Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas. Michelle Betham

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Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas - Michelle  Betham


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for the small but significant hit it gave me.

      He leant forward, resting his elbows on his slightly open knees. ‘So, shall we start getting to know one another?’

      All those nerves had gone now. In fact, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in a long time. ‘You look like a bit of a bad boy to me.’ Possibly too relaxed, because I wasn’t entirely sure I’d meant to say that out loud. But he did have that aura about him; the way he looked, the way he dressed. Even the way he spoke.

      He laughed quietly. ‘I think “boy” might be pushing it a bit, darlin’, but… Does that put you off?’

      Quite the opposite, actually, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. And at almost forty years old I should probably be past the whole “bad boy” thing but, hey, I’d lived with a good guy for way too long. Was it so wrong to fancy a change? ‘Would it matter if it did?’

      He narrowed those beautiful dark eyes of his as he looked straight at me. ‘My name’s Eddie Fletcher, I’m forty-seven years old and I own a motorcycle shop in downtown Las Vegas. I live not far from the Strip in a place called Rancho Oakey, own two Harleys, ride regularly, hang out at biker bars and my MC clubhouse. I like beer and Mexican food, and can’t stand jazz music. And lastly, I’m still hanging around this hotel, instead of just going home, because I was hoping to see you.’

      I blinked a few times, trying to take it all in; where I was, everything that was happening. But none of it was easy. I still felt as though I’d suddenly stepped into some kind of weird and unfamiliar parallel world that I wasn’t altogether sure I should be a part of.

      ‘You don’t have to tell me anything about yourself,’ Eddie went on, his voice shaking me back to the here and now. ‘But, you know, I’d quite like to find out a little bit more about you.’

      I stared down at my beer, closing my eyes for a second before I looked back up at him, fixing a smile on my face. ‘Let’s just say I’ve left a lot behind, and I’m starting again.’

      He looked at me – right at me – for a few, long seconds. Long enough for my heart to start knocking out a fast and heavy rhythm, pounding away inside me like some pulsating drum. If I’d been standing up I might well have felt faint, but as I was sitting down I just felt a little light-headed.

      ‘There really is something about you, Lana…’ The smile he gave me seemed to send a wave of calm washing over me. Like I’d just had a shot of something warm and relaxing, and I found my confidence returning.

      Putting my beer down on the table in front of us I curled my legs up underneath me, resting my elbow on the arm of the couch as I looked at him. ‘You live here in Vegas?’

      He nodded. ‘Have done for over fifteen years now.’

      That explained the slight hint of US twang in his accent. I hadn’t really noticed it earlier today, but tonight it was coming through a little more.

      ‘Came over for a bikers’ convention, and I never went home.’

      He didn’t seem in a hurry to offer up any more information, and I wasn’t going to push it. I’d hardly been forthcoming with mine.

      ‘You said something, this morning, about fate,’ I said, staring straight at him. ‘Do you really believe in all that?’

      He shrugged, taking another drink. ‘You obviously don’t.’

      ‘We’re not talking about me. And I told you, I’m cynical.’

      His eyes were still locked with mine and for a few seconds nobody said anything. But it didn’t feel like one of those awkward silences, and that was weird, in a way, given how long we’d known each other. Which was all of five minutes.

      ‘Maybe fate’s the wrong word,’ he said quietly. ‘Coincidence… is that a better one?’

      My eyes refused to leave his, which was fine because, in all honesty, I could have sat staring at him all night. ‘So, were you really gonna hang around the hotel tonight on the offchance you’d bump into me again?’

      ‘I told you, that’s exactly what I was planning to do.’

      ‘Okay, well, you’ve found me, so… what else did you have planned?’

      He laughed quietly, his eyes dipping briefly before meeting mine again. ‘I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, darlin’, if I’m being honest. But, you know, a few drinks, a club, then… maybe, back to my place…’

      I broke the stare, those final few words killing the moment. ‘I’d better go.’ I swung my legs down from the couch, grabbing my bag as I stood up.

      ‘Lana, wait! Please. Just, wait.’

       Oh, God, why did he have to say my name like that? Why?

      I turned around, standing completely still as he walked over to me.

      ‘I’m sorry. That was really…’ He bowed his head, running a hand along the back of his neck before he raised his gaze. ‘It was inappropriate. But you… you’re… Jesus, Lana, you’re hot, you know?’

      I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. ‘Thanks.’

      He laughed, the mood suddenly lightening. ‘Come on.’ He took hold of my hand, and my fingers automatically curled around his, clinging on tightly as he led the way out of the bar, beating a steady pace to the elevator, his long legs taking the kind of strides my slightly shorter ones weren’t capable of in the dress and boots I was wearing. ‘I know a great club not far from here.’ He stopped for a second, smiling that smile again, his hand still holding tightly onto mine. ‘You’re gonna like this place. I promise.’

      It was a bit early to be making me any kind of promises, but his eyes – I trusted him, I really did. As much as you could trust anyone you’d known for less than an hour, anyway.

      Neither of us said anything else until we were back in the elevator, winging our way down to the ground floor.

      ‘I’m gonna give you the night of your life, Lana Saunders.’ He winked at me before slipping on a pair of dark glasses, his hand still holding mine. And it was a nice feeling, holding his hand, his thumb running gently over my knuckles. ‘I won’t hurt you, I promise,’ he said quietly, a slow, sexy smirk spreading across his roughly handsome face. ‘Not unless you want me to.’

      I couldn’t stop a full-on smile from appearing. ‘I’ll get back to you on that one, okay?’

      ‘Okay.’ He squeezed my hand, and I felt the most insane sensation shoot through me. I had no idea what it was, or where it had come from, but it both scared and excited me. ‘Let’s play it by ear, huh?’

      I was happy to go with that. I’d come this far…

      He squeezed my hand again, pulling me closer to him, and I felt a tiny shiver run through me as my hip nudged his. I’m not saying sparks were flying or anything like that, but I definitely felt that hint of a shiver, and my fingers curled tighter around his, almost as if I really did believe this was nothing but a dream and if I let go of him – well, then he’d disappear. And I didn’t want him to disappear. Not yet.

      The elevator doors slowly slid open and he looked at me, his expression a touch more serious than it had been before. ‘If you don’t want to do this, Lana…’I took a second to let the way he said my name wash over me, bringing with it the return of that tiny shiver, before I interrupted him.

      ‘You just promised me the night of my life, Eddie Fletcher. I want to see if you can live up to your promises.’

      He grinned, and if I hadn’t been holding onto him I swear my legs would’ve buckled underneath me. ‘You got it, sweetheart. Let’s get out of here.’

      He continued that rapid pace he seemed to favour as we exited the hotel and headed out onto the Strip, its bright lights and noise giving everything an unreal, almost fairytale,


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