When they were finished, Chase suggested they start getting ready for dinner and politely left her alone to change. She hurried with her hair and makeup, and shrugged into one of the half dozen cocktail dresses she’d brought along, knowing Chase would need time in the bedroom and bathroom to get ready himself.
Stepping into the sitting area, she found Chase standing at the bank of tall windows, staring out at the bright lights and bustling activity that made up the heart of Sin City. Though the thick, lush carpeting absorbed the sound of her footsteps, he seemed to sense her presence and turned as she rounded the end of the floral-patterned sofa.
His eyes softened when he saw her, and a gentle smile curved his lips as he skimmed her appearance, from the upswept knot of hair that left her neck and shoulders visible, to the strapless royal blue dress with its lace overlay that hugged her every curve and left her legs seductively bare. She shifted slightly and toyed with the sapphire pendant at her throat, uncomfortable with his thorough perusal.
He strode forward, taking his time and keeping his gaze firmly locked with her own.
“Nice,” he murmured as he passed, careful to leave just enough space between their bodies that her skin prickled in awareness, but they never actually touched.
“I won’t be long,” he added before disappearing into the bedroom and closing the connecting door behind him.
Dinner, Elena was relieved to admit, passed much more enjoyably and with a lot less stress than expected. Chase had introduced her to his business associates by name, with no further explanation, rather than referring to her as his girlfriend or mistress or some other label she’d been concerned he might use. And though she’d made small talk with the other women at the table, she mostly remained silent and allowed Chase to conduct his business.
He even asked her to dance at one point, and held her close while the orchestra played a slow, romantic song. After a couple glasses of wine and the lulling atmosphere seeping into her bones, she let herself lean against the strong wall of his chest and absorb the heat of his fingers where they rested at the small of her back.
She hadn’t forgotten their agreement or her reason for being here—both to help her father and become Chase’s lover—but since the outcome of her decision was inevitable, she started to relax and live for the moment rather than obsess over what might come next.
They said goodnight to the others and made their way through the lobby to the bank of elevators, their footsteps slow, her arm wrapped around his and their hips brushing.
“You were great tonight,” Chase said as they stepped into the empty elevator car. “Finklestein and Rogers loved you. And I think their wives were glad to have another woman at the table. My unattached state usually causes them to spend the entire meal going through a list of single young ladies they think might suit me.”
Elena offered a small smile, but didn’t reply.
“Bringing you along was definitely one of my better ideas.”
When the elevator stopped at their floor, he led her to the suite, opened the door with his keycard and waved her inside ahead of him.
They’d left a lamp on at the far side of the room, so the suite was bathed in pale yellow light. The closed curtains kept the neon sparkle of The Strip from intruding.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Elena turned to find Chase standing near the entrance to the kitchenette, but shook her head. “I already had too much wine with dinner. Any more and I’ll probably pass out and sleep for a week.”
“We can’t have that,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.
Moving closer, he stroked the pads of his fingers down her bare arm, raising goose bumps all along her skin. His gaze held hers and she swallowed hard to keep from shivering.
When he reached her wrist, he unhooked her gold and diamond watch, setting it aside on the kitchenette counter. From the next wrist, he loosened her dangle bracelet, then slipped the rings off her fingers, adding them to the growing pile. Next came her earrings and necklace, until she stood free of accessories.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
To her great embarrassment, the only reply she could manage when she opened her mouth was a strangled sort of sound. Chase grinned, his blue eyes turning storm gray and twinkling devilishly.
His hands lifted to her hair and slowly, one by one, he removed the pins holding the long locks in place. When he was finished, he drove his fingers into the twisted strands and combed them down to hang to her waist. A second later, she felt him tugging at the zipper of her dress, and then the fabric slipped from her body.
She didn’t fight it, didn’t grab for the garment before it hit the floor. She simply stood there and let him strip her down to her bra and panties, garter belt, stockings and high heeled shoes.
He took a small step back, just a millimeter to allow him to look his fill. “Lovely.”
“They were my sister’s idea.” The words popped out without conscious thought and she was rewarded for her senseless muttering by his warm, lopsided smile.
“What was?”
“The garter and stockings. She told me they were sexier than pantyhose, and that you’d appreciate the difference.”
His grin widened and turned even more wicked, his gaze locked on the lace edging at the tops of her thighs and the thin straps holding them up. “Your sister was right. Remind me to send her a thank-you note when we get back. And maybe a box of chocolates or some flowers.”
Elena nodded absently, her insides going both weak and hot at the same time.
With one hand on her hip, the other trailing up and down the length of her arm, Chase leaned in and blew on the shell of her ear.
“Tell me, Elena,” he whispered, sending shockwaves through her system, “will you come to bed with me? Now? Tonight?”
Her eyes drifted closed, the lids too heavy to keep open. Her blood felt like syrup slogging slowly through her veins.
If she’d known he was going to have this effect on her, she probably wouldn’t have come. He was too handsome, too charming and obviously had too much power over her. The power to make her weak in the knees and cloud her senses. The power to make her not only willing to sleep with a man she barely knew, but be on the verge of begging for his touch.
He had to know she was putty in his hands, had to know she was his for the taking. And yet he’d asked permission to make love to her, and was still waiting for her answer.
As much as she’d agonized over her decision to come here with him, the decision to go through with sharing his bed was easy. She wanted him, and regardless of his reasons for wanting her, there was only one response she could give.
Her lashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her closely, his expression intense and strained.
“Yes,” she said finally.
She felt the tension seep from his body, saw the lines in his face vanish. Then, before she could form another thought, he scooped her into his arms, his long strides eating up the distance to the bedroom.
Once inside, he laid her gently on the made bed, then stepped back to divest himself of clothing. Raising up on her elbows, she watched him kick off his shoes, undo his cuff links, shed his jacket, tie, shirt and slacks. He came back to her in all his naked glory, so magnificent he made her mouth go dry.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he opened a drawer in the nightstand and removed a box of condoms, setting them on one of the pillows in easy reach. And then he turned his attention back to her, undivided, focused. The need swirling in her belly began to build and spread outward.
He traced the line of pale flesh above the scalloped cup of her black bra, never taking his eyes