Chapter One
Oh hell, not again. Shawna Peterson pushed her auburn curls off her shoulders, straightened her back and balanced the silver tray in her left hand before pasting a smile on her face and heading to the Blackjack table. She took the long route to avoid the unwanted visitor sitting at the opposite end of the bar, her steps slow and deliberate. One foot in front of the other, girl. Pretend he isn’t even here. Easier said than done, though.
Pearce Worthington had shown up during her shift every day for the past two weeks. To harass her. To badger her into getting back together with him. And when none of those worked, to threaten her if she continued to deny him the one thing he wanted right now—her sensual curves, the way her waist nipped in to exaggerate her hourglass figure. He wasn’t the first guy to take in her burlesque curves and get the wrong idea, but this was getting ridiculous.
His behavior had moved past annoying and into the realm of stalkerish. Which made no sense at all, given how their relationship of just over a month had ended. She’d shown up at his apartment, finally using the key he’d given her much too early on, deciding it was time to take things to the next level. She’d meant to surprise him, and she certainly had. She’d caught him fucking not one, but two sluts. She’d simply turned and walked away, completely over it.
She released a groan when he made his way to where she stood waiting for the bartender to get her drinks. “Don’t even bother, Pearce. I’m not in the mood for your shit today.”
The bastard chuckled, brushing his honey-blond hair across his forehead. How did I ever find that attractive? But she knew how. She was sick and tired of pretending her battery-operated boyfriend was her super sexy boss, Gage Steele, and Pearce had been the first seemingly nice guy to approach her. His silver-green eyes had raked over her body, clad in the casino’s mandated figure-hugging uniform that did more than hug. That sucker clung to her breasts, which she’d always thought were too big for her height, drawing attention to their movement with every step and her ass, which had always made finding jeans a problem.
Men didn’t seem to mind, but every day, she stepped onto the casino floor and felt like she was completely exposed in her uniform. Uncomfortable. But the tips kept her just this side of the Ramen noodle diet. The Revolution Hotel & Casino stuck to the Revolutionary War theme, requiring cocktail waitresses to wear white booty shorts and a patriot “jacket” that was actually a bustier in the custom red, white and blue.
“Just give me what I want and I’ll be gone,” Pearce wheedled.
Fat chance. She snorted while rearranging the drinks on her tray. “Go back to those skanky girls you had no problem cheating on me with.” She couldn’t stop the bile from rising as she thought of all the things he’d done with two complete strangers. She couldn’t unsee him lying prone with a woman riding his face and another riding his cock like some really bad porn. And his unprotected erection had made sure she would never, ever reconsider their relationship status. The only thing that stopped the situation from being completely humiliating was the she hadn’t yet slept with the unfaithful jackass.
“Come on, babe. Those girls meant nothing to me other than a quick fuck. I can’t get the image of you in that sexy lingerie out of my head.” His gaze crawled down the length of her body before traveling back up as he trailed a finger down her arm in a move she guessed was meant to be sexy.
Instead, she shuddered and stepped away. She wished he’d showed her this side of himself before she’d agreed to that first date. And the second. He’d seemed so nice at the beginning, but now she was starting to see that it had all been an act.
“Then that image is all you’ll ever get from me, Pearce. Back. Off.” She really needed this job because she liked things like a warm bed, electricity and food, but also because it allowed her to pay for her education. She was only one semester into graduate school, and she needed this job to get her through business school. To a new life in a city that wasn’t Las Vegas.
With the drinks settled on the tray, she grabbed it and turned away, a surprised gasp escaping when Pearce grabbed her arm. “Let. Me. Go.” Her voice was low and lethal. Who in the hell did he think he was?
“You think you can walk away from me, bitch? I wonder if you’d be so disagreeable if you no longer had a place to live, or a place in the business program.”
Shawna yanked her arm again, unable to break free of his tight grip. This wasn’t the sometimes arrogant but mostly likeable guy who’d taken her miniature golfing. This guy was… unhinged. “I still wouldn’t want you, and I wonder if you’d be such a tough guy if my hands weren’t full.” Her green eyes shot fire at him, as she wished like hell she could actually incinerate him with her gaze.
He let her go at those words, but her relief was short-lived since he was still leaning against the bar when she returned from the blackjack tables with her empty tray.
“Ready to handle me now?” He slid closer with a greasy smirk, grabbing her arm again, only much tighter. To everyone else, he just looked like another lecherous gambler, but his grip was tight enough that she knew her fair skin would bruise.
Shawna let the tray fall against the bar and used her free hand to grab a handful of his blond hair. “Let. Me. Go.”
“Everything all right over here, honey?”
She knew that deep voice. Knew it well, since it was the voice that urged her to do incredibly naughty things in her dirtiest fantasies. Gage Steele was the tall tanned Viking who owned the casino she worked in, along with who knew how many others around the world. She’d been seriously turned on by him since the moment they’d met, and he’d seemed to reciprocate, immediately flirting and asking her out. But she knew that the sexy billionaire only wanted a one-night stand. And she didn’t want to be just another of his many women.
Slowly, her head swiveled and, yep, sure enough, it was him. Wait, did he just call me honey? “Uh, no, actually, sweetie.”