round of cocktails set aside—which maybe wasn’t such a bad thing considering the kind of detours his head had been taking—as he shrugged out of his suit jacket, giving in to the absurdly out-of-place bit of possessive insanity going nuts thinking about anyone else seeing this heart-shaped perfection.
“Here, put this on,” he said, slipping it over her shoulders.
“I can’t believe it!” she gasped. “I never win. I never, ever, ever get lucky like this.”
Connor grinned, watching as the bare length of her arms disappeared within the sea of his coat. Reaching over, he adjusted the lapels, telling himself she’d looked cold. Then before he gave in to the temptation to linger near that tantalizing V of feminine flesh, or God forbid let his knuckles skim the softness there, he moved on to cuff her sleeves. Rolling up the arms until the slim band of her wristwatch shone beneath the flashing lights of her winning machine. It was a delicate band, but a little plain. The way he’d mistakenly thought about her, when really this girl glittered like a diamond.
“Carter,” she said breathlessly, those blue eyes watching where his thumb stroked across the sensitive pale skin of her inner wrist.
“Connor.” What the hell was he doing?
Her eyes lifted slowly, following the line of his arm, across his shoulder, to the top of his tie and then his mouth.
Did she have any idea how seductive those few beats of time were when he could all but see her mind working through the possibilities of where her gaze lingered.
This woman was hot. And sweet. And smart. And funny.
And she was staring at his mouth like it looked better than vanilla vodka and white-chocolate liqueur.
Like maybe, after all, she might want a taste.
Or even more.
Another beat and her eyes met his.
“Connor,” she corrected, the good judgment wrestling in those blue pools, barely holding out against temptation.
Damn, he liked the way she said his name. Especially when she got it right.
He had an excellent idea for helping her remember too.
Repetition. And positive reinforcement—the breathless, moaning, pleading kind.
Hours of it.
He could push—turn on the seduction and he’d have her.
This flirtation he’d been playing at was nothing. For every easy compliment, he’d kept a physical space between them. For every suggestive line, he’d avoided eye contact. Because he’d known—had a sense about what could be between them, and he’d steered clear of it. Only, now...he wanted more.
Shaking his head, he glared at the half-empty glass on the counter beside them. Your fault.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he put the arm’s length back between them, the easy smile. The just-for-fun.
Moments later they were outside in the night air, surrounded by the bright lights, the drifting foot traffic and steady stream of cars. “You just cracked two machines in a row. We ought to head back to the casino and find you a real jackpot. Or would you like to try something different, like roulette?”
A deep sigh left her pretty mouth. “I don’t think so. For someone who doesn’t win very often, I’m happy to be coming out ahead the way I am. I don’t want to push my luck.”
“Something else in mind?” he asked. But he already knew, having seen the flash of resignation in her eyes.
Goodbye.
He didn’t want the night to end, but she had a plan, after all. He respected her for it. Admired the sense of priority, forethought and commitment she’d put into it. Hell, that plan was probably half her appeal.
“I’ve had a really good time tonight.” Megan shifted in front of him, her gaze skating away as her fingers slid down the lapels of his suit jacket, to where they idly played with the top button.
“Me too. Of course, this is Vegas. It’s still early.”
Her eyes pulled back to his, flickering only once to his mouth. “Early morning.”
And then her shoulders were straightening, her features falling into an altogether too-polite expression. “And I’ve got a big day ahead of me.”
“Big day of attending.”
“Yes. And making up elaborate lies about our night together.” This time her grin was pure imp. “Give Jodie and Tina something juicier to chew on than each other.”
“Wow, you’re going to lie about me?” he asked, settling his hand at the small of her back as they approached the curb in search of a cab. “I’m flattered.”
Nothing available, but one would come along any minute.
Megan shot him a wry smile. “Actually, probably not. I want to. It would be so great. But lying gives me hives. Even for a good cause like keeping the peace at my cousin’s wedding, I’m not sure I’d be able to do it.”
“So you’re one of those perpetually honest types?” he asked as they walked in the direction of the casino where they were staying.
“Pretty much. Not always convenient. But I guess it keeps me out of trouble most times.”
Uh-huh, but if she didn’t stop worrying that sexy bottom lip between her teeth—nothing would keep her out of the trouble he had in mind.
Only, then she noticed the way he was watching her, and looked away.
He didn’t want to lose her attention. Not yet. “With women like Tina and Jodie, I’m thinking not saying anything at all would be as effective as telling them what a stallion I am—which, incidentally, is one hundred percent accurate. Leave them to stew in their curiosity. Speculate to their hearts’ content. And give them nothing.”
“Oooh, it’ll drive them insane,” she gasped, nearly bouncing beside him and making him wonder how deep her wicked streak went. And if it ever blurred the line into naughty. “God knows their imaginations are more colorful than mine.”
Giving in to another smirk, he offered, “I could help with that.”
He was joking. Mostly.
Megan stopped and shook her head, the straight ends of her hair brushing softly across her shoulders. “I’m sure you could.”
Even beneath the lights and glitz of the Strip, he could see the rise of a deep blush in her cheeks, read all the subtle signs of hesitation as they came. He could see her talking herself out of every maybe, what-if, just-a-few-more and only-this-once idea popping into her pretty head. He could feel the tension as she wrestled with her conscience about extending a night they’d both enjoyed.
He knew she wanted to... “But you have a plan.”
Honest. Intelligent. Funny. Independent. Megan was all that and more, with the kind of practical approach to love he couldn’t get out of his head. Eyes to the sky, he pushed out a long breath—that stopped abruptly when his focus caught on the neon sign flashing over her right shoulder.
She had a plan...but maybe it wasn’t the only one.
* * *
God, she didn’t want the night to end. But there was only one place it could go. And as much as the idea of falling into this man’s bed appealed to her, it wasn’t how she lived her life.
It didn’t matter that he seemed more soul mate than stranger. Or that she’d never be in a position to let go like this again. If she gave in, she’d regret it tomorrow.
And when she thought about this night, she didn’t want there to be any regrets.
So she swallowed and did what she had to do. “I have a plan.”
The words