With Love From Las Vegas

Where had his practical assistant gone? The old Missy had taken his orders without question. She’d never distracted him from working with her intoxicating perfume or her provocative curves.

“Is this what you’re planning on wearing tonight?” Frustration with her allure jolted the blunt question out of him.

“Yes.” Her curt reply told him she had not appreciated his tone. “Why?”

“It’s not exactly appropriate for a business meeting.”

Picking a fight with her was simple self-preservation. He needed her as annoyed with him as he was attracted to her. Otherwise, the door that separated his suite from her hotel room wouldn’t be much of an obstacle for him later.

“This is a cocktail party.” She inclined her head, her tone vibrating with restraint.

“And you’re my employee, not my date.”

Her eyes widened at his severe tone. “I’m aware of that.”

“Are you?”

“Of course.” She looked piqued that he’d even ask. “You don’t think I got the message loud and clear earlier?”

“What message?”

“That I’m not your type and this attraction between us has nowhere to go.”

“What makes you say that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, look at the women you date when you take the time for a social life. They’re all sophisticated, beautiful, wealthy, and half-starved to fit into all those gorgeous designer clothes.”

Yet not one of them stirred his blood the way Missy did.

“It’s okay,” she continued. “I’m not in your league. I never thought I was.” When he didn’t deny her claim, the corners of her lips wobbled before achieving a brave smile. “I never expected anything beyond last night.”

And that’s exactly how it should be. So, why did his mood sour at her admission?

“Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe when you were wandering around here in my shirt and nothing else this morning. Were you hoping I’d spend the day in bed with you? Our deal was for one night.”

Her eyes widened in dismay, but her clenched fists told Sebastian she wasn’t going to be cowed by his bad mood. “And one night is all you’re going to get.”

“All I’m going to get?” He leaned forward, feeling her sharp inhalation like a punch to his solar plexus. Her parted lips drove him mad with longing. He wanted to taste her again. Cherries and lemons. The memory of her kisses was carved into his brain. “The bet and the terms were your decision, not mine.”

“You went along with it happily enough,” she shot back.

Why were they fighting when all he wanted was to haul her tight against him and claim her mouth? “I didn’t think I was going to lose.”

“But you did.”

“And I honored my part of the bargain.”

Her eyes almost popped out of her head. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish on land. Her hands formed tight fists at her sides.

“Well, excuse me for forcing you to have sex with me.”

Seeing that she was completely exasperated with him, Sebastian pulled her phone out of his pocket and extended it. “You left this behind earlier.” She took the phone, but he didn’t let go. Fighting with her hadn’t eased his suffering. In fact, he wanted her more than ever. The urge to sweep her into his bedroom and find out what she was wearing under that black and white dress was close to driving him mad. “Someone named Tim called you.”

“Tim called?” Obviously that gave her hope that their relationship wasn’t over. Her lashes lowered to her cheeks but not fast enough for Sebastian to miss the delight shining in her eyes.

Annoyance growled like a cornered badger. “I suppose he wants you back.”

She reined in her emotions until nothing showed in her expression. “I doubt that. He broke up with me because he found his soul mate online.” She checked her phone’s display. “There’s no voice mail. I’ll bet he called because he wants his anime collection back.”

“Maybe he forgot to wish you a belated birthday.”

“Maybe.” Missy’s gaze sliced to Sebastian. “Did you listen to my messages? You did.” She speed dialed and put the phone to her ear. “And deleted one from Tim.”

He stared at her impassively.

She shook the cell phone at him. “Why?”

“You deserve better.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I can’t do better?”

Is that what she thought? From her downturned lips, Sebastian gathered that’s exactly what she believed. Foolish girl. She was better than a hundred Tims put together.

“Any man would be proud to call you his girlfriend.”

“Any man but you.” The slight lilt at the end of her statement made it sound more as if she asked a question.

Sebastian ignored the desire to assure her that he had not excluded himself. To tell her that would create possibilities, and he couldn’t do that to her. He needed an executive assistant—not a lover or a girlfriend.

“I’d like you to change,” he said.

“And I’d like world peace. Seems neither one of us is going to get what they want tonight.” A smile curved her lips, but her eyes resembled granite. “Excuse me. I’d better make sure everything’s perfect.”

Once again her cheeky attitude left him without a comeback. She slipped past him and headed toward the buffet table. He stared after her, the delectable sway of her hips turning his mouth into a sand trap. He remembered trailing his fingertips from her nape to the small of her back. She’d shivered. Her body’s reactions had been exquisite, delicate perfection.

With an impatient snort, Sebastian headed for the bar and ordered a scotch.

An hour later, he stood on the opposite side of the suite’s living room from Missy and made small talk with the president of their hydro division and his wife. His assistant hadn’t glanced his way once since walking away from their conversation. She’d drifted through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with everyone, laughing and charming each guest and acting as if Sebastian was no more to her than a piece of furniture.

Her snub battered his pride. He regretted inferring that he’d felt obligated to sleep with her last night, but she had to believe that nothing like that was going to happen again.

A cleared throat brought Sebastian back to his companions. He swiveled his head and found two pairs of curious eyes on him. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Owen Darby shot his wife a wry look. “I was just saying that I didn’t recognize Missy when I first saw her. She looks wonderful.”

“She did something different with her hair,” Sebastian said.

“And she got rid of her glasses,” Owen added.

“Her dress is fabulous,” Alicia Darby said. “She has terrific taste.”

Sebastian’s attention slid toward the source of his frustration. “Yes, I suppose she does.”

“I hear you’re going to be an uncle,” Alicia said. “Your mother is excited about the new addition to your family.”

Nathan’s wife, Emma, was pregnant. Sebastian smiled to cover his wince. His future niece or nephew wasn’t related to his mother by blood, but that didn’t stop her from being thrilled. Susan Case had been looking forward to grandchildren for a long time. She’d hidden her upset, but Sebastian had seen the shadow in his mom’s eyes each time Chandra had enacted her pregnancy dramas when he brought up the topic of divorce.

After two years, he’d ended his marriage almost as much for his mother’s sanity as for his own. He couldn’t put her through any more disappointment. She longed to be a grandmother. That’s why she was so excited about Nathan’s child. She would love it the way she’d loved Nathan when he came to live with them.

Sebastian pushed aside old bitterness. Resenting his mother for being a loving, generous person was wrong on so many levels. “She’s already setting up a nursery so she can babysit.”

Alicia gave a wistful sigh. “Do they know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Not yet.” Talking about the baby was no more comfortable for Sebastian than discussing Missy’s makeover. Every time his mother mentioned the things she was planning once the baby came, he calculated how old his own son or daughter would have been if Chandra had actually been pregnant when he married her as she’d claimed. Or if she’d gotten pregnant at any time during their two-year marriage. “I think my mother’s hoping for a girl. She complains all the time about how she missed out on the fun girly things by having all boys.”

“I know all about that,” Alicia said. “I have two boys of my own who love to hunt, fish, golf and do all the same things their father enjoys.” She smiled up at her husband to take the sting out of her words. “But they are my pride and joy. I just wish they’d get married and start giving me some granddaughters.”

Sebastian’s attention wandered in Missy’s direction once more. She’d cornered Lucas Smythe. From the expression on the old man’s face, Sebastian guessed Missy was feeding him the same improbable tale she’d told his mother. Why couldn’t she just do as he’d asked and leave the matter alone?

He excused himself from the Darbys, but was intercepted by the president of the chemical division. By the time he extricated himself from that conversation, Missy had disappeared. Nor did she return to the party. As the wait staff cleaned up and then left, he half hoped that with the guests gone she’d reappear and they could continue …

What? Fighting? Making love?

Sebastian tugged his tie askew with a growl.

Wearing her favorite pair of pajamas, with her hair scraped back into a ponytail and her black framed glasses perched on her nose, Missy stared at the door connecting to Sebastian’s suite and wondered if she could ignore her boss’s summons.

“Missy, open the door. I need to speak to you.”

With Sebastian, it was always about him. What about what she needed?

She kicked her legs free of the covers and stalked across the room. “What about?” She called through the door. He’d been a jerk all evening and she wasn’t exactly dressed to receive visitors.

“You left the party early. Are you all right?”

The steel in her spine bowed a little. “I’m fine. Just tired.” She rested her cheek against the door. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

She didn’t mean to make the remark flirtatious, yet a cascade of sparks trickled along her nerves.

“Please open the door.” Less demanding, more like a request.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in my pajamas.”

The silence on the other side of the door lasted so long Missy wondered if he’d left. Disappointment stormed her defenses. How was she supposed to act as if the night before meant nothing to her when she hung on his every word and look?

“Show me.”

At first she thought she’d misheard him. “What?”

“Show me.”

What was his game? “You don’t believe I’m dressed for bed?”

“I believe you. I’m just curious what you wear.”

She was hot and bothered before he uttered his last syllable. Damn him. She hadn’t done any flirting since high school. Her relationship with Tim had been straightforward and uneventful. He’d never given her heart palpitations or made her wet with a single glance.

Missy unbolted and threw open the door. “Here I am.”

Sebastian slouched, his shoulder against the wall. With his tie pulled off center and his dark hair falling forward to obscure his eyes, he looked as tired as she felt. Her caretaker gene kicked in. He had a full week ahead of him and should be in bed instead of standing outside her door. But she quashed the urge to tell him to go get some sleep. She was not his girlfriend or his mother.

“Somehow I knew you’d be wearing red.” His weary tone was at odds with the simmer in his gray eyes as he trailed his gaze from her chin to her toes. “Are those palm trees?”

“And surf boards. My brother brought them back from Hawaii.”

Despite the conservative nature of her sleepwear, Missy felt edgy and vulnerable. She had no doubts that if he touched her she was a goner. But why would he? Sebastian had emphasized that he was done with her. So, why was he standing at her door so late?

“Is there something else?” she prompted, eager for him to leave. Her muscles shivered with restrained impulses. The longer he stayed, the harder to resist the urge to grab his tie and haul him to her bed. “Because I’m really, really tired.”

Earlier, he’d been right when he’d accused her of wanting to spend the day with him. Four years of suppressed longing hadn’t been assuaged by a mere ten hours of lovemaking. In fact, the night with Sebastian had fueled her appetite for more.

“Missy—”

She cut him off. “Don’t you dare.” Something about the way he said her name spurred her to action. The urge to hit him came out of nowhere. Her fist connected with his chest.

“What the hell was that for?” His eyes flared to life, but he looked more surprised than angry.

“I don’t know.”

She’d sensed whatever he’d been about to say would persuade her to get naked. That couldn’t happen. One night with him was about fulfilling dozens upon dozens of erotic fantasies. A week would mean she’d fallen prey to the same unrealistic pipe dream that had gotten her heart broken in high school.

She didn’t fit into Sebastian’s world any more than she’d fit into Chip’s. Repeating the pattern would be idiotic. She liked to think she’d gotten wiser since age sixteen. This morning with Sebastian, she’d discovered how close she’d come to making the same mistake all over again.

He fingered the spot where she’d struck him. “I was going to compliment you on how well the cocktail party went. I couldn’t have pulled this week off without you.”

Confusion reigned. Is that really what he’d intended to say? If so, she’d just made a fool of herself again. If not …

No. She couldn’t think about the alternative. Sebastian had made his need for her clear. She was his assistant. That’s the only role he wanted her to play.

“Thank you.”

“What will it take for you to stay on? More money? A company car? An extra week of vacation? I’ll give you anything you want.”

She wanted him to make her feel like a desirable woman, not a valuable commodity because she was organized and detail oriented.

“Anything?” It intrigued her to see the uncompromising Sebastian offer her a blank check.

“Anything.” His low voice slid over her skin like warm silk. She recalled its effect on her the night before. He’d coaxed her to do things that even now roused goose bumps.

She kept her tone level so he wouldn’t see how he disturbed her. “Good thing Nathan’s in charge of acquisitions because you suck at negotiating.”

“Not usually, but something about you brings out the worst in me.”

“I never used to,” she complained softly.

“You also never used to come to work dressed like you were tonight, either.” Hard as iron, his eyes held hers. “What is it going to take to keep you on as my assistant?”

She pondered the long hours at her desk and the price she’d paid in her personal life. She’d made the decision to quit before she’d slept with Sebastian. Nothing had changed. In fact, moving on was more essential than ever.

“It’s no use. You might promise me the same thing won’t happen again, but I know it will. You just can’t help yourself.”

His eyebrows arched. “You think I can’t keep my hands off you?”

At his misunderstanding, her body flushed asphalt-in-August hot. “I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about your promise not to bother me evenings and weekends. You’d start regressing. I want to work for someone who understands that an employee’s off-hours are sacred.” She tossed her head. “In fact, someone already made me an offer. Someone who knows the value of a personal life.”

“Who?”

“Nothing’s finalized yet. But when it is, you’ll be the first to know.”

Donning a plum-colored dress, Missy slipped out of her hotel room at six-thirty to make sure she missed Sebastian. After yesterday, she needed a cup or two of coffee before she faced him.

Missy reached the ballroom where most of the summit meetings would take place. After checking on the food arrangements and making sure all the audiovisual equipment was working, she assured herself that Sebastian’s opening speech awaited him at the podium. Everything had to be perfect.

“I see my son has you burning the candle at both ends.” Brandon stood at the back of the room, dressed for a round of golf rather than a business meeting. “Have you given any more thought to my suggestion that you take over for Dean as director of communications? Max liked the idea and wants to discuss it with you after the summit.”

“I’m not sure I have the experience required,” Missy hedged, wondering if she should even be discussing a job change without talking to Sebastian first. The opportunity tempted her, but she’d be happier about it if the idea had come from Sebastian.

Working for a family business, regardless of size, offered challenges. As Sebastian’s executive assistant, Missy had often found herself trapped in the middle of a power play between her boss and the head of the company. Since Brandon had stepped down as CEO, her job had grown less complicated politically, but he still owned a large share of the company and of late had begun to insinuate himself back into the business with frequent visits to the office and happily offered opinions.

He’d escalated his interference by taking Lucas Smythe golfing yesterday. Not that Missy believed he’d come right out and tell Smythe not to sell his company to Case Consolidated Holdings. But involving himself by talking with Max about the communications director position was a pretty overt act. Was Sebastian right? Did his father want to be in charge once more?

Brandon dismissed her concerns with a wave. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve watched you these past four years. Your talents are wasted on my son.”

“I’m not sure Sebastian would agree.” But the truth was she had no idea if her boss appreciated her or just took her for granted.

“You let Max and me worry about Sebastian.” Brandon held the door so she could exit the ballroom. “You’d make an outstanding director of communications.”

Missy was flattered that someone had recognized her skills. She’d graduated two years ago with a degree in business and a minor in journalism. Her background made the position a dream job.

Too bad Sebastian liked her right where she was.

“I appreciate your faith in me,” she said as they strolled down the hallway that led to the hotel’s atrium and casino.

“You should have been promoted years ago. I know you’ll do a great job.”

And she would. Much better than the guy who’d held the position for the past three years. But staying at Case Consolidated Holdings meant seeing Sebastian all the time. How was she supposed to get over her feelings for him and move on in her personal life with daily reminders of how amazing they’d been together?

Missy lifted her hand to hide a yawn. Sleep had eluded her for a long time last night. Sebastian’s visit had left her keyed up and wide awake. Damn the man for being so aggravating and attractive. Her seesawing emotions were a source of utter frustration.

“Are you playing golf again this morning?”

“No. I thought I’d stick around and listen to Sebastian give the opening speech.”

Wincing in sympathy for her boss, Missy forced a bright smile. “It’s a good one. You’ll be impressed.”

“I’m sure it’s wonderful. Did you help him write it?”

“I offered a couple suggestions.” In fact, she’d created the first draft and Sebastian had revised it to suit his style.

“I’m sure you did.” Brandon put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Have fun with the ladies today.”

In addition to making sure the conference arrangements were hitch-free, she had the job of playing social director for the executives’ wives. Today’s schedule called for a sightseeing trip to the Hoover Dam. Then lunch followed by the Haunted Vegas tour.

Brandon winked. “Don’t let them get you into too much trouble.”

With that cryptic remark ringing in her ears, Missy watched Sebastian’s father head toward the casino. She had almost an hour before she was to meet the wives for breakfast. Yesterday she’d won another two thousand dollars. The windfall was burning a hole in her purse. A little gambling would go a long way toward distracting her from what had just happened with Sebastian.

Lucky at cards, unlucky at love.

Missy had become a walking, talking example of that idiom. Fetching a twenty from her wallet, she cruised the slot machines, looking for a likely candidate. The first machine swallowed her money like a party girl guzzling imported champagne. Thirty minutes later, she was down five hundred. Sighing over her change of luck, Missy checked her watch. She had fifteen minutes before she was supposed to meet the wives. Time enough to feed one last crisp twenty into a slot machine.

At the center of the casino, a couple dozen machines surrounded a bright-blue, convertible Ford Mustang. Picking one at random, Missy fed in her twenty. Four spins later, she had resigned herself to walking away when five gold coins lined up in a row and her machine began whooping like a pack of crazed football fans with their team poised to score the game-winning touchdown.

“You won a car.” Gloria Smythe stood next to her, wearing a big smile.

Missy had met her last night at the cocktail party and liked her immediately. The vivacious blonde was twenty years younger than her imposing husband and smiled as much as he frowned.

“I did?”

“Sure looks that way to me.”

And the way the bells were sounding and the lights pulsed with frantic enthusiasm, Missy was starting to agree. She’d just won a car. Why wasn’t she jumping up and down in delirious excitement?

Because nothing compared to the thrill she’d felt in Sebastian’s arms.

Missy shook herself out of her mooning. Pining over a man she couldn’t have was idiotic. “What do I do now?”

“I think that nice young man coming this way will have you fill out some paperwork.”

“I don’t have time.” Missy spotted a skinny guy with a shaved head in his twenties heading her way. “I’m supposed to meet everyone in ten minutes.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Gloria smiled.

“But the tour is scheduled to leave no later than nine, and I’m supposed to be on the bus to make sure all of you have a great time.”

“Don’t you worry about that. Fill out the paperwork and come find us in the restaurant over there. We’re sitting on the patio.”

Missy stared at Gloria’s back as she sauntered away. That wasn’t where they were supposed to meet. What was going on?

Thirty minutes later, with her paperwork done, Missy wound between the tables of the most expensive of the three restaurants open for breakfast. Bordered on two sides by French doors that offered access to the outside dining, the rattan furnishings, potted palms and soothing green and white color scheme gave the space a comfortable, relaxed feel.

Missy spotted two tables of women on the patio just as Gloria had said. The day promised to be in the upper seventies, but at eight in the morning, the cooler temperature required sweaters and light jackets. Missy shivered in her sleeveless dress.

All conversation ceased as a couple of the women spotted her. Heads turned in her direction.

“We heard you won a car!” Susan Case said. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Are you ready to go on the Hoover Dam tour?” Missy gazed at each of the women. A few wouldn’t meet her eyes. Most grinned at her. Three frowned.

“We’ve decided to pass,” said a woman with teased black hair and enormous sunglasses.

“In fact, we’re not going to do any of the tours,” Alicia Darby added. “But don’t let us stop you from going.”

Missy shook her head. “I don’t understand. A lot of planning went into your itinerary.”

“And we appreciate it,” Gloria said. “But for most of us, our lives are busy and hectic.”

Alicia nodded. “The last thing we want to do is go on vacation and have to do a bunch of sightseeing.”