woman admitted. “We’ve got a busy night, but I couldn’t resist wishing her a happy birthday.”
“And dropping off several bouquets of roses, it seems.” There had to be twice as many in the condo’s entryway as there had been earlier.
“You great-aunt has a lot of admirers,” Francesca agreed.
After thanking Francesca, Avery made her way to the living room.
Miss Scarlet was standing on a platform, and a tailor was literally sewing her into the costume. A headdress sat off to the side, waiting to be affixed.
Even at eighty, the woman was a bombshell, with a radiant smile, a fit body, and long legs shown off by slits that ran up the sides of her skirt, almost to her buttocks. A number of feathers had been applied in strategic locations, and Avery noticed a pair of long, black gloves draped over a cheval mirror.
As she’d done nightly for years, Miss Scarlet had applied false eyelashes, glittery stage makeup, and carefully added a beauty mark.
Avery leaned in to kiss her great-aunt on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Miss Scarlet.”
“I never tire of hearing that!”
Avery grinned.
“Move over there, into the light where I can see you.”
Though Avery shook her head from mild embarrassment, she did as she was told. After spinning around, she offered a little curtsey.
“Bravo! As I imagined, your dress is magnificent,” Miss Scarlet approved.
Avery struggled with the compliment. When she’d opened the gift from Miss Scarlet, Avery had stared in shock. She’d never seen anything like the gorgeous, clingy black gown. It was cut asymmetrically across her chest, and it only had one strap. It amazed her that it stayed up with the way the back plunged almost to her buttocks. It left her exposed and feeling seductive. She’d fallen in love with it. And since it was tighter than most of her clothing, she’d promised herself that she would lose five pounds. But once she’d discovered that the Nyte had an ATM in the lobby that dispensed cupcakes with the swipe of a credit card, her willpower had been defeated. Still, she was glad she’d stuck with her decision to wear the dress.
“How’s the champagne, darling girl?” Scarlet looked at Avery in the mirror.
“Exquisite.” Avery toasted her.
“Isn’t it? Don’t worry about the budget.”
“It’s your money.”
“I’m going to get Nyte to pay for it.”
“Are you?”
“I’ll make sure your inheritance isn’t impacted.”
“Spend it all. Every last penny. Enjoy it.” Avery rolled her eyes at the familiar refrain. “I want you, not your money.”
“Good thing, since I intend to live another forty years.”
With no plans of ever retiring. Not only did Miss Scarlett still teach dance classes, she owned a studio, had sponsored a museum for cabaret memorabilia, and she produced a burlesque show that sold out night after night.
“Get the party started, will you?” Miss Scarlet suggested. “I’ll be down just as soon as I can.”
“Marie mentioned a surprise. Anything I should know?”
The woman’s sculptured eyebrows rose slightly. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, darling girl.”
“That was what I was afraid you’d say. Oh, do you know anything about Cole Stewart?”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
“Should I?”
“Not at all.” Avery gave her great-aunt another quick kiss before returning to the ballroom. As she made her way to the entrance, she said hello and shook hands with several people as she made her way to the entrance.
One of the security guards opened the door for her.
Before slipping inside, she couldn’t resist a quick look around for Cole. She didn’t see him anywhere. Part of her wondered if she’d conjured him from a very vivid imagination. Or maybe an unstated need. It had been a long time since she’d played with a Dom, even longer since she’d been in a committed relationship. As always, if she went too long without sceneing, she began to feel uncertain, even a bit anxious.
The banquet captain was giving the waitstaff a few final instructions. Marie was speaking with Lucy, and Avery joined them.
“Marie tells me you were asking about Cole Stewart?”
Avery nodded.
“He’s working with Mr. Nyte on a special assignment. He’s been observing a few of our functions, getting a s
ense of how Nyte runs his businesses.”
Her breath whooshed out. “I see.”
“How do you know him?”
“Mutual friends in Colorado. I used to live there.” Better than saying she knew him from BDSM play parties.
“Is it a problem if he looks in occasionally?”
Only to my libido. “Not at all.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need.” Lucy gave them a curt nod before leaving.
When they were alone, Marie tapped her clipboard. “Ready?”
Avery put down her glass to straighten her mask. “Let’s get this party started.”
Marie signaled to the band, and they began their instrumental rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “Luck Be a Lady” while servers moved into position. A couple of the painted entertainers stood still, appearing to be statues. One perched on the grand piano while another linked arms with a nun in a stunning juxtaposition.
When Marie nodded toward the security guard, he signaled to have the doors opened, and the guests began to file in.
Some headed for the bar, others to turn up chairs and lay claim to tables, and a few stood near the tall tables.
For the next thirty minutes, Avery greeted guests while wondering what was keeping her great-aunt. Part of the surprise? Miss Scarlet always did enjoy being in the spotlight.
The moment Cole entered the ballroom, she knew it, even without seeing him.
Wisps of hair rose on her nape as the recognition of his power danced down her spine.
Avery desperately wanted to turn and look at him, but she held off, continuing to smile and talk with people, pretending an interest she suddenly didn’t have.
A tall, thin, gorgeous black singer stepped onto the stage in a catsuit and started to belt out the words to “Fever.”
Avery watched, entranced as the performer strutted down the stairs, over to the grand piano to lean against it.
At least a dozen men, snapping their fingers, emerged from behind the curtain to add to the seductive chorus.