“Care to explain yourself?”

Something hits me in the chest, and I grumble as I peel open my eyes. “Brock, what the fuck, man? Get out of here with that shit.”

Officially, Brock’s my PR representative. He does way more than that, though. He’s my go-to guy—handy dude, has gotten me out of a lot of scrapes over the years. But right now he’s looking pissed.

He gestures at what he’s thrown at me. I lift it up and peer at it through bleary eyes—a garish tabloid newspaper.

He doesn’t give me a chance to read it.

“What happened last night? Who is this woman? I told you, if you were seeing someone, you were supposed to tell me. In fact, anything happens in your life, you tell me.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Whatever happened to privacy?”

He sighs in frustration and crosses his arms, like a teacher reprimanding a wayward kid. “You lost your privacy the moment Forbes printed your face on the cover. Cosmopolitan called you ‘the most eligible bachelor in the country’. Well, until last night, apparently.”

I chuckle. I’m rich enough that I could get anyone I want to do my PR for me. Hell, most of the top PR firms would work for me for free, just for the exposure.

But I like Brock. He calls me out on my shit and doesn’t let me get away with anything, and that’s the kind of guy I need. Especially when things get a little . . . wild, like last night.

* * *

I met her in the Bellagio, down in the casino. She was sitting at the bar, alone, well on her way to being drunk.

I’d admired her gorgeous hourglass figure from behind for a few moments, before sitting next to her and flashing her the old, time-honored Luke Alder smile.

Never fails. And if it does, well, the billions of dollars and ripped abs usually do the trick. And if they don’t work . . . well, shit, I’m not exactly lacking for confidence, either. I can talk a woman into bed just as easily as I can impress her with my other gifts.

Nah, safe to say I was pretty confident about bagging this girl.

I was expecting her face to light up as soon as she saw me. Almost everyone I ever meet recognizes me as soon as they see me.

Having your face splashed all over the tabloids on a weekly basis kind of has that side effect. There’s no shortage of beautiful women falling all over themselves to get me into bed, and I am more than happy to oblige.

This girl was different, though. When I sat next to her she looked me up and down, and although I could tell that she liked what she saw, there was no spark of recognition in her eyes.

“What’s a gorgeous woman like you doing drinking alone? Care for some company?”

She shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, why not? My so-called friend has found her hook-up for the night, so it looks like I’ve got to make my own fun.”

I grinned at her. “I like the sound of that. And hey - this is Vegas; no shortage of fun to be had around here.”

Her eyes lit up at that, and my heart skipped a beat.

Holy shit, this girl is stunning.

“I know, right?! I did so much research before I came here, scoped out all sorts of fun shows and stuff, but all my friend wants to do is hook up with strangers.”

I ordered a whisky on the rocks, and shrugged. “There’s no shame in that. Hooking up with strangers is a lot of fun. In fact–”

My bad attempt to seal the deal was cut short as she interrupted me. She was looking me straight in the eye, earnest and serious. “You got any plans this evening?”

Yep, as a matter of fact I do. Getting you into bed and fucking your brains out.

“I dunno, maybe play some cards, shoot some dice? I’m easy.”

She scoffed at that, rolling her beautiful brown eyes. “Gambling? Is that as far as your imagination stretches? There’s a whole city out there, just full of stuff waiting to be explored. Limitless opportunities, crazy possibilities...and you want to just sit in this smoky casino and gamble?”

She drained the last of her drink and stood, giving me the first proper look at her body. She was wearing a strappy little red cocktail dress, and it hugged her curves in all the right places. I could feel my cock stirring by just looking at her.

She gave me a lingering, meaningful glance as she stepped away from the bar. “You enjoy losing your money, okay? I’m going to find something more interesting to do.”

And then she was leaving, weaving her way through the crowd. I sat there, spellbound for a moment or two by the sight of her amazing ass, then suddenly realized that she was going to get away if I didn’t follow her.

I gulped down my drink and pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring the mutters and exclamations of people recognizing me.

There were plenty of other beautiful women around me, and no doubt I could have had my pick of them, but I only had eyes for this intriguing woman in red. I liked being made to work for my reward, and something told me that this woman was not going to come easy.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my line of work, is that when you work for something, really work for it, the reward is all the sweeter.

She was walking quickly, ducking deftly through the throngs as she made her way towards the exit. Occasionally she threw a glance over her shoulder, noticing that I was following her. A sly, satisfied smile played on her crimson lips.

I’ve got to have her.

I eventually caught up to her out in the lobby, reaching out and touching her arm. “A guy might think you wanted to lose him, the way you were moving back there.”

“I wanted to see if you could keep up.” She shrugged. “Now, what do you want to do?”

I considered for a moment, before she pulled out a little guidebook from her handbag.

“Look.” She pointed to a map. “There’s an indoor rollercoaster. Let’s go there.”

And without even waiting for my response she was moving again. In a few moments we were out on the strip, the balmy night air of the desert pleasant after the cold AC in the casino.

“Slow down a little, babe,” I said. “It’s not a race.”

She made a face. “My name’s not ‘babe’, it’s Tessa. And you are?”

She waited expectantly.

“Luke,” I said, waiting for the penny to drop and for her to realize who I was. But it didn’t happen.

“Luke. Nice to meet you, Luke. I hope you don’t get sick on rollercoasters, because I spent a week’s salary on this dress and I could do without getting puke all over it.”

I puffed up my chest. “Stomach of steel,” I said, patting it. “Here, touch it and see.”

Women could never resist the abs. But as I was already learning, Tessa wasn’t just any woman.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she laughed. “That shirt you’re wearing doesn’t leave much to the imagination anyway.”

I winked at her. “I could say the same about that dress of yours...but believe me, I’m not complaining. Now, come on, let’s go find this rollercoaster of yours.”

We bought cans of beer from a guy with a cooler on the side of the street and walked down the strip chatting as we drank them. Tessa was from out of town, visiting the friend she’d talked about at the bar, but before I could learn more about her we’d arrived at our destination.

She ducked inside and a short while later we were strapped in, whirling around at 60 miles per hour under a huge dome.

Tessa screamed and laughed, and her enthusiasm and lust for life was infectious. I had to admit, this beat the pants off staying back in the Bellagio and rolling some craps. I’d spent a lot of time in Vegas over the years, but I’d never had a night quite like this.

The rest of the evening passed by in a surreal blur. There were flamingos, an underwater temple, Roman Gods and hot dogs eaten on the street from a little hole in the wall diner. We drank, we laughed, and we had a fucking all-around amazing time. I even forgot that I was supposed to be trying to get Tessa into bed, we were having so much fun.

At some point, we found ourselves back at the Bellagio, standing in front of the fountains. The night was cool now, the crowds thinning out a little. Tessa shivered a little, and I offered her my jacket, but she declined.

“Let’s dance,” she said.

“What, right here?” I replied. “There’s no music…”

“We don’t need music, party pooper. Now c’mon, and I hope you know how to dance. I don’t date men who can’t dance.”

I laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about dating?”

“Shut up,” she said, and kissed me on the lips. It took my breath away, but before I could respond she’d broken contact and took my hands. We danced close, the fountains in the background, gaudy beads around our necks from I didn’t even remember where, and, to make things just that little bit weirder, a giant pink elephant balloon floating over our heads.

Tessa was a much better dancer than I was, so I mostly followed her lead. She spun and twirled, eyes closed and completely in the moment. I was completely spellbound by her.

The fountains stopped, and she twirled one last time into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder. She pointed over to the replica Eiffel tower in the distance.

“I always wanted to see the real thing . . .” she murmured dreamily. “But I never had the money. Maybe one day . . .”

* * *

“Luke, are you even listening to me?”

I’m rudely awoken from my daydream by Brock, still standing there looking disgruntled. He’s already dressed for the day, looking sharp in a pressed suit.

I, on the other hand, look and feel like shit. My head’s pounding, my mouth feels as dry as the desert outside the window, and I’ve got to pee.

I pull myself out of bed and go to the bathroom, as Brock continues to browbeat me. “The phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning. Everyone wants to know about this girl —who she is, where you met her, was the wedding planned?”

Brock laughs bitterly, probably realizing the scale of his work over the next few days.

“I mean, seriously Luke? A shotgun Vegas wedding? What the fuck were you thinking? Jesus Christ, I don’t even know where to start with this one. I let you out of my sight for one goddamn night, and you go and do something like this. Do you know what the board will say?”

He sounds vaguely panicked. I finish up in the bathroom and pad back into the room, still dressed only in my boxers.

Brock takes a deep breath and starts flipping through the large stack of papers he’s holding.

“Okay, I guess we can ignore the tabloids for now. But shit, Luke, even the major business newspapers have been calling, asking if this will affect our acquisitions. I say we sit down right now, come up with a statement that we can start releasing, and then try and see how to get this colossal fuck-up fixed before it causes any more trouble.”

I yawn. “Where’s my phone?”

“Finally, some reaction.” Brock looks relieved.

He grabs my cell from the coffee table and throws it over to me. I catch it in one hand and start swiping.

“Now, you need to start calling around, telling people not to talk to the media until we get this statement—”

I interrupt him. “Relax, Brock, before you keel over or something. I’m not calling the office.”

He stands there, open-mouthed in shock.

I find Tessa’s number on my phone and smile.

“So, everyone wants to know about this girl, huh? So do I, as a matter of fact. I should give my wife a call.”