guests of the Archangel walk through the interior gardens in wonder and awe.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Why not? If it makes me happy, makes me satisfied that my work brings pleasure to others, what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. It’s just that the holidays are a time for family. For being together. For celebrating.”
The banked embarrassment flared to life once more before it shifted—transformed, really—into whip-quick anger. Evangeline tugged her hand from his, taking a step back in determined self-preservation. “Not everyone celebrates. And not everyone has a family. More to the point, not everyone wants one.”
“You don’t want a family?”
“Of course I do. At some point.” And she did. It was her fondest wish, something she wrapped close to her heart each night as she lay down to sleep. Her lack of one haunted her as she worked the property, watching couples walk arm in arm or families laugh as they traversed the Archangel.
She did want a family.
But the very last thing she wanted was to discuss that here, now, with a rich Greek god who practically owned Vegas.
“You don’t seem in any hurry to make one.” The words shot back before a small corner of her brain—the one not short-circuited out by the impressive presence of Rafael Stavros—warned her not to talk to her boss that way. But it was too late.
“I have a family. A large, loud one who is up in my business each and every day, pressing me on that very question.” He leaned forward, a predatory smile painting his lips in a wolfish grin. “Are you sure they haven’t hired you?”
Lingering anger and loneliness and that weird heat that suffused every single nerve ending each time she got within ten feet of Rafe flared to life once more. She remained still, even as the urge to reach out and brush her fingers over the lush lips that still quirked in that naughty grin had her fisting her hands, one on her clutch and the other by her side. “No.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“It’s no secret you’re one of the city’s most eligible bachelor playboys.”
“A dubious honor at best.”
“You wear it well. You and your brother.”
“So you watch out for Gabe’s love life, too?”
With the evidence her words had been twisted once more, Evangeline stilled.
Stop talking. Immediately.
The order echoed over and over in her mind, at direct odds with what wanted to spill from her lips. Questions. Observations. And that continuing wonder at what secret he hid over the man who’d burned to a crisp on Archangel grounds.
Rafe reached out and dragged the tip of his finger over her cheek. “It’s okay if you do, you know. It’s nice knowing someone is watching out for me. Caring.”
“I don’t care.”
His eyebrows shot up before a slow, lazy haze seemed to mist over that enigmatic gray gaze. “Of course you don’t.”
The pad of his finger drifted from her cheek down to her jaw, painting a line over the delicate bone before moving on down to her neck. His large hand settled at the base of her neck, the tips of his fingers curling around her nape before he drew her close.
“What are you doing?” The question fell from her lips, a breathless whisper that sounded like it came from someone else. Someone sexier. Someone used to this sort of blatant seduction.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
“Then let me show you instead.”
Rafe’s mouth pressed to hers, an insistent brush of lips that worked a magic all its own. Firm and persistent, in moments he had her mouth open, his tongue delving inside to explore secrets she didn’t even know she possessed.
But somehow he knew.
He seemed to know everything as his lips and teeth and tongue wove masterfully over her mouth, drawing a response that was both tentative and strong, timid and powerful all at once.
She wanted him.
It seemed like such a simple notion, steeped in the increasingly urgent needs of her body and the attentions of the man opposite her.
But for her, it was a novel thought, unexpected and deeply, crazily potent.
“Rafe!”
The heavy, baritone shout seemed to come from outside herself, an abstract thought that took shape and dimension as Rafe lifted his mouth from hers.
“What is it?” His words were clipped, with a gravelly edge that seemed to match the thickness that filled her own throat as Evangeline came back to herself.
Oh, no!
Her first thought was to cover herself, the power of Rafe’s kiss surely branded all over her exposed skin in the revealing dress. That thought was quickly followed by another. Gabe was standing there, his focus fully on Rafe as if he barely even saw her.
“We have an appointment this evening. I believe we discussed it earlier? You mentioned wanting to take part in the meeting.”
Something loud—even though it was completely unspoken—arced between the brothers and Evangeline came fully back to the moment. Embarrassment at being caught kissing Rafe in the lobby vanished as she attempted to decipher what neither was saying, even as their silence spoke volumes.
Rafe spoke first, his gaze flicking to hers before returning to his brother. “I’ll be ready to leave shortly.”
“I’ll meet you in the security center.”
Gabe marched off as fast as he’d arrived and she had the distinct impression he’d left an uncomfortable Rafe in his wake.
“I’m sorry to end our evening early.”
“It is nearly midnight.” She stilled, their earlier exchanges over the burning man at odds with the liquid desire that still muddled her veins like a thick, delicious milk shake. “An odd time for a meeting.”
“The casino business never closes.”
“So true.” She glanced around the atrium, currently filled with a holiday theme she’d spent endless days developing and refining. “Sort of like the flower business. We do what we must, when we must.”
With that, she took a step back. The desire to follow him and his brother was strong, but the unceasing eyes that followed everything happening in the hotel would no doubt capture her if she attempted it.
So she’d retreat. Review what she’d learned. And reassemble her arguments tomorrow.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.” She ran a hand over the skirt of her dress. “A lovely day, as well.”
With that, Evangeline turned on her heel and left him standing in the midst of her flowers. The urge to look back was strong, but she kept moving forward.
And wondered how she was going to uncover the secrets he hid.
The large black SUV rumbled, silent as a wraith, through one of Las Vegas’s poorest neighborhoods. Apartment houses had the look of the abandoned or the damned, and the few souls who loitered in front suggested both. Rafe fought an inward shudder at the evidence of such poverty and despair. He wasn’t immune to the plight of those who lived mere blocks from the Archangel and they had several programs in place to ensure they didn’t further contribute to such problems.
But none of that stilled the inherent frustration that such horrible conditions existed next to the opulence and refinement of the Strip.
“Strange place, our hometown.”