Weekend in Vegas!

He nodded. “Not a problem.” Although, in fact, it was.

Touching Alex was like juggling flaming swords. Sooner or later a man was bound to set the curtains on fire and start something he couldn’t stop. That wasn’t allowed, but…what could he do? She had clearly gotten into this tour without thinking, and now she was improvising and treading water. Only someone with no heart at all would desert her now. He, it seemed, still had a heart…or something that vaguely resembled one. It had withered because he chose not to use it. With good reason, he reminded himself. Still, he would dance with her.

“How did this happen? The speakers and the music?” he asked, trying to keep his mind on the situation and off the woman.

She looked down at their joined hands as if she hadn’t realized that she had taken his hand and was regretting the intimate connection. “I threw myself on Pete’s mercy. I had to do something to give the tour a little oomph,” she said. “Even if this whole event was…accidental, the guests signed up for a tour, and they deserve something special.”

“I agree. So we’ll dance, Alexandra.” As he placed his hand at her waist, he was instantly aware of the warmth of her body, the subtle jasmine scent of her hair, those pretty blue eyes gazing up at him as he twirled her around the floor.

“I didn’t actually plan this part beforehand. Us dancing together, I mean,” she confessed. “I should have asked first, before roping you into this dance.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s an order. Besides, I consider myself lucky. This may be my last chance to dance in the Blue Ballroom before it becomes the Beating Heart Ballroom,” he said, surprising himself once again by teasing her. What was it about Alex that made him do such unwise things?

She chuckled. “I never thought about that. What if all the names submitted are hideous?”

“Then we’ll have another contest.”

“You’re being very nice about being dragged into this,” she said, but he shook his head.

“I believe I’m the one who dragged you into this job.”

“I could have said no,” she whispered as the music became slower. And without thinking, without a trace of common sense, he pulled her closer and tried not to think about how soft she felt against the hard planes of his chest.

She could have said no and left him in the lurch. But she had said yes, he thought, and now she was in his arms, and he was in danger of doing something stupid…like pulling her even closer against his body, right in front of the tour group.

But the music ended. Alex smiled and thanked him.

“There’s nothing to thank me for. We danced. I enjoyed it.” End of story.At least his mind wanted it to be the end. His nerve-endings, however, were still remembering Alex in his arms.

“Could we have another longer dance some evening?” someone asked.

“Why not weekly?” Alex suggested, and a new McKendrick’s tradition was born.

The rest of the tour followed the same pattern, with Alex thinking of some new idea, such as having movies running constantly in the theater, complete with popcorn. But when they came to the solarium, she asked Wyatt to explain the history of the room.

“It was simple,” he said to his audience. “When I first came here I missed green. So I tried to create a green haven.”

“You succeeded,” Alex said. “Tropical plants, comfortable chairs, private nooks and the sound of bubbling water. I could find a happy escape here.”

“I hope you will come here when you need some downtime,” Wyatt said, looking directly into Alex’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she mouthed silently, and he wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for talking to the group or for suggesting a private escape for her. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that for a moment he’d felt intimately connected to her. That wasn’t safe for either of them.

By the time the tour ended, Alex was on a first-name basis with every person, and they had all promised to recommend the tour to others, to show up to her dances, to watch her movies and start submitting names for the ballroom. Within less than a week Alex had charmed his customers and promised to tip McKendrick’s operating procedures upside down.

And, Wyatt mused as he insisted on walking her to her room, she had threatened the even keel he liked to maintain on his emotions. “You won them over easily,” he told her as they made it to her door.

“Well, I have a lot of practice shepherding people around, and I enjoyed doing this. Helping people can be pretty rewarding most of the time.”

“But not always?” There was that fleeting shadow in her eyes again.

“Nothing works one hundred percent of the time,” she said. “Sometimes I get a little overzealous or overly involved and that can have a downside.”

He wondered if she’d been “overly involved” with any of those jerks who had made her swear off men. But of course she had. Even from the short time he’d known her, Wyatt could see that Alex was the type to jump in and help total strangers. How much more would she give to those she cared about? And how deeply would she have been hurt when those men she’d cared for disappointed her?

That, he realized, was hitting too close to home. He’d disappointed women. He didn’t want Alex to be one of them.

“That won’t happen here, though,” she told him. “I won’t get…overzealous. I’m just trying to help the hotel.”

She would have heard the stories about him and women. He knew about the bets. He ignored them.

“I’m glad you’re here helping,” he said, wanting to reassure her, to tell her that he wouldn’t disappoint her.

“I’m glad, too. McKendrick’s is so special.”

At that husky comment about the place that he had poured himself into, Wyatt couldn’t seem to stop the rush of sensation sluicing through him. “Thank you.” He reached down, took her chin in his hand and lowered his head to taste her lips.

She was soft…warm…yielding. And when she angled her head and placed her hand on his chest, all reason fled. He pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. His senses were spinning.

She looped her arms around his neck. Her fingertips slid into his hair.

That small move nearly undid him completely, even as he realized that they were standing in the damned hallway!

As if he’d said something—had he whispered something against her lips?—Alex turned statue-still. She pushed back lightly against his chest with both palms. Immediately she stepped away.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I—”

Instantly, regret and anger at himself assaulted him. He reached out and took both her hands in his. “Shh, Alex. Don’t apologize when I’m the one at fault. You’ve told me that you’re on a break from men, so this was all on me. I should never have touched you.”

“It wasn’t just you,” she insisted. “Although…yes, I do have a bad history with men. And I don’t want to repeat that bad history. I’m absolutely not doing that anymore.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “If I ever step out of line, I want you to tell me. Don’t let the fact that I’m your boss stop you. I’ve had enough vindictive people in my life to ever want to be one, so you’re safe. All right? You’ll tell me?”

He was expecting her to do something meek. She was clearly vulnerable right now. Instead she looked up, a mischievous expression lit her eyes, and she laughed. “You have got to be kidding. I can’t think of too many women who would think you were getting out of line for merely kissing them.”

He frowned. “I went from dancing with you straight to kissing you, and it was turning rather…fiery.”

Her smile froze. “Yes, it was.”

“I was on the verge of taking it further.”

Alex looked to the side. “Um, well, yes, I was on the verge, too. And that’s my point,” she said, taking a visible breath and looking at him again. She reached out and tapped him on the chest with her index finger. Actually poked him. “This isn’t about what you were doing. This is about me being in control of myself and knowing my limits. I am and I do.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it. I’m not doing something stupid with you.”

She sounded so incensed and miffed that he couldn’t help smiling. “Understood.”

“Under no circumstances am I kissing you again or getting all hot and bothered or…”

“Yes.”

Alex looked directly into his eyes. She crossed her arms. “Well, I think it’s been a very full day, Mr. McKendrick, with more to do tomorrow. I think I’d better go inside now.”

“Of course,” he said. “I agree. Good night, Alexandra.” His tone was totally calm. He sounded as if he had been completely unaffected by what had just happened here. He wanted to be unaffected, had to be. But as he left her, heat still pulsed through him. He wanted to kiss her again.

Alex was trying her best not to think about what had happened last night, but every time she tried not to think about Wyatt, her lips burned, her arms ached, her whole body…yearned.

“Stupid,” she muttered.

“Something wrong?” Randy asked.

“Nothing,” she lied. If her body had been a building, flames would have been shooting through the roof.

“I just heard through the grapevine that the owners of Champagne are upgrading all of their furnishings and offering a complimentary chocolate dessert buffet for their guests every night. They’re determined to win the award.”

“Does Wyatt know?”

“Wyatt knows everything, but if it matters to him he’s not showing it.”

But Alex knew that it mattered. McKendrick’s was his creation, a wonderful creation. Why shouldn’t he care?

“You stupid kid! You idiot!”

The yell came from across the lobby. A harried-looking mother with a baby and two little ones cried out as a man rose up above a small boy of maybe five. The little boy looked up in fear. An empty soda cup lay at his feet, a puddle of liquid pooling over a stack of papers. “This is my work. Lady, your stupid kid has ruined days of work, and I—”

The cords on the man’s neck stood out. The boy cowered against his mother, who tried to reach out to him, but she was hampered by having her arms full with her other children.

“It’s okay, Denny,” she said, trying to substitute soothing words.

“It’s not okay,” the man said, bending over to get into the child’s face. “You’re an idiot, you know that? It’s going to take me weeks to replace all of this.”

Alex could hear the boy whispering loudly, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” Teary, desperate puffs of words. Her heart cracked. Anger rose up within her.

There was someone heading straight toward the concierge desk, obviously in need of assistance, but Alex didn’t even stop to see who it was. She flew across the lobby toward the little boy, squeezing herself between the man and the child and jostling them both in the process.

“Don’t listen, sweetheart,” she told the boy in a soft, low voice. “I’m sure it was just an accident. They happen. To all of us.”

“Butt out, lady,” the man said. “It’s not just an accident to me. I want somebody to fix this. Now. And I want his parents to pay me for what this little jerk did.”

She felt the man’s big, hard hand close around her bicep, but she didn’t turn to look at him, even though her heart was beating fast. The little boy looked as if he was going to faint. His mother was starting to cry and desperately trying to find someplace safe to put her younger ones so she could get to her son.

Alex heard a woman gasp. Turning to look, she saw Wyatt moving toward her, his eyes like missiles targeted on the man.

“If you don’t get your hand off her right now and back away from that child, you’re going to find yourself in police custody very quickly. Almost immediately. I can guarantee that.”

Wyatt’s low but deadly voice cut through the crowd and a silence fell over the room. His expression was dark and fierce, his eyes narrowed. They flickered only slightly as he took in Alex and the boy and seemed to decide that they were all right. Then, as she quickly took the little boy by the hand and led the mother and her children over to a nearby couch, Wyatt turned his attention fully to the red-faced man.

“My papers are ruined,” the man whined.

“That’s regrettable. It’s unfortunate that you don’t have copies.” But Wyatt’s voice sounded anything but sympathetic.

“I do, but not here.”

“Yet you terrorized a child, one of my guests.”

“I’m one of your guests.”

Wyatt’s eyes were green ice. “Not anymore. Any money you’ve spent here will be refunded, but you’re not welcome at McKendrick’s.”

“I have a reservation.”

“And I have a hotel. My hotel trumps your reservation. Get out.” He gave one quick look to the side, and instantly two security guards stepped out of a nearby foyer.

The man muttered a low, foul epithet, but he began to gather up his soggy papers as the guards approached. Wyatt asked another employee to take down the man’s information. Then he turned to Alex, the woman and the little boy.

The woman looked as if life had been beating her up lately. “I—Thank you,” she said to Alex and Wyatt. “Oh…here, I’ll take her.” The woman’s littlest moppet—maybe three years old at best—had crawled onto Alex’s lap, her thumb in her mouth.

“It’s all right. She’s fine,” Alex said, stroking the child’s silken curls. “She’s adorable. And so is Denny.”

Denny hung his head.

“He’s clumsy now and then,” his mother said, still a bit teary, “but he’s a good boy.”

“And he’s very brave,” Wyatt said, squatting down in front of the child. “Accidents happen, son,” he said. “When I was your age, they happened to me all the time.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “For real?”

The desperation in his voice made Alex remember what it was like to be very young and do something humiliating in public. Children hadn’t yet learned how to shrug that kind of thing off. The shame could resurface in thoughts years later.

“Oh, yeah,” Wyatt said. “I once spilled red fruit punch on my uncle’s white suit. It was his favorite, and I ruined it.”

“What happened?” the boy whispered.

Wyatt hesitated. “I grew up. You will, too. You should be careful, but the man was wrong to talk to you like that. All of us make mistakes. He’ll survive.”

He lightly tapped the boy’s nose, then turned to the mother, found out that she was visiting her sister at the hotel, and made arrangements for a meal and a babysitter.

After the woman and her children had gone upstairs, Alex turned to Wyatt. She wanted to thank him for stepping into a situation that had been escalating. But Wyatt was already almost out of the vicinity. As he started to leave the lobby, he turned and looked at her, and there was a scowl on his face.

Maybe he didn’t like having to get involved in the personal lives of his guests, maybe he was worried that this event would cost McKendrick’s the award or…maybe he was worried that she was still remembering last night’s kiss and would expect things of him now.

“Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen,” she whispered, but of course he didn’t hear her. He was already gone, and as usual he was alone.

The way he liked it, she reminded herself, remembering what Randy had told her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A WEEK had passed, and Alex had grown into her job so quickly that she was starting to feel as if she really belonged at McKendrick’s—something that was alarming, because she didn’t belong. McKendrick’s was too closely tied to Wyatt, a man who made her remember how it felt to be in his arms every time she saw him.

Just like a lot of other women had, she reminded herself. And a woman with her record certainly knew better than to travel that route. She wanted to help Wyatt’s hotel win. Because it was a wonderful place, because Wyatt wanted to win and because…well, because she just wanted to. But her involvement had to stop at the hotel.

So she did her best to focus on McKendrick’s, on the ballroom that was being renovated, on the reporters who had heard about the hotel’s finalist status and had come to take pictures twice already. The thing not to concentrate on was the fact that Wyatt hadn’t come near her since the day after their kiss. He’d clearly concluded her training and was on to other things. So she shouldn’t be thinking of the man at all, except…

She could still see Wyatt with that little boy. The loner who had told her that he wasn’t meant for marriage and children, who was clearly uncomfortable dealing with emotional people, had set aside his personal preferences to bond with and comfort a wounded child. If she thought about how she had felt watching Wyatt in that moment…Alex’s heart tipped crazily. Visions of all the leaps she’d made into doomed love slammed into her soul.

Don’t remember how you felt. Never let down your guard on your heart, she ordered herself. Just work.

She did. She drove herself. And when Wyatt sent around a memo that all employees were to take regular breaks and lunches, she took a five-minute break and a ten-minute lunch. A part of her knew that taking this job had been a huge mistake, but she had agreed to it. Now all she could think was that if she kept working the days would pass. Belinda would return, all this would end, and the worst that would have hap-pened would be that Alex had melted in Wyatt’s arms once. Surely she could survive that one mistake?

As long as she didn’t stop to think, she’d be fine. Because thinking led to recalling the sound of Wyatt’s voice. It led to reliving the sensation of Wyatt’s mouth on hers.

The kiss had been a mistake, as he had said, but it had felt too wonderful—and had made her want more.

“Grr,” she told herself.

At Randy’s questioning look, she automatically held up a piece of paper. “You wouldn’t believe some of the suggestions for the new name of the ballroom.”

“I could help you with that.”

She blinked. “Thank you. You’re a good guy, Randy.”

He blushed. Actually blushed. “Just doing my job.”

“Well, you do a great job. I may need help if we get too many more of these. For now I’ll let them sit. I have to map out a tour for the Airinson group. They’ll be here at two.” She glanced at the list she was making.

At that moment Randy’s phone rang. He picked it up. “Yes. No. She took a lunch break. How long? Well…”

He mumbled a few more things Alex didn’t catch, and when he hung up he gave Alex one brief, evasive look, then turned away.

Five minutes later Wyatt strode across the lobby with Jenna, who worked in the office, skip-stepping to keep up.

“Come on,” Wyatt said to Alex. “Time to get your basic nourishment. I don’t want you keeling over at your desk.”

“I had lunch.”

“I heard about your ten-minute lunch. And that you were interrupted by a phone call. Let’s go.”

He looked down at the overflowing contest basket and at the stacks of paper on her desk. The collection of cute little personal items and photos she kept there was almost obscured.

“Enforced downtime just arrived,” he told her. “Tell Jenna what’s a priority. Randy will back her up if she needs help.”

Since Randy was obviously the one who had ratted her out, Alex looked up at him. “You have a big mouth,” she told him.

“Don’t blame Randy. You can’t skip meals or work non-stop,” Wyatt told her, “and Randy had his orders.”

To her amazement Randy was looking guilty. “I know you were just trying to help,” she told him.

“You do a great job, but you work too hard.”

It was the nicest thing he had said to her. “You’re a sweetie, Randy,” she said.

He looked horrified. “Don’t tell.”

“It’s just between the four of us,” she promised. “Let me finish this tour map,” she told Wyatt. “The Airinsons are counting on me. Then I’ll eat.”

Wyatt gave her an exasperated look. “The Airinsons will find free tickets to a show in their room and an apology from me for pulling you off the job. Jenna will make a great map for them.”

“I promise I’ll do my best, Alex,” Jenna said.

“Okay. I’ll get the rest of my lunch.” Alex reached for a drawer.

“No need. I’m taking you out of here.” Wyatt’s jaw was rock-solid, his look grim. Something was wrong.

Alex stopped arguing and followed him.

He handed her into his black sports car and drove to an exclusive, out of the way restaurant. She looked at the prices on the menu and flinched.

“Thank you for taking me to lunch, but I—Why are you looking like a thundercloud?”

“This isn’t working.”

Her heart fell. “I told you the first day that I might not be the right person for the job.”

He glared at her. “You are the right person.”

“But you just said…”

“I didn’t think I would have to drag you from the clutches of an insane jerk. Nor did I think I would have to kidnap you to get you to take a break. Most people stop working at designated times to rev their engines and just get some fresh air. That’s why it’s called a break, Alexandra.”

Okay, now she saw the trouble. Wyatt took the hotel seriously. Everything about the hotel, including his employees’ welfare. “I don’t want you to worry about what happened the other day with that…that…”

“Gorilla,” Wyatt supplied.

“He wasn’t that big.”

“He was a lot bigger than you.” Oh, clearly this topic had been festering inside him.

“You could have simply come to me and forbade me from interfering in altercations between guests.”

He gave her a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. “You’re the woman who told me that you tend to be overzealous about helping people. You ignored my memos about breaks and lunches. You implied that you make decisions based on emotions.”

“I did not.”

“Didn’t you? Well, somehow I must have just gotten that impression. Oh, yes, now I remember how. Maybe because you squeezed yourself in between that boy and the man, so that you would take the pummeling if he decided to let his fists fly.”

“You would have done the same.”

“Maybe.” How ridiculous. Of course he would. The only thing that had saved that jerk of a man from a punch in the jaw had been the fact that Wyatt knew how to exercise self-control. Except when he was tasting a woman’s lips.

Alex frowned to herself, but Wyatt had moved on.

“It doesn’t matter if I would have, anyway. I’m taller, bigger and stronger than you. He could have hurt you.”

“But I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re pushing yourself and not getting away from your desk enough.”

Again Randy’s words about guilt nudged at her. “I don’t want you to feel guilty just because I forgot to take much of a lunch break today. I was getting to it.”

He gave a harsh bark of a laugh. “You,” he said, pointing a breadstick at her, “are a workaholic.”

She laughed and picked up her own breadstick. “You ought to know. You’re one, too.”

But he was still frowning. “Seriously, Alex. Cesar, who works the night desk, told me that you came downstairs the other day to help Lois out when things got busy, and then you slipped in two extra tour groups. After hours.”

“Work is how—” she began, and then stopped. How could she put this? Work is how I keep my mind off you? Or worse…

Reality struck. Work, helping people, was how she’d always tried to impress those she cared about, the way she’d tried to win their affection. The possibility that she was doing that now made her ill; it totally frightened her. Because Wyatt was the one man she’d never even stood a chance of winning. He’d told her so. Randy had told her that. Everyone had told her. And yet she couldn’t stop. With the awards, there was too much at stake. Reports of Champagne’s new improvements were coming in daily.

“What does this award mean to you?” she asked.

He frowned. “It doesn’t mean life or death,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I want you making yourself sick.”