What Happens In Vegas...: His Wedding-Night Wager

Four

Shelby’s day passed too quickly. She had no idea what to do for Hayden. But she wasn’t giving up. She hadn’t come from a trailer park to where she was by being easily swayed from her goal. She wracked her brain as she worked, trying to think of a date that Hayden wouldn’t expect but would love.

It was harder than she expected. Why couldn’t Hayden be like other men? The men she’d dated since she’d left him at the altar all those years ago. A man who was…not important to her, she realized.

Despite the fact that Alan was responsible for her being in Vegas at this time, she wanted Hayden for herself. She wanted him with her for the rest of her life. The thought scared her because it made every action she took more important.

And though she hated to do it, she called Alan for some suggestions. The fact of the matter was, Alan knew Hayden better than she did. Shelby vowed that would change. Alan gave her the number to the marina on Lake Mead where Hayden kept his yacht and said he’d call in the morning for an update.

Shelby made a mental note to turn her cell phone off before Alan called. She longed for a time when she could be with Hayden and just be herself. The first time she’d been too young and too afraid he’d see what she really was. Where she’d really come from.

Ultimately that had led to her leaving him. This time…well, this time she was balancing between keeping him from finding out that Alan had sent her here and just falling for him.

She thought it was telling that Hayden hadn’t mentioned his yacht. She wondered if she’d stumbled on to a private thing he liked to keep secret. From running her business she knew how demanding a career like Hayden’s could be. Was the yacht his escape valve? His one place where no one could find him?

She hated the out-of-control feeling. But she couldn’t figure out how to be herself and keep Hayden. It wasn’t that she didn’t think she deserved a man like him. It was just that being back in Vegas reminded her sharply of the girl she’d been. And that girl had too many insecurities.

The phone rang and she finished fastening the leather bustier to the headless mannequin before going to answer it. The scarlet garment had a matching thong and was one of Bêcheur d’Or’s top sellers.

“I approve of the outfit,” Hayden said, his voice low and husky. She smiled to herself.

“Voyeur. I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt.”

“So I like to watch. That’s not a sin.”

But his voice sounded like one, a carnal sin. This morning he’d been low-key, a man biding his time, but not any longer. Shelby felt restless inside and knew that Hayden had to feel it, too.

She ran her hands down the sides of her thighs. She’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt in one of the dressing rooms earlier. Unpacking boxes was sweaty, dirty work. But she liked seeing the store come together.

“Would you bend over a little and run your hands down your backside?” he asked.

“Is that what you want?” she asked, surprised at how easily his voice and words got to her.

“Baby, you know it is.”

She knew that she was playing a dangerous game with Hayden. On a sexual level she’d never been adventurous, never taken any risks. Ha, who was she kidding, she didn’t take any risks with her life.

But now, in Vegas this time, she scarcely knew herself anymore but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to be his fantasy. Leaning forward, she ran her hands down the back of her legs, then tossed her hair and glanced around to where she thought the camera was located.

“How’s that?” she asked, deliberately dropping her voice an octave.

He groaned. “Perfect. Now go slip into that leather number and do exactly the same thing.”

The phone was cordless so she moved over to the mannequin and picked up the red leather bustier from the open box. “Have you ever worn leather undergarments?”

He laughed. “No.”

“You’d have to make it worth my while,” she said, fingering the supple cloth. In truth she liked wearing leather. It made her feel extremely sexy.

“Uncomfortable?”

“Not really, but they don’t hide any imperfections.”

“What imperfections?” he asked in such a way that she knew he didn’t think she had any.

She shrugged. She knew she had them. She spent the majority of her time sitting in an office working. Though she tried to make it to the gym, most days she didn’t.

Her thighs were soft, and no matter how many sit-ups or ab crunches she did, she’d always have a slight swell of a belly. Still, she was happy in her body, it was who she was. She just didn’t like to see herself in bright light. Didn’t like letting anyone see her looking anything but perfect.

“Don’t make me say it out loud,” she said carefully. Looks had always been important. Her mother had drilled that into her through Shelby’s childhood. “Looks are all a woman has when she’s poor,” Terri Paxton would say. But Shelby had found that brains were better than looks.

“Okay, I won’t. Did you make plans for us tonight?” he asked.

Yes, but she was playing her cards close to her chest on this one. “I’m still trying to come up with something you’ll like.”

He was quiet for a long minute and she could hear only the sound of his exhalation over the open line. “I like being with you, Shel. I always have.”

She hugged one arm around her waist and tried not to let the words settle around her heart but they did. She felt a welling of emotion that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “You know the right things to say to make a woman buy leather undergarments.”

He laughed again and she smiled to herself, pushing aside the deep feelings his comment had evoked. She had to keep her balance here.

“That was my plan,” he said.

“I don’t know you well enough,” she replied slowly.

“I’ll show you. Want to spend the night in the casino?”

“I’m not a big gambler. I like to have something to show for my money after I’ve spent it.”

“Like what?”

“Shoes,” she said.

“Shoes? An evening in the casino is better than shoes.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, maybe one thing is better than shoes.”

“Sex?”

“With you,” she said, hanging up the phone. She winked at the camera and put the bustier and matching thong in a gold Bêcheur d’Or’s gift bag and placed it on the counter next to her purse.

Hayden spent the day making arrangements for the World Champion Celebrity Poker Showdown. The televised competition would air next month and the producer and her two production assistants were in Vegas for twenty-four hours to get the layout.

Scott Rivers was one of the best poker players in the world and had been a child star of movies and a television show that had run for fifteen years. He’d grown up on TV and Scott liked to say everyone thought they knew him.

But few did. Even after all this time, Hayden still suspected there was a part of Scott that was kept hidden. Growing up in the spotlight had made Scott something of a chameleon. In fact, Hayden had never seen his friend in a situation that he wasn’t at home in.

Scott was one of the few people who’d seen him at his lowest. And that had forged a relationship in which both men felt comfortable with each other. Scott was one of his closest friends and Hayden was glad he would be visiting soon. Also, talking with the television people was a distraction. Seeing Shelby this morning, flirting with her on the phone and watching her like some lust-crazed man…well, it wasn’t conducive to work.

His cell phone rang as he entered his private elevator. “MacKenzie.”

“Hey, Mac Daddy. You up for poker tonight?” Deacon asked.

“Can’t. Maybe next month when Scott is here.”

“Next month? How about tomorrow night?”

“I’m busy.”

“With whom?”

“Why do you suddenly need something to do in the evenings?”

“Ah, let’s just say that it’s better if Kylie thinks I’m busy.”

“Lying to your wife?”

“No. What are you doing? Dating that redhead in the lingerie store?”

Hayden wished sometimes that he and Deacon weren’t such close friends, but the truth of the matter was, Deacon was one of the few people Hayden allowed himself to care about. “Maybe.”

“Great. Bring her over. We can all have dinner.”

“Can’t. We have plans.”

“Please?”

“What does Kylie have you doing tonight?”

“Dinner with the Vegas Preservation League. A bunch of wealthy do-gooders.”

Hayden felt for his friend. Deacon had grown up on the Vegas streets being looked down on by the very people Kylie had invited into his home. “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“Page me at eight-thirty.”

Hayden laughed. He knew Deacon might want to leave but wouldn’t. He wanted to be with his wife. He was besotted with the woman and wouldn’t leave her side in spite of the VPL.

“Later, Deac.”

“Later.”

Hayden rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped off the elevator. God, he hoped he was never so wrapped up in a woman that he was willing to sit through something like that dinner.

Shelby was waiting for him by his penthouse door.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He dropped his hands, walking toward her. “I am now.”

He leaned down to claim the kiss he’d been craving all day. She stood on tiptoe, leaning into his body. He cradled her to him, cupping her face in both hands and angling her head for deeper penetration.

His entire body tightened in anticipation. God, he wanted her. This wasn’t a lust thing that could be satisfied with any other woman. He craved her taste on his tongue. Her soft skin under his hands. Her soft curvy body against his muscular frame.

He whispered her name against her skin, skimming his mouth down the line of her neck and nibbling on the pulse beating so strongly at the base. She said his name in a throaty voice.

He bit her gently and she arched closer to him. He licked the spot and then suckled her there. He wanted to brand her as his. To make sure that any other man who saw her knew she was taken. That she already had a man.

She sighed, tunneling her hands into his hair and pulling back from him.

He raised both eyebrows at her. “Please say we’re staying in.”

“Not quite,” she said. Her face was flushed and her lips were wet and swollen. She looked as if he’d done so much more than kiss her. He skimmed his gaze down her neck and was pleased to see the mark of his possession there.

“I figured out something for us to do, but I couldn’t catch you before you left your office.”

She wore a pair of khaki-colored capri pants and a black tank top. Her hair was twisted up and tendrils curled softly around her face. Her eyes were wide and questioning. Clearly she was unsure if she’d made the right choice.

“Great. What’d you decide? Do you want to take me to a private gentleman’s club?”

“Has any woman ever suggested such a thing?” she asked in that haughty way of hers. This was part of the new Shelby. The old Shelby was very pliable. She’d done whatever he said and never stood up to him. But this new woman had a backbone and too much sass.

“I’ve seen it happen in movies,” he said with a grin. She made him happy deep inside where he’d been alone for too long.

“What kind of movies?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Come to think of it, not the kind of movie you’d watch.”

“Sex movies?”

“Uh, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into his home.

Her deal with Alan had some pluses to it. Shelby had made arrangements to have Hayden’s yacht readied for them. Lake Mead was located just east of Vegas and Shelby had gotten driving directions from the bell stand earlier before going to get Hayden.

Shelby felt a little bit of dread at the thought of someday having to reveal to Hayden that his father was once again behind the scenes manipulating things. She made the decision right then to stop talking to Alan. She wanted to learn about Hayden on her own, not through his father’s scrutiny.

She shook off those fears for tonight. The sun was setting and a warm breeze blew through the open windows of her SUV. Hayden had a slight smile on his face.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Baby, I’ve lived here my entire life. I’m not going to be easily fooled.”

“I’m prepared for that.” She’d spent most of her childhood in Vegas and there was still so much she didn’t know about her hometown. Of course, she’d frequented places that Hayden would never have gone to. Places that were saved for the poor and addicted.

“How?” he asked.

She shook off the feelings evoked by her childhood memories and focused instead on Hayden. Focused on the fact that after all this time she was determined to make a relationship work with the man she’d promised herself she’d marry.

She signaled and pulled off the interstate onto the shoulder. The interstate was busy with traffic and she was pleased that Hayden looked a little unsure. She rarely got the upper hand with him.

“This is it?” he asked, glancing at the guardrail and the expanse of desert stretching out toward the mountains. “What could we be doing here?”

To keep from smiling she bit the inside of her mouth as she took the black silk mask from her purse and held it up.

He fingered the silk and when his eyes met hers she saw the heat in them. And shivered. She had the impression that Hayden thought this was the prelude to some exciting sexual adventure.

“Kinky sex on the side of the road. How’d you guess?”

Before she could caution him, he ran the tip of one finger down the side of her neck, his thumb rubbing on the mark he’d left earlier.

“Got anything else in your bag, like a pair of satin lined handcuffs?”

“Maybe. How do you feel about being tied up?” she asked, leaning forward to slip the mask on him.

His pupils dilated, he cupped the back of her head and held her close to him. His minty breath brushed against her. “I’d rather tie you up.”

She knew that. He was the kind of man who’d have to be in charge. Her lips were suddenly dry and she licked them.

He leaned forward and traced the line she’d just left with his tongue. Arousal whipped through her body. Her breasts felt full, her nipples tight, and she was so aware that all she had to do was lean forward the tiniest bit and her breasts would brush his chest.

She was shocked at how quickly he’d turned the tables on her. She was the one blindfolding him but she sensed he held all the power. He held her in his thrall and she was helpless.

She bit his lower lip, sucking it into her mouth for a brief second before pushing back into her seat.

“I’m just teasing you. This mask is all I want you to put on for now.”

“Ah, baby, if I do this, you’re going to owe me.”

“Really? What will I owe you?” she asked.

“A dance.”

“A dance?”

“Yeah, a nice sexy dance with you in that red leather outfit. Deal?”

She tipped her head to the side to study him, but his words and that sexy tone of voice made her want to do it. “Deal.”

He took the black silk mask that she’d brought from Bêcheur d’Or. He slipped it on and leaned back in the leather seat.

The Lincoln Navigator was the same model that Shelby drove at home in Atlanta, so she was very comfortable behind the wheel. Her cell phone rang before she could pull back onto the highway. She glanced at the caller display. It was Paige, and for the first time since she and Paige had opened Bêcheur d’Or, she hesitated, not wanting to think about business tonight.

“I have to get this. Sit tight.”

“My pleasure.”

She answered it. “Hey, Paige. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just touching base to get your take on how the D.C. conference call went this morning.”

“I thought it went well. Can I phone you tomorrow to discuss it?”

“Why?”

“I’m kind of on a date.”

“A date? With Hayden?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, call me in the morning. I want details, and I don’t mean about D.C.”

She smiled to herself. “Will do.”

She hung up the phone and shifted the car into gear.

“Who was that?”

“My partner, Paige. You met her, right?”

“Yes. I like her. You chose well, Shelby.”

“Thanks,” she said.

He reached over and settled his hand high on her thigh. His fingers traced a random pattern that made her center tighten. She wanted him more than she’d wanted any other man.

“Give me a hint,” Hayden said once they were moving again.

“About what?” she asked.

His fingers moved, slipping between her legs and coming teasingly close to her core. She tightened her legs to prevent him from moving any higher.

“Stop, Hayden.”

“No. Every time you tease me, I’ll reciprocate.”

“It’s something you like to do.”

She shifted her thighs apart, and his touch retreated but not far enough. She was so aware of his hand on her inner thigh she could hardly concentrate on driving.

“Is gambling involved?”

“No,” she said, reaching down with one hand to capture his wrist and move his hand back to the top of her thigh.

“Pretty confident of your answer,” he said, turning his hand under hers and lacing their fingers together.

“Yes, plus your sense of fair play.”

He leaned his head back. “Don’t count on that, Shelby. I’m not always a nice guy. There’s a reason I’m a gambler.”

“You are so much more than a gambler, Hayden. Don’t doubt that.”

“Don’t let me hurt you, Shel. I’m trying here, but to be honest I don’t know how to hold on to something I want.”

“Do you want me?” she asked, aware that he wasn’t acting at all vulnerable with the mask on.

“Yes, I do.”

Her hands shook and she was incredibly grateful that he wore the mask so he couldn’t see how deeply his words affected her.

“Then let’s make sure we don’t hurt each other again.”

Five

The soothing scent of the water was the first thing he noticed. Shelby had insisted that he keep the mask on and led him through the parking lot. He felt the wooden planks under his feet and stopped.

How had she known? This was one of his most closely guarded secrets.

“We’re at the lake,” he said, wondering how she knew about his recent obsession with boating. Not even his assistant knew about the boat he kept at Lake Mead. It was the one thing he’d kept to himself, kept for himself and shared with no one. But Shelby knew about it.

She paused next to him. “Are you surprised?”

“Yes. How did you know about this?”

“I can’t reveal my source. But it took a lot of time and energy to figure this out.”

He pushed the mask up and off, pocketing it for later. He was touched she’d dug deep enough to find this out. “Did you rent a boat?”

“Uh, my source said you had one.”

“I do. Follow me.”

He noticed she held a picnic basket loosely in her left hand and that large leather bag she called a purse was slung over her shoulder.

He led her to the Lady Luck, his thirty-foot yacht. She smiled as she read the name. “Has luck been a lady?”

“More times than not. I always treat her right,” he said.

“You do have a way with the ladies.”

He helped her on board. Her words echoed in his mind. His way with women had served him well. There had never been a lady he’d wanted that he hadn’t been able to date. But the women never stayed. What did that say about his way?

The only constant in his life was the Chimera. He’d spent his life betting on the roll of the dice or taking risks, but that meant that life was constantly changing.

He piloted them out of the marina toward the middle of the lake. The evening was nice and warm and a breeze stirred the short hair at the back of his neck. He glanced over at Shelby, still amazed that she’d taken the time to really find something that he liked to do this evening.

It hadn’t been a test for her. But if it had, she’d have passed. That scared him because there was so much he’d forgotten about Shelby. She made the world brighter and more exciting. Even when they were younger, it had been the same. She made him want to take bigger risks—and that was dangerous.

“Ever piloted a boat before?” he asked her. He needed her in his arms, closer to him.

“No. One time Paige and I catered a party for some suppliers that was on the lake.”

“Tell me about your business. To be honest, I was surprised when I realized you owned such a successful chain of lingerie stores.”

She bit her lower lip. He glimpsed a hint of sadness in her eyes before she turned away.

He scanned the area in front of them. No other sailors. He reached for her, pulling her around to face him. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. You just never seemed interested in anything like that when I knew you.”

“I know. I was only interested in you and having fun.”

“I think it’s safe to say we both shared those interests.”

She hugged her arms around her waist and stared up at him. “When I left with the money…I thought all my problems were solved. I couldn’t believe I had a million dollars. You can’t understand this, Hayden, but I never imagined I would see that much money. It felt almost unreal.”

“Just because I’ve always had money doesn’t mean I can’t understand that. What’d you do with the money?”

“I went on a shopping spree. Then about two days later I realized that everything I’d purchased would be gone eventually and I’d be back in the same boat and…”

He stopped the engine on the boat and dropped anchor. He couldn’t concentrate on Shelby and the boat simultaneously.

“What?”

“I couldn’t do that again, Hayden. Whatever else you believe about me, please know that leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

He traced her jawline with his finger, realizing that in some ways, this strong independent woman was worlds too soft for him. Too innocent. Despite the fact that she’d left him, he knew that he and his father were to blame. When he’d started dating her to get at his father, he’d put her right in the middle of the power struggle they’d always engaged in.

“I know,” he said softly. “Tell me how you started your store.”

“Well, first I decided to go to college. Since I wasn’t going to be using my looks to make money, I figured I’d better use my brains.”

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“I know that now. But I was only twenty-two. You know, at the time I thought I was very mature. I mean, I knew things about life that other people didn’t. But there was still so much I didn’t know.”

Hayden nodded, realized what she was talking about. He, too, had felt he knew it all as a young man, and in retrospect he realized how little knowledge of life he’d really had.

She walked to the railing, glancing out at the deepening twilight. “I met Paige in college and we were both working in a chain lingerie store at the mall. We had this idea that kind of grew from that. Something more exclusive, more high end. Paige said we needed a French-sounding name because the French know everything about sex.”

Hayden laughed at that. Shelby did, too. “Paige is crazy sometimes with the things she says, but she was right. Since we’d both come into our money in unorthodox ways, I suggested calling the shop Bêcheur d’Or. Most consumers recognize the French word for gold and it gave us our brand. Those little gold bags set us apart from other shops, and the rest is history.”