With Love From Las Vegas. Cat Schield

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With Love From Las Vegas - Cat Schield


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didn’t blame the women for wanting to relax and have fun. Isn’t that what she’d ditched work to do yesterday? “Can I make arrangements for spa treatments or arrange transportation for shopping?”

      Susan shook her head. “We’re all set. Why don’t you join us?”

      The offer tempted her, but this morning she’d reminded herself that she wasn’t on vacation. She really needed to stop acting like it. “I’m supposed to be working.”

      “You’re supposed to be in charge of keeping us entertained,” Gloria countered. “No reason you can’t have a little fun at the same time.”

      True. Sebastian was already going to be unhappy when he found out they’d skipped the tours. So what did Missy have to lose?

      She grinned. “Sure. That sounds like a lot of fun. But are you up for a little adventure?”

      Several of the wives eyed her with interest.

      Sebastian’s mother, apparent spokeswoman for the group, spoke up. “We might be. What’d you have in mind?”

       Six

      When Sebastian returned to the suite at the end of that day’s leadership summit, he poured himself a large scotch and stood at the window staring out at the Las Vegas strip. At five in the afternoon, the view lacked glitter.

      His opening speech had gone well, despite the distraction of his father texting in the front row through the entire thing. But by the time Sebastian had finished speaking, he’d felt exactly like someone who’d barely snatched three hours of sleep two nights in a row.

      During lunch he’d made the rounds and caught up to the executives he’d missed at the cocktail party the night before. Everyone commented on how well the summit was organized. Setting the schedule had been Missy’s doing. Had he given her the credit she deserved?

      Or had he simply taken for granted her superior organizational skills, her ability to anticipate his needs, her nonstop encouragement? She managed his calendar, kept track of mundane details and acted as his first line of defense so he could focus on the big picture. He’d given her access to every aspect of the business and control over some major aspects of his private life, like the decisions on the home he’d built. In doing so, he’d demonstrated his faith in her. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever voiced his appreciation.

      No wonder she’d quit.

      “Sebastian?”

      Missy’s soft voice crossed twenty feet of hotel suite and tugged him back to the present. He glanced in her direction.

      She’d poked her head through a narrow opening in the door that connected their rooms. A white towel was wrapped turban-like around her head. Did that mean she was fresh from a shower and that on the other side of the door she wore little more than a towel? Last time she’d appeared dressed like that, his lust for her had been fully sated. After thirty-six hours of celibacy, he wasn’t convinced she’d be safe from him this time.

      Grim and not the least amused by how fast his body tightened in reaction to his speculation, he swallowed the last of the scotch. It seared a path down his throat and straight into his belly.

      “Were you expecting someone else?”

      Her eyes widened. “I was hoping for nice-twin Sebastian instead of evil-twin Sebastian. Give me a ring when he shows up, won’t you?”

      To his surprise and amusement, she shut the door and he heard the decisive click of the lock as it engaged. “Damn her,” he muttered, unable to fight a grin. In a matter of seconds she’d transformed his dark mood into something so much better. How did she do that with such minute effort?

      He rapped on the closed door. As he waited for her to answer, he considered whether he would kiss her first or rip the towel from her body and then kiss her.

      “Who is it?” she called.

      “The big bad wolf,” he called back.

      “The three little pigs aren’t in at the moment. Can I take a message?”

      “Tell them I’m going to huff and puff and blow their house down unless you open this door.”

      “No can do. I’m afraid you’ll eat me up.”

      “If you had any idea how true that was, you’d stay locked in there forever,” he muttered, resting his forehead on the wood panel separating them.

      The long silence that followed left Sebastian wondering if she’d heard him. Heart thumping, he waited, his muscles bunched in anticipation. When he heard the lock turn, he pushed back and waited for her to open the door.

      To his intense disappointment, she wore a sophisticated cocktail dress of dark gold that bared her arms, showcased her tiny waist, and emphasized the flare of her hips. The color enticed gold highlights from the cinnamon locks tossed about her creamy shoulders.

      “You look beautiful.”

      “I’m having a hard time reading you,” she said. “One second you’re my grumpy boss with high moral fiber, the next you’re flirting with me. What’s going on?”

      He tugged her through the doorway and backed her up against the wall.

      “You’re driving me crazy, that’s what.”

      “I’m driving you crazy?” She gazed up at him, eyes widened by his forceful handling. “How exactly?”

      Gentling his touch, he coasted his palm up the generous slope of her hip to the valley of her waist, his caress aided by the silky material she wore. For all its sensual decadence, it couldn’t compare to the hot, luxurious texture of her skin.

      “You’ve changed since arriving in Las Vegas, both in looks and attitude,” he said.

      “And that’s a bad thing?”

      “It is when you wager five thousand dollars and a night with me on the turn of a roulette wheel.”

      “You could have said no.”

      “I’m not the sort who backs down from a challenge.” He grazed her collarbone with his fingers. “But you know that, don’t you? In fact, you’d probably counted on it.”

      “Are you accusing me of something?”

      He followed her neckline to the start of her cleavage. There, he picked up the gold locket he’d seen her wear many times. The piece of jewelry had never fascinated him when it had rested against fabric. Against her skin … that was another thing entirely.

      “You played me.”

      “Hardly.”

      “You knew the instant I walked into the bar that I wanted you and you took advantage.”

      “Wait. Are you trying to tell me that I took advantage of you?” Her husky laugh made him mad with wanting. “Is that even possible?”

      “It’s possible.”

      Comprehension dawned in her eyes. “You want me.”

      He reached between them and cupped her breast, kneading the round contours. “I think we’ve established that.” He eased his hips forward, letting her feel how much.

      Her lashes fluttered and her breath hitched. He knew what would happen if he kissed her. They’d never make it to dinner, and he had two-dozen people converging on the restaurant at that very moment. This was his leadership summit. He was supposed to be playing host.

      “And in your mind that’s bad because what keeps your world all nice and tidy is me, working as your assistant.” Her voice gained strength as she ferreted out all his secrets. “But you think I’m sexy.”

      “Missy.”

      She


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