Читать книгу What Happens In Vegas...: His Wedding-Night Wager - Katherine Garbera - Страница 7

Long legs, expensive silk hose and the kind of hips that he could sink his fingers into. She had it all. She always had. Hayden still couldn’t believe Shelby Anne Paxton was here in his kingdom. He’d never thought to see her again.

Her calves were well formed, tapering down to trim ankles and a pair of stilettos that sent his libido into overdrive.

The Chimera Hotel and Casino was his life. The 24/7 world of Vegas had always been his home. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the success of the hotel and casino. He’d sacrificed to make it into one of the premier destinations on the Vegas Strip. And he owed it all to this woman who hadn’t believed in him and to his father.

Hayden had made the Chimera the number-one casino in Vegas to prove that their lack of faith wasn’t an obstacle in getting what he wanted from life.

His entire operation was first-class, right down to the hotel’s own shopping wing, which housed only sophisticated retailers. Always expanding and changing, it was about to add Bêcheur d’Or, a high-end lingerie boutique.

Bêcheur d’Or was on the fast track to the top. It’s owners, Paige Williams and Shelby, had been profiled in Entrepreneur magazine earlier this year. Apparently Shelby had made more of his money than he’d ever expected her to.

But it had been Paige with whom he’d spoken to cinch the deal, and Paige with whom he’d met to sign the contract. Funny that Shelby had shown up here and now, especially considering he’d never expected her back in Vegas after she’d left him standing at the altar.

A long, low wolf whistle jolted Hayden back to the present and the hallway outside the newest merchandise location at the Chimera. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

Hayden turned to see the tall, lean, dark-haired form of his best friend stroll up. Pain tightened in his gut. He didn’t want even Deacon Prescott to know who this woman was. He’d simply referred to her as the gold digger that one time he’d gotten drunk and talked to Deacon about his marriage.

Hayden glanced at Deacon and fought the surge of possessiveness swamping him. “You’re a married man.”

“Definitely. But that doesn’t mean I’m dead. Besides, Kylie knows I’d never stray.”

Deacon and Kylie had been married for almost two years now and things were going well. They were the exception to Hayden’s golden rule that marriage was a business deal.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Hayden said more to himself than to Deacon. Deacon had found something that Hayden would never admit he’d once wanted. His friend had found forever love and happiness. As for Hayden…well, he’d learned his lesson long ago.

Still, Hayden didn’t begrudge his friend. Deacon had come a long way from the man Hayden had first met several years ago. A long way from the mob enforcer who’d wanted to go straight, longing for a better life that he didn’t know how to find. Now Deacon owned the Golden Dream, a very successful resort and casino that was second only to the Chimera in terms of success.

Deacon had also found love and seemed to buy into the whole illusion of it since his marriage. Hayden knew better then to try it himself.

He wished the ending for his own story had been as happy, but reality had a way of making sure the scales were kept firmly balanced. And to Hayden’s way of thinking, if you grew up with every luxury money could buy but a father who couldn’t seem to love you, then something had to give. For Hayden it had always been the softer things.

“Are you going to go inside or just stand in the doorway?” Deacon asked.

Normally he’d walk on by, but not today. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“And that would be when?” Deacon asked.

“When you get the hell out of here.”

“You didn’t leave me alone when I went after Kylie.”

“Hey, we had a bet. I had to keep tabs on you,” Hayden said. He’d bet Deacon that Kylie wouldn’t marry him. It was one of the few times that Hayden had lost when he’d gambled, but he hadn’t minded the loss.

“Want to make another wager?” Deacon asked. “Only this time—”

“I’m not looking for Ms. Right like you were.”

“Why aren’t you, Mac?” Deacon asked. His friend always called him by that nickname. It was a holdover from when they’d first met and Deacon had needled Hayden about being the “Mac Daddy.” The big guy with lots of cash.

“You know I already tried marriage and didn’t find it to my liking,” he said, playing off the incident as if it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience, instead of a life-defining moment.

“But you didn’t make it to the finish line, so to speak,” Deacon said.

“I got close enough,” Hayden said. No woman was ever again going to get him to stand in front of a church full of his friends and family and wait for her. There were few feelings he could recall as clearly as the humiliation and anger that had simmered in his gut as he’d faced all of his guests and told them that the bride wasn’t coming.

Was it getting closer to forty that was catching up with him or was it Deacon’s happy union?

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work with another woman. This one looks fine.”

“Deacon, stop staring at her ass or I’m going to send the surveillance video to Kylie.”

Deacon put his hands up and backed away. “I thought you might want a little of the good life.”

“I think I’ve already got it.”

“Yeah, well, if you change your mind, I’m here and I’ve got good advice.”

“On what?”

“Romance.”

“I don’t need advice from you, Prescott.”

Deacon flipped him the finger and walked away. Hayden leaned against the wall opposite the glass storefront, continuing to watch the lady unpack her boxes. Damn it had been a long time since any woman had gotten to him like this. Why did it have to be Shelby?

He couldn’t stand outside her shop forever, so he pushed away from the wall and entered.

She straightened and her auburn hair fell in waves down the middle of her back. She had a phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she pulled items from the open box.

“I haven’t seen him yet. I’ll check in on Friday like we planned. Please don’t call me again.”

She disconnected the call, turned on her heel and froze. Her jaw dropped and he knew she’d spotted him. Her face went pale as she reached behind her and braced one hand on the countertop, on top of her cell phone.

He walked through the room with a long, easy stride that he strove to keep nonchalant. He schooled his features and forced himself to treat her the way he’d treat any other businessperson who’d leased space from him. He wasn’t a first-rate gambler for nothing. He knew how to bluff with the best and how to keep his emotions under wraps.

But he couldn’t resist slipping his hand deep into his left pocket and rubbing the top of his left thigh where he had a tiny tattoo of a medieval knight’s fist wrapped around a bleeding heart. It was his constant reminder that he no longer allowed his emotions to be a part of his sexual relationships.

It took a lot of guts for Shelby to come back to Vegas after what she’d done. It took the kind of gall of someone who had nothing left to lose. And she’d not only come back to his home turf but taken up residence in his kingdom.

She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But she’d changed. Before, she’d been kind of wild—more untamed. The kind of woman who’d made his dad crazy because she was obviously eye candy.

God, he’d been an ass when he was younger. He hoped like hell that Shelby hadn’t been aware of that part of him. But he suspected she must’ve been. Otherwise why would she have taken the million dollars his dad offered and left him?

“What are you doing here?” he asked silkily.

“I own this place,” she said.

God, her voice was still soft and sweet. Everything he remembered about her was the same. She still looked twenty-two. It wasn’t fair that time had been so kind to her. He’d be able to handle this reunion a lot better if she’d gained weight, had gray hair, something like that.

“I meant in Vegas,” he said, leaning in closer and putting his hands on either side of her, caging her between his body and the counter. Ten years had passed, but right now it felt as if she’d just left him. That had been more than enough time to get rid of any lingering anger, but seeing her again had brought it all to the fore. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

He’d never forgotten Shelby’s voice. The way it sounded when she was happy. The way it deepened when she came in his arms. Or the way she’d sounded on the phone during that hurried conversation when she’d explained that she had to leave.

“I’m working,” she said now.

“I remember a girl who used to say she’d never work a day in her life.”

“I changed my mind. Money has a way of running out.”

“Even the cool million you took from my dad?” he asked.

But when he saw the color leave her face and watched her pupils dilate, he didn’t have the rush of adrenaline that he’d thought he’d feel. Instead he felt big and mean, like the bully his father had always been.

“Of course it did,” she said. But inside, a part of her was aching. It had been easy to forget the implications of what she’d done while she’d lived on the East Coast. Distance had provided a kind of barrier for her.

Shelby Anne Paxton stared at the man she’d almost married for his money. She’d been looking for a rich boy to marry and Hayden had been looking for a nice-looking girl to annoy his dad. She couldn’t explain it even now, but there’d been a connection between the two of them that she’d always thought went deeper than his money and her looks.

He’d changed in the last ten years but not nearly enough. He still had a thick head of dark hair that curled rakishly over one eye. He had bright blue eyes that had always been able to see past her defenses, and thick lips that made her remember how they’d felt on hers.

Damn, where had that come from?

“Did you know this was my hotel?” he asked.

“Yes, I did,” she said softly. There was no way she was going to tell him that his father had flown to Atlanta and suggested she bid for this location. Suggested was really too nice a term for what he’d done. Alan MacKenzie had practically blackmailed her into coming back here. He’d threatened to leak the information about her gold-digging past to several magazines. Bêcheur d’Or was gaining an international reputation for class, and the last thing she needed was negative exposure. But Alan had also dangled a carrot—he’d offered her anything she wanted, within reason, if she agreed. Shelby knew he expected her to ask for money.

Yes, Alan had pushed her to come back, and she had. But now that she was here, she wasn’t sure she should have listened to him. The problem was, she still had an obsession with Hayden. He was the man she thought of late at night when she was alone.

“Then why are you here?”

“Um…” She couldn’t tell him the truth. Would he believe a part of it—that she needed some closure and to pay him back for what he’d unknowingly given her by asking her to marry him? If he hadn’t done that, Alan would never have paid her the money she’d needed to get started in business. Her exclusive line of boutiques turned a huge profit and were considered a value-added chain to many luxury resorts around the world. All of that was thanks to this man.

“I’m waiting, Shelby. Tell me why you’re here. Are you hoping to strike it rich again in Vegas?”

In ways he’d never understand.

He stood before her, seething with anger. But she couldn’t explain why she was back. Or that she couldn’t stay away once Alan had approached her.

She’d forgotten about the anger. Maybe because of the way she’d left. Their last meeting had been a joyous one. The night before their wedding. She swallowed hard. She’d forgotten about her own emotions and how hard they could be to deal with.

“When you say it like that—”

“You sound like the gold digger you are,” he finished for her.

“Not anymore, Hayden. I’m here because it’s a smart business move.” She’d left him at the altar. Called him from the airport with his father’s check in her hand. How was he ever going to forgive that?

“Nice touch with the boutique name,” he said after a few moments had passed.

A brief smile played at her lips. Naming the shop with the French word for “gold digger” had been her idea. After all, she’d always been unflinchingly honest when it came to what she was. She’d grown up too poor to pretend that money meant nothing to her. “At the time it seemed kind of tongue in cheek,” she explained. “I mean, you know how I started out.”

“With nothing,” he said. She realized some of the anger had faded from his eyes and he was looking at her with something akin to lust.

Passion had never been the problem between them. She’d always been the biggest obstacle in their relationship. Only after a few years of therapy was she able to see that they probably wouldn’t have lasted together even if she hadn’t taken the payoff his father had offered. Hayden had been more interested in having the most attractive woman on his arm, and she’d been too interested in having financial security. Their relationship had been very shallow.

“And now you have this,” he said.

His aftershave hadn’t changed in all the years they’d been apart. Still a spicy, masculine scent that she knew he had custom blended in France.

“What do you want from me, Hayden?” she asked when she realized he was staring down at her.

He lifted one of his hands and stroked down the side of her face. His touch was gentle. She stood still, fighting the urge to close her eyes and lean into that hand. Hayden had always been so gentle with her.

Something few other men ever had been.

He’d wanted a wife and she’d left him to deal with their friends. She’d always felt guilty about that. She doubted that Hayden wanted her back in his life. Though now that they were face to face, she was beginning to realize that was something she wanted.

“The wedding night we never had.”

“Sex?”

He nodded.

Shocked, she didn’t know what to say. The same sensual spell he’d always cast around her surrounded her now. She felt the force of his will and his desire. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, leaning toward him before she realized what she was doing.

In Alan’s words she was supposed to bring some closure to Hayden and get him ready to find a nice girl and settle down. Now that he was feeling his age, Alan wanted grandkids and for his son to be happy. But Shelby knew Alan didn’t have her in mind.

She scooted away from Hayden but he reached out for her again. The years fell away and she was suddenly that trailer-park girl wanting the golden boy once again. And there was a part of her who still wanted that man.

Since leaving Hayden she’d had two other relationships—both with wealthy men—but things had never really heated up. Her fault. She was the first to admit she didn’t trust her passionate side. Because the one time she had, she’d lost her heart.

“Are you really looking for sex?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Yeah.”

“Is this only a revenge thing?” she asked. Because she realized she wanted to say yes. She’d like nothing better than to go to bed with Hayden, even with all the years and anger between them.

“I’m not sure.”

“Thanks for not lying.” But then Hayden never had. From the beginning he’d said he was the spoiled son of a wealthy man. He’d been kind of immature in those days but so had she. Hayden had also seemed like a knight in shining armor. Shelby had known that eventually he’d wake up and realize he’d made a mistake in marrying her.

“I’ll save that for you.”

This was more what she expected. She wrapped her arms around her waist and backed farther away from him. She bumped into one of the packing crates and almost lost her balance.

Hayden grabbed her arm and held her until she was steady on her feet. She swallowed hard and tried not to flinch from his touch. But there was nothing harsh in his touch. Just a gentle hold.

“Okay?” he asked in that low, raspy voice of his that never failed to send shivers down her spine.

“Yes. Thanks.”

They said nothing for a few minutes. Shelby tried to marshal her thoughts. Tried to find her balance in a world that was suddenly out of whack. She glanced around her boutique, her gaze falling on the poster advertising Puccini’s Madame Butterfly at the Met. Slowly she let the familiar world she’d created soothe her troubled soul.

She took a deep breath and stepped away from Hayden. As tempting as it was to fall into bed with the one man who’d made her feel really feminine, really alive, she knew she couldn’t. She’d changed from the girl she was. No MacKenzie man was ever again going to make her feel embarrassed about who she’d been.

She’d been afraid of being like her mom and in the end that was exactly what she’d become. Someone who traded on her looks for money…for security. But she was a different woman now. She made her own way in the world. She was Hayden’s equal in every way that mattered.

“We can’t be together if you treat me, like…well, like I suppose you have a right to. I’m really not into that kind of pain.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Shelby. I never wanted that.”

She believed him. Despite his seemingly shallow playboy attitude back then, he’d always treated her like a lady. She couldn’t really explain it to anyone who hadn’t grown up the way she had, but when your mother dressed like a tramp and you had a rotating stable of “uncles” in and out of your life, people treated you like trash. But Hayden never had.

“It’s been ten years, Hayden. Why do we both still feel like this?” she asked, realizing that Alan had done her a huge favor by sending her back here.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

She tipped her head to the side and acknowledged that despite the years she’d never really forgotten him. “I came back because of you.”

He tipped his head to the side, not saying a word, just watching her with that electric gaze of his.

She spoke again. “I can’t…move on until I figure out what went wrong between us.”

“Hell, Shelby, that’s an easy one.”

“Please, don’t say it again. I wish I had the money to pay your dad back so that it wouldn’t be an issue between us.”

He narrowed his eyes and walked toward her. “So what do you say to some sort of compromise? You give me what I paid for.”

“What your father paid for,” she said.

“I paid for it in ways you can never understand.”

But she did and it made her ache to realize it.

“A night of sex? I don’t think I’m worth a million dollars.”

“What about a week?” he asked.

“Sex and money. They were my mom’s downfall. I— I couldn’t do that. If we’re going to try this again, I want it to be a real relationship.”

He nodded. She saw understanding in his eyes and she realized that if she was going to find any kind of peace with him, it was going to be through bonds of friendship. She wasn’t sure she could risk her emotions with him. He’d made her feel so vulnerable. And she didn’t want to be that woman again.

“Have dinner with me, Shel. Let’s figure this thing out.”

“I…”

“It’s just a meal.”

“I have a lot of work to do here and a short time to do it. I need to hire staff, finish unpacking.” The words sounded like an excuse to her and she knew they were. It was just that even though she’d planned to come back to resolve the past, now that the moment was at hand, she was afraid.

But her running days were over. And at the end of the day, Hayden MacKenzie was still just a man.

Yeah, right.

Hayden entered his office in the casino nearly an hour later. Kathy, his assistant, was gone for the day. The small desk lamp glowed at her workstation. She always left it on for him because she knew he kept late hours. There were two messages from his dad, and one from the star of his European-style revue, Roxy O’Malley.

He dialed the backstage number for the revue venue and got the director. “Roxy called me.”

“She’s onstage right now. Want me to have her call you back?”

“I’ll stop by after the show. Let her know.”

“I will.”

“Any problems?”

“A few guys were hanging around after the first show but security took care of them.”

“Keep me posted.”

He hung up the phone, leaning back in his chair. His office had windows on two sides that showed the Strip out of one, and the Chimera’s hotel building out of the other. One wall held a bank of security monitors and Hayden crossed to them.

He took the access remote and keyed in Shelby’s store. The lights were on but the place was empty. Had she run? But then he saw her. Standing in the shadows staring at something in her hands that he couldn’t make out.

He reached for his phone and dialed her shop. He saw her move from the shadows to the counter near the register and pick up the phone.

“Bêcheur d’Or.”

“It’s me.”

“Hayden.”

Just his name softly whispered. He saw her hand go to her throat and her eyes close. What was he doing?

“Are you okay?” he asked at long last. No matter what he wanted from her, no matter that he intended to find some closure from their relationship whatever the price to her, he really didn’t want to hurt Shelby.

She put her hand on the counter and straightened up. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“I’m watching you.”

“How?” she asked, pivoting to see if he was standing nearby.

“On video surveillance.”

“I’d forgotten that part of Vegas. So, am I on closed circuit?”

“Why?”

“No reason. I just want to know who’s watching.”

He hit a switch and turned off access to her shop at every other monitor except his. “Just me.”

“Why are you watching me?” she asked. Wrapping one arm around herself, she looked small, vulnerable. Not a bit like the schemer his dad had called her.

“I was debating something.”

“What?”

“What would happen if I took what I want from you,” he said.

“What is it you want, Hayden?”

“I thought I told you. Revenge.”

He saw her bow her head. Even though he was several floors above her and in a different wing of the hotel, he felt the sadness that swamped her at his words. “I want to give you that.”

He was surprised. “Masochism your new thing?”

“No, but reparation is.”

“Shelby—”

“Don’t say anything else, Hayden. Let’s have dinner and talk terms.”