Fearless. Tawny Weber
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fallen for her disguise. It was as if he’d flipped the switch. Suddenly, she wasn’t Gia with all the hang-ups and self-doubts. She was Giavanna, or Vanna, as the Girlz had dubbed her. Sexy, confident and ready for the wildest sexual adventure of her life.
Unfrozen now, her feet guided her to the bar.
Now to find her fantasy partner.
Her room was upstairs, in easy luring distance.
She’d bought every sex toy or teasing temptation she could think of.
She’d been waxed, polished and buffed to her body’s all-time best.
And now she’d passed the incognito test.
So this was it.
She was ready to make her weekend fantasy into a deliciously wicked reality.
All she needed was Luke.
Vegas was man-land on steroids.
Booze, babes and buffets. It didn’t get much better than this.
Beer in hand, Luke Monroe looked around The Bank, the hottest nightspot in the Bellagio. It was like a modern playground for the wild and horny. He was used to good-looking women, but here they had a sexy edge that screamed kinky good times with none of that “morning-after respect” drama.
“Dude, it’s like my dreams in Technicolor,” Matt Jones said as he sidled up to the bar, giving Luke a punch to the shoulder. “I don’t know what I want to do more. Hit the dance floor, find a babe and snag one of those VIP booths or head back to the craps table so I can win enough to pay for something immoral and illegal in a few states.”
“You know what I like about you? You don’t let that ugly face of yours get in the way of your sex life.” Luke grinned.
“Hey, I work hard to look this good. I owe it to the ladies to share what I’ve got going on, ya know.” Matt rubbed one finger over his carefully trimmed goatee, his teeth flashing against his dark skin. “Unlike you, who does jack but still has women throwing themselves in your path.”
Luke shrugged. Women had been throwing themselves at him since they were little girls wearing pigtails and he was more interested in collecting Pokémon cards than females. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his luck with the ladies, but he wouldn’t mind having to prove himself and work for the attention once in a while. The male ego was a funny thing. Too much success and it started whispering sneaky things about luck, riding on a rep and unworthiness.
“You ready for the show tomorrow? Nervous about schmoozing with a hundred thousand or so people?”
“Nah. Tri-Solutions has a good product. It’s easy to talk up.” So easy he was getting bored. Which was why he was considering the offer from Kettlemens. Luke could handle a lot of things, but boredom wasn’t one of them.
“You take that job with Kettlemens and you’ll be traveling for a living.” Matt tossed back the last of his Jack and Coke, then shook his head in admiration. “Traveling across the country setting up digital systems in all their branches, training their trainers. That’d be the life.”
Hotel beds, jet lag and no time to spend his big fat raise.
Damn. Luke winced. What was wrong with him?
He had a sweet life.
He knew guys like Matt looked at him and figured he had it all. He was flying up the ladder to success three or four rungs at a time. He drove a BMW, owned a condo in the Presidio and, yeah, there was the luck with the ladies.
It was all easy.
Maybe too easy.
He was bored. Bored with his job, bored with himself. Hell, he was even bored with his sex life.
He didn’t want to leave Tri-Solutions or San Francisco. But the Kettlemens offer was looking better and better, if only for something different to do.
“Oh, baby.”
Ditching the downer thinking at Matt’s growl, Luke looked over his shoulder to see what the guy was staring at.
And damn near dropped his beer.
Oh, baby, indeed.
Now, there was something different.
She was gorgeous.
Long hair in a shade of red too vivid to be real slicked over her shoulders to bracket a glittering mini dress that barely concealed her ample curves. Legs so long they could wrap around his shoulders were sleek and slender, all the way down to a pair of red do-me heels that made him finally understand the whole deal with foot fetishes. Despite her sexy look, she didn’t have a hooker vibe. There was something sweet about her, like an angel dressed in devil’s duds. Luke ripped his gaze from her shoes, taking his time sliding back up over those gorgeous curves. He finally reached her face. It was just as enticing as the rest of the package.
Their eyes met.
He felt a zing that shot across the twenty feet separating them, through his body and straight south.
“So hot,” Matt murmured in appreciation.
“Smoking,” he agreed.
“And it looks like she’s got her sights set on you, friend.”
Since her eyes were roaming his body as though she’d like to strip it naked and see what he was made of, Luke didn’t bother denying the obvious.
He’d much rather help her accomplish that particular goal.
“You’re on your own,” he told his friend, starting to shift through the crowd toward the sexy redhead.
“Reel her in,” Matt called with a laugh, no doubt in his tone that Luke would do just that.
“Consider it done.”
It wasn’t ego talking. It was determination.
As if sensing his resolve, people cleared the path between Luke and the redhead without him having to nudge anyone out of his way. In less than ten seconds, he was close enough to see that her eyes were brown, her necklace was an infinity symbol and her lipstick had sparkles in it.
“Hello,” he greeted, surprised to see how delicate and petite she was close up. From across the room, she’d seemed larger-than-life. Like a beacon shining bright in the night sky, drawing him closer, pulling him in.
“Hi,” she returned, her voice a husky purr easily heard even over the loud club noise.
“I’m Luke.”
“Gi—Um, Vanna,” she offered, her words almost a stutter. She wrinkled her nose like a cute bunny, then shrugged and tried again. “I’m Vanna. Nice to meet you.”
“Do you come here often?”
Her big brown eyes rounded in surprise before she gave an uninhibited snort of laughter.
“Do you use lines like that often?” she returned.
“Hey, sometimes the classics are best,” he said with a grin.
“What other classics are you partial to?” she asked, sipping her martini.
“I’d try ‘Haven’t we met before?’ since there’s something hauntingly familiar about you, but if we’d met, I’m sure I’d remember.”
He wasn’t sure what caused the alarm in her eyes, but whatever it was quickly passed. So quick he thought maybe he’d imagined it.
“I’d hate to think I was forgettable,” she shot back, her smile teasing. “Or that that particular line actually works for you.”
Actually, lines were used on him a lot more often than he tossed them out. But he didn’t think his telling her that and sounding like a cocky ass was going to make the impression he was hoping for.
“Vanna, you’re a lot of things.