by Jane Jamison
She was afraid she’d stuck out her neck for nothing. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
And then he yanked her against his body.
Oh my.
He was hard, so hard. Her breasts pressed against his solid chest. Her hands clutched the front of his shirt. Her right leg lifted, begging him to hold it, to lift her up and let her wrap both legs around his waist.
But the part of him that was the hardest was the bulge in his slacks. She smiled against the rough kiss, thrilled to know he wanted her.
He leaned her backward, his mouth ravishing hers. He nibbled, sucked, and nibbled again. His tongue swept inside her mouth, reminding her of Roman doing the same. She moaned and clutched to him even more.
Just like Roman, he’d taken her mind and ripped all common sense from it. She was in the middle of the casino with a crowd surrounding them, and she didn’t care who saw them. Her body came alive yet again, her lust for him mounting higher and higher.
Take me. Right here. Right now.
If he’d laid her on the floor, hell, on top of one of the blackjack tables, and stripped her clothes from her, she would’ve cried out her joy. When his lips traveled from her mouth and down her neck, heating her flesh, she closed her eyes and willed him to suck on her nipple. He groaned as his hand came up to fondle her breast.
“Daaaamn. Will you look at those two, Mable? You’d never see anything like that back home in Alabama.” The older man’s voice entered her consciousness then was gone in the next instant.
But not so with Dalton.
He yanked her upward then pushed her back, still holding on to her as she wobbled on her feet. She stared up at him, breathless.
Dalton ran his hand over his ruffled hair, smoothing it back into position. “Did I pass your dare?”
Did he really expect her to answer? Instead, she nodded.
“Then hand over the bracelet.”
What the hell?
He expected her to give in with a single kiss? Granted, it was one amazing kiss, but as soon as he’d opened his mouth, he’d burst the spell he’d put her under. “Your name’s Dalton, right?” As if she’d forgotten.
“Yes.”
She lifted onto her tiptoes. Adopting a horrible Brooklyn accent, she quipped, “Forget about it.”
Spinning on her heel, she stormed toward the elevators. Once there, she peered through the crowd, half hoping to see him following her.
Damn. Where is he?
Her hand went around the bracelet as the elevator doors closed.
Chapter Three
Shirley hugged the bed pillow against her chest. “You did what?”
“I kissed them. Both of them.”
Her friend’s eyes were circles behind the black circles of her glasses. “And this Dalton man, he’s as hot as Roman?”
“He sure is.” Peyton flopped onto the couch of their hotel room.
“But you’re not— I mean, you’re…you.”
Peyton didn’t take offence. After all, Shirley was right. “Wasn’t that the whole point of coming to Vegas? We wanted to go wild, to do things we’d never do back home.”
“Yeah, but who knew you’d do it the first day we got here?” Shirley groaned. “Damn it. Why couldn’t I have stayed with you? Instead, I let the lure of the slot machines drag me off. And what did it get me? Twenty dollars in the hole, that’s what. Instead, you got two hot men to lock lips with you while I’m up here in the room watching the kiddie channel.”
“Is that what you’re calling the porn station now?” She caught the pillow Shirley threw.
“That’s some bracelet. I mean it doesn’t look like anything you’d see in Clanton’s Jewelry Emporium back home.”
She made an unladylike snort. “They wouldn’t have anything remotely this nice.” Or expensive. Or unique.
Peyton twisted the golden ringlet around her wrist and, as she had so many times before, started to take it off then changed her mind. For some inexplicable reason, she was leery, almost afraid to take it off. Roman had asked her not to, but wouldn’t she have to once she went to bed? Again, she turned it around, letting the coolness of the metal warm under her fingertips.
“I know he’s got to be rich and all, but why give a girl he barely knows such an expensive gift?”
“He said it was because I was his lucky charm. His Lady Luck.” They both knew his reason was a lame one.
“Uh-huh.”
She shrugged, unwilling to delve any deeper into his possible reasons. She’d been thrilled and flattered when a man like Roman had wanted her near him. Then to give her such an extravagant gift? It was like something out of a romance movie.
“Can I try it on?” Shirley stuck out her hand, her dark eyebrows jumping above her black-rimmed glasses.
At any other time, Peyton would’ve given her friend anything she wanted. But yet again, she couldn’t bring herself to remove it. “Um, Roman asked me to keep it on, remember?”
The eyebrows dived south, and the arm dropped. “Oh, come on. He didn’t mean that literally. What are you planning on doing? Sleeping with it on? Showering with it?”
Yes.
“Still, I’d better keep it on.” She couldn’t explain how she was feeling. For whatever reason, Roman had entrusted her with an expensive piece of jewelry, and by keeping it, she’d agreed to not take it off. Hopefully, Shirley would understand.
“Okay, okay. I get it. It’s new and shiny and from a sexy guy. And you aren’t ready to share it.”
She smiled gratefully at her friend. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Sure. No problem.” Shirley lay back against the headboard. “And what about keeping it?”
“What do you mean?” She fingered the gold, loving the feel of the scales running along its length.
“Are you going to keep it? Or are you going to give it back to Roman? Or hand it over to Dalton?”
“If Roman wants it back, then I’ll give it to him. I can’t give it to Dalton. As far as I know, it’s not his. Trust me, if the bracelet was actually stolen, the police would be here right now.” She had to be right. If she wasn’t, then she’d be guilty of felony possession of stolen goods.
Nah, I’m right. I know I am.
She startled, letting out a small yelp, as someone pounded on the door. Had Dalton called the police? Was she in trouble? The police could’ve found out her room number from the front desk or hotel security.
“Oh, shit. It’s the cops.”
“Don’t be silly, Shirley.” And yet, her legs felt weak as she walked to the door. If she was arrested in Vegas and tossed in jail, would her employer find out about it? Would they arrest Shirley, too, or would her friend be able to bail her out?
By the time she opened the door, she was racking her brain, trying to remember the name of her cousin’s attorney. Her hand shook as she took hold of the doorknob. She swung the door open, her heart beating fast and hard.
“Miss Henley?”
She let out a breath when she saw the hotel manager, a maid, and a bellhop. No cops and no security men. “Yes?”
“I’m Rupert Houseman, the hotel manager. If you’d allow us, we’d like to find you other accommodations.”
Were they throwing her out? In a matter of minutes, she’d be homeless on the Strip. “Other accommodations?”
“Yes, miss. Mr. Roman Sterling has procured a complementary suite on the executive level of the hotel for your stay. Provided, of course, you accept. If you like, we can gather your things and move you to the suite right now.”
“You’re kidding. A suite?” She glanced over her shoulder at Shirley. Her friend clung to another bed pillow, her mouth hanging open. Facing the manager, she asked what any self-respecting girl from Ohio would do. “Is it free?”
“Yes, miss. Your stay is taken care of, including the charges for your current room as well as any beverages and meals consumed in the hotel.” The corners of his mouth lifted just enough to show the smallest of smiles. “If y
ou accept his offer.”
Well, duh. My mamma didn’t raise no fool. “Yes. Of course we’d love to stay in the suite.”
“Wonderful. Milly, will you pack Miss Henley’s and Miss Wysterman’s things?”
“Yes, sir.” The young maid nodded first at the manager and then at Peyton before easing past her.
“If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you to your suite. They’ll pack your things and bring your luggage.”
“Okay. Sure.” She suppressed an excited giggle and waved for Shirley to come with them.
Following Mr. Houseman into the elevator, she watched as he handed both of them a special keycard they’d need to use the private elevator. Up and up they went, forty floors higher, until they were on the floor directly under the penthouse level. The elevator doors opened up to a foyer that led to an ornately carved wooden door.
“Am I dreaming?” whispered Shirley as they stepped into the huge suite.
“If you are, I’m dreaming, too. Whatever you do, don’t wake me up.”
A large living room with lush furnishings in a tasteful silver and blue design filled the vast space. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed a spectacular view of the Las Vegas Strip.
“There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms, one on either side of the living area.”
She found it difficult to pull her attention away from the view, but she managed just in time to see Mr. Houseman open the door to the first bedroom. He then moved across to open the second bedroom door before pointing toward a large kitchen off to the left and back of the living area. “Anything you would like for your meals can be either delivered or prepared in the kitchen. Mr. Sterling’s private chef is available should you require him.”
“Is that free, too?” Shirley shrugged at Peyton’s pointed look. “What? I’m just asking.”
“Yes, Miss Wysterman. Everything is taken care of.”
I really am dreaming.
Her gaze fell onto a large basket of goodies, including imported chocolates and two bottles of champagne she’d only heard of but had never thought she’d ever get to taste. “Roman, I mean, Mr. Sterling did all this for us? Are you sure?”
Shirley copied the hard glare she’d given her a moment earlier. Peyton shrugged. It was simply too amazing to believe.
“Yes, miss.” Mr. Houseman’s dark gaze zeroed in on her. “He wants you to enjoy your stay in luxury and privacy.”
Privacy? As in being safe?
She fingered the bracelet again. Was he keeping her safe? Or the bracelet safe? It almost felt as though he was providing her with a gilded cage.
“Ah, here are your things now.” Mr. Houseman’s bald head shone in the bright lights of the chandelier as he waved the bellhop and Milly into the suite. “They’ll take care of everything, but should you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call me.” He handed her a card. “I will be happy to take care of all your needs personally, day or night.”
“Thank you.” Was she supposed to tip them? And yet, before she knew it, they were finished unpacking their clothes and walking out the door.
She waited until they were gone. “Wow.”
“You can say that again. This is fucking unbelievable.” Shirley popped one of the chocolate-covered strawberries into her mouth.
“Yeah. It is.”
“Then why aren’t you happy?”
“I am.” She was, right? And yet a knot had formed in her stomach. Had she gotten involved in something more than a vacation fling?
“Then what’s wrong?” Shirley had already wolfed down two more strawberries and was trying to uncork a bottle of champagne.
“Nothing. I just hope Roman’s not expecting too much in return.”
“Too much? As in having sex with him?” Shirley snorted. “Oh, yeah. Sexy fun with a rich and generous handsome man. Poor you.” She finally got the champagne opened. “Here, take a swig.”
As usual, Shirley’s humor eased her anxiety. “Straight out of the bottle?”
“Why not?” She popped the other bottle open. “We’ve got two of them. Now stop worrying and start drinking. We’re here to loosen up for once and party.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” She took the bottle and a big swig.
“Now back to what really matters.” Another strawberry was gone in the next instant. “The men. Did they say anything about getting together again?”
Peyton took another drink. “No. Although not seeing Dalton wouldn’t bother me much.” Or would it? Although she’d worried about him taking the bracelet, she’d also felt drawn to him. He had a way about him. Both sophisticated and easy-going, an intoxicating mix.
“Terrific. Then if, or when, you do see him again, point him in my direction.” Shirley dug around in the basket of goodies. “After all, what are best friends for if you can’t share the wealth? Especially when the wealth includes handsome, rich men.”
“Dalton didn’t hit me as the type who takes orders. He’s more of the order-giving kind.”
“Yeah, well, a girl can try, right?”
Peyton took a chocolate-covered strawberry but didn’t take a bite. “Sure. I guess.” What if her friend and Dalton did get together? She’d be happy for her, of course. Or would she?
“Hey, you, no daydreaming. Even though we’re in this fancy suite, we’re still going out on the town. We can sleep in tomorrow and really enjoy the luxury.” Shirley flounced off toward the second bedroom where the bellhop and maid had taken her suitcase. “Yep. This trip is going to be full of good times.”
Peyton chewed on her bottom lip. Would there be good times? Or were bad times ahead?
* * * *
Roman knew Dalton would track him down sooner or later. He’d settled into a comfortable chair in the lobby of the Hotel Royale to wait, along with a bottle of his favorite wine.
Unfortunately, Rakston, one of his Talasium Dragon mates, might mess up his plans. The big oaf sat at one of the roulette wheels, and judging from the amount of groans-turning-into-growls, he was losing and losing big. If Rakston thought Roman would reimburse him for his losses, he had another thing coming. Being clan mates had nothing to do with business. Still, if Dalton showed up before Rakston took off, he might have to bribe the jerk to keep his mouth closed.
Rakston seeing Roman and Dalton together wouldn’t do either one of them any good. Although he could explain it away as Dalton coming into the club for entertainment, he doubted the others would buy his excuse.
Dalton was his friend. He was a bad choice as a friend because of the friction between their clans, but Roman had liked the man from the start. He’d clicked with him as he had with few others. If they’d shared a clan, they would’ve become inseparable. Besides, Dalton was older and stuck in his ways, which made it fun to taunt him.
He glanced up from his crystal glass to see Rakston headed his way. The man almost stumbled over his own feet and sloshed his drink onto the lush carpet. Too bad he couldn’t choose his clan mates. If so, he would’ve booted Rakston to the curb and brought in Dalton. He motioned toward one of the employees, who deftly redirected the drunken man toward another game.
Dalton was next to him before he realized it. The man was a stealth flier as a dragon and a ninja on the ground in his human form. Dalton took a seat across from Roman, putting his back to Rakston.
“I found the bracelet.”
A cold chill swept over Roman. He kept his expression calm as he leaned forward and placed his glass on the table. “You’re kidding. Where?”
“A human female was wearing it.”
Damn. So he really has seen the bracelet and Peyton.
Roman didn’t have to act distressed now. “What? A girl? Or a woman?” Peyton was both. She seemed innocent yet with the body of a woman. He narrowed his eyes. “Did you take it away from her?”
“I tried.” Dalton’s eyes narrowed and locked onto him. “Yeah. I tried, but she wouldn’t give it back. I asked her to give it to me, but she refused.”
> Roman laughed, drawing the attention of those around them—including Rakston. His clan mate’s gaze landed on him then jumped to Dalton. A scowl darkened his already surly expression.
“What’d you expect her to do? Just give it to a man she’d never met?” He searched his friend’s face. “You haven’t met, have you? I mean before today?”
“No. She’s one of those Midwesterners in town for a fun time.”
She wasn’t just one of those people. Roman had realized it as soon as he’d met her, but after they’d kissed, he’d known it for certain. She was special. Different. More.
She was beautiful, but it was something else. Perhaps it was her innocence—or the quick recognition of a kindred soul. He’d cared for women throughout the centuries, but somehow Peyton had drawn him in faster than all the others. The feeling had excited and unnerved him.
“Did you get her name? Did you find out where she was staying?” Roman retrieved his glass and took a swallow. If Dalton found out the truth, their friendship could be over.
“I didn’t get her name, but she’s staying here.”
“How do you know?” He’d changed her hotel room, not only to treat her to the luxuries of a suite but to hide her. After giving instructions to the staff not to reveal her first room number or that she was staying at the hotel, he’d placed the suite reservation under his name. No one would know she and her friend were there unless she told them.
“She got away by ducking into one of the room elevators.”
Good. She’s taking care of the bracelet like I asked her to.
“Then we can’t find her. Unless you want to go through every guest’s registration and see who’s from the Midwest.” He grinned at Dalton, enjoying his friend’s irritation. “Or you could go door-to-door and see who’s in each room. Not that I’d let you disturb my guests.”
“Maybe you’ve seen her? Or one of your staff has?” Dalton crossed his legs, hooking his ankle on top of his knee.
“Describe her.” Roman would enjoy listening to the description. Physically, Dalton might do her justice, but that was only her exterior. She was so much more inside.