Death by Celine Dion was an actual thing. Who knew?

I would, by the end of this night.

Worst of all, the evening had started so innocuously. Well, after the blowjob that nearly blew my damn head off. But once I’d gotten out of the hot tub, wrung out my shorts, and slipped into the shower to clean up, my mind started to clear. Some. I was still revved up, almost to the point that I would’ve sworn I hadn’t come.

And I had. Incredibly. Right into the waiting mouth of the most gorgeous pain in the ass I’d ever known.

She was waiting for me when I got out of the shower. Not knowing what exactly her idea of dinner consisted of, I’d gone with a slate-gray suit and vest, sans tie. She had on a slinky navy sheath that hugged her curves, and her still-wet hair hung in long, curling waves down her back. My fingers had tingled at the sight of it. Fisting it had felt way too damn good. Natural.

As would taking a palm to her tight little ass.

Her smile had been saucy, as if she’d been let in on a big secret. Knowing. Yet she didn’t have a clue of all the pleasures that awaited her.

Assuming I didn’t kill her before the end of the night.

We ate at a swanky restaurant called Caribou, and she was her usual self with everyone who helped us—the maître d’, our server, and the manager who walked around making sure everyone was happy with their food. Yet she barely spoke to me. She ordered salmon with a small green salad, and we shared an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms and lots of awkward silence.

Were regrets setting in already?

For dessert, she selected a piece of cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry glaze, big enough to share. I wasn’t huge on sweets, but it looked delicious. I was about to dig in when she let out a small sigh.

“Celine Dion is who I listened to when I found out my parents were selling the bed-and-breakfast. She helped heal me.”

I would’ve laughed at the healing part if she didn’t seem so serious about it. One point for keeping my damn mouth shut for once. I continued slicing off a thin wedge of cake before transferring it to my plate.

“How did she do that?”

“I had no warning. Well, little warning. I came home on summer break, ready for another summer of helping everyone, and my parents sat me down in the great room and told me they had exciting news. I thought maybe we’d been featured in one of the big touristy magazines or something.” She rested her cheek on the back of her hand and dipped her fork into the puddle of glaze that had accumulated on the plate. But she didn’t eat. “They didn’t even ask me or let me down gently, or hell, even give me a chance to put some funds and resources together. It was a done deal. They were selling the bed-and-breakfast and retiring to travel, and wasn’t that so wonderful for me? I’d be truly on my own.”

“But it wasn’t wonderful. You didn’t want to be on your own.” When she didn’t reply right away, I gestured with my fork. “Eat your cake.”

She startled at my stern tone, though she complied without hesitation. No balking whatsoever. She definitely hadn’t minded my dominance in the Jacuzzi, which fascinated and intrigued me. I wouldn’t have guessed she had a submissive tendency in her body.

Surprise, surprise. There was something there. A fledgling, untried part of her she likely hadn’t had a chance to express.

I hoped to find out more about that side of her. Not now. Now we had a much thornier topic to discuss.

“No, I didn’t want to be on my own. My life had been about my family and working at the bed-and-breakfast every spare moment. I’d hoped one day to make it my own.”

That dovetailed with what Ally had told me, but it was always better when it was corroborated from the horse’s mouth.

“Did you inform your parents of that?”

Sage dragged her fork through the curls of ganache, spearing one and then delicately eating it off the tines. I was certain she wasn’t trying to be alluring. It was as natural as her innocence.

Completely intoxicating.

“I thought they knew. It wasn’t as if I’d hidden how much I loved the hospitality industry. I minored in it in school. My free time was theirs for years. I loved the work, so it wasn’t a hardship. And I was good at it too.”

“But they never asked you if you wanted to take over, and you never told them you wanted to. You also never want back to school.”

“Why should I? I’d gone to school for interior design and hospitality, and now the bed-and-breakfast was gone. Or it was going. By then, they already had prospective buyers. I didn’t have a business background to raise that kind of capital on my own,” she added, as if guessing my next question. “Besides, they didn’t think I could do it alone. Maybe they were right.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

She jerked a shoulder and set down her fork. She’d eaten a few bites after my directive, but she’d swiftly slowed down again. “I’m sure it doesn’t make sense to you. You’ve never struggled with your confidence.”

“That’s not true. But even if it were, I know I can ask for help. There are people I can turn to. Options always exist.”

Even as I said the words, they rang hollowly in my ears.

Me, ask for help? I’d never asked anyone for anything. Couldn’t. It was as if my vocal cords froze up when I made a request that required someone to do something for me out of the kindness of their hearts.

So, I commanded, and cajoled, and if that didn’t work, slyly threatened. I’d honed those skills through years in the real estate business. My father tolerated no fools and put up with no weakness, including from his sons. Especially from his sons.

“It all seemed so overwhelming, so I shut down. They offered me a small piece of the selling price for school, and I invested it.”

“You have no intention of going back to school.”

“Didn’t I just say that? Why should I? I don’t need to stage rooms in my daily life. I work in a diner. And the education in hospitality I’ve already received is more than adequate to deal with my customers.”

“You also have no intention of touching that money.”

Her defensive posture matched the flare of annoyance in her eyes. “They sold something I loved. No, I don’t want the money. I have no use for it. I do fine at the diner.”

My default reaction was to laugh. Snidely, as my father would have. In fact, the sound rumbled in my chest and her head lifted, her soft, wary gaze hardening. So I shoved it down.

I wasn’t my goddamn father, and my father wouldn’t have tolerated such rudeness toward Sage in any case. The senior Hamilton had always loved her. I’d once believed it was because her family was made up of well-to-do, salt-of-the-earth types who pleased his Puritan soul. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

It might’ve just been the magic of Sage Evans, making friends out of foes everywhere she went.

“Tell me how Celine healed you.” Not saying it sarcastically was a challenge and a half.

Jesus, being a nice person was difficult.

She sniffled. Her eyes didn’t look wet, thank God, but there was definitely emotion behind the gesture. “You don’t care.”

“Yes, I do care, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

She took another bite of cake, but she wasn’t getting nearly the pleasure from it I’d expected. I’d rather been looking forward to watching her enjoy types of cuisine she didn’t get at home. Instead, she’d been glum, and it probably had to do with my hasty dismissal of Celine—not blowing me in the hot tub.

Small favors, I supposed.

“I have trouble letting my emotions out sometimes. My dad’s a real stoic type, and my mom is so emotional that she used to make me vow not to be like her. So I stuffed down everything. Watching Titanic and listening to ‘My Heart Will Go On’ loosened the logjam.” She gestured with her free hand at her chest. “In here.”

Rather than say something I was certain would not help, I made a humming noise and forked up more cake.

“Winning this trip and tickets to see her, well, it seemed like kismet. I was fine with going alone.” She tipped back her head and glanced at the ceiling. “Fine, I was hoping to meet someone who might enjoy her too. There have to be men who are comfortable with their sensitive sides, right?”

“Sensitive sides, sure. Guys with sensitive sides who will make your eyes roll back in your head and listen voluntarily to Celine?” I shrugged. “Few and far between, princess.”

The sweet name just slipped out, as it had earlier. But all at once, a change seemed to come over her. She straightened and her eyes cleared, and she smiled in that same sexy way she had back in the hotel room for a brief instant that had made me think she’d forgotten all about the Celine nonsense.

“You know, you’re right. I’m putting far too much importance on this.” She leaned forward, and like the lech I was, my gaze dipped to the plunging vee of her dress.

God, she had some rack on her. Now that I’d seen them completely bare, I was even more riveted by them.

Christ, stop acting like you just got out of prison. Eyes up. She’s speaking to you.

“I’ve never had a nickname before, except from my mom. She calls me a few things, but sweet pea is her favorite.” She smiled so shyly that my goddamn heart lurched. “I like princess.”

I shifted toward her across the table, extending my arm so I could rub my thumb over the corner of her mouth. “Missed a dab of cake, princess,” I said deliberately, drawing my thumb back to suck it into my own mouth.

She watched the movement avidly, her breath rushing out between her parted lips.

“It’s okay if you don’t like Celine. Maybe you could gamble while I’m at the show?” she asked breathlessly.

I had to smile. She was giving me an out, but she wasn’t missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity even if I wasn’t interested. She was so much stronger than she gave herself credit for.

So much more alluring.

“I will admit she’s not my favorite, but she’s extremely talented. If you’d like to go, we’re going.”

“We are?”

The glow on her face was worth enduring anything. Even a warbler with an annoying accent. “Absolutely.” I inclined my chin toward her plate. “If you finish your cake.”

She dug into it eagerly, and just watching her eat was a pleasure unto itself. She was so lusty in everything she did—at least when she stopped letting fear rule her.

I couldn’t wait to see her blossom even more.

Once she’d finished her cake and I’d paid the bill—after a scuffle, since she wanted to use her dining allowance from the radio station—we went outside to catch a ride to The Colosseum.

“No, never mind riding. It’s such a beautiful night. I want to walk.” Sage clasped my hand, lacing her fingers with mine as she gazed up at me. “Okay?”

Saying no to her was going to become a problem, I could already tell.

In lieu of an answer, I squeezed her hand and waved off the waiting car.

The weather was balmy and perfect. At first, she didn’t get too close as we walked, though she never broke the link of our fingers. But then she cuddled in, resting her head against my arm now and again as she noted the sights and I offered my own insight. I wasn’t a Vegas connoisseur, but I’d visited a few times.

None of those trips had been like this.

I’d always traveled alone, and I lived my life mostly by rote. Seeing things without truly experiencing them.

Sage made that impossible.

“God, I love palm trees. They’re so majestic. I wish we had them in New York.”

It felt good to laugh. “Not thinking that will happen. The climate isn’t quite hospitable for them.”

“But they’re so pretty. Look at all the stars.” She tipped her head back against my arm.

“How can you even see them?” The dazzling lights of the strip nearly rendered it impossible for me to make them out.

“I have excellent eyesight. Besides, when else will I have a chance to see real Vegas stars? I’ll fill in the damn dots if I have to. Dang,” she corrected as I chuckled.

“We could rent a car tomorrow, take a ride out to the desert. You could see them so much clearer out there.”

She smiled up at me, subtly tightening her hold on my arm. It was as if some kind of barrier had broken between us as soon as she’d grabbed me in fright during the plane ride.

I didn’t want that barrier to return. Ever.

“I’d like that. Assuming we don’t spend all day in bed.” She grinned. “Which we cannot, because hello, we’re in Vegas.”

I swallowed and my tongue ended up near my knees.

Holy fuck, how could one barely dirty comment make me harder than the sidewalk we were walking on?

“So how do you feel about gambling?”

I was supposed to talk now? I was having enough trouble walking due to the sudden constriction in my trousers.

“It’s entertaining enough,” I managed. Barely. “In limited doses.”

“What do you play?”

“Baccarat,” I said succinctly.

“And?”

“Baccarat.”

She frowned. “What about slots?”

“What about them?”

“Do you play those? They look really fun. I saw this Friends episode once, you know the one where Ross and Rachel ended up married—” She broke off and cocked her head. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’re unique.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She propped a hand on her hip. “I bet you’ve never seen Friends, have you?”

“No. The title seemed too banal to merit interest.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your banal is the rest of the world’s must-see TV, boyo.” She tugged me with her up the street. We’d reach The Colosseum one of these days. “We’ll watch it together. I know all the good episodes and the ones to skip. I have Netflix.” She raised her brows at me as if she expected me to argue, or perhaps to make Celine-Dion-level insults.

I did neither. It had already occurred to me that this trip would end in under forty-eight hours. If I didn’t figure out a plan to ensure she’d continue seeing me once we returned home, she probably would not. As soon as we resumed our regular routines, I had a feeling she’d be back to hating my guts and voting against me in polls about which was the hottest Hamilton twin.

And yes, I’d heard of that poll, and yes, I knew she’d been the only one to vote Seth ahead of me. I’d been amused at the time. Hate and love were opposite each other across such a thin line.

Now the reality of our lives wasn’t all that funny. It would be too easy for us to fall into typical patterns and lose whatever this was.

I didn’t know yet. Didn’t have a fucking clue. But I wanted a chance to let it evolve without meddling brothers and nosy sisters-in-law and just daily life intruding.

“When?” I asked.

She pursed her lips. “You’re agreeable?”

I nodded.

“Hmm, well, we probably won’t have time this trip. You don’t mean…”

Gravely, I nodded again.

“You want to see me when we’re back home?”

“I always see you when we’re back home. Practically on a daily basis.”

“Not like that.” She waved her free hand. “I mean, this kind of seeing.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “The kind where I put my mouth on your manly bits.”

I choked out a laugh. God, she was something. “Well, that part can always be negotiated, but we’re friends now, right?”

“I guess.”

Such enthusiasm truly warmed a man’s heart. But I sensed I needed to tread gently here before I sent my little deer fleeing into the woods. “Friends watch TV together. They eat meals together too.”

“They do.” She squealed and pointed at a plane going overhead with a message trailing behind it. “Oh my gosh, look! It’s a marriage proposal. Aww, isn’t that the sweetest thing?”

“Shouldn’t something like that be kept private?”

She gave me a glacial look that said I’d probably be watching Friends by myself. In the dark. In my boxers while holding a bottle of Molson.

“Do you know anything at all about romance? I thought you were considered suave with the ladies.”

“The women I typically date aren’t looking for romance.”

“I bet,” she muttered darkly, not so subtly moving away from me.

My phone buzzed at my hip and I picked it up, intending to ignore the call. It was my brother. Why was he calling instead of texting as he normally did?

Oh shit, was it the baby? I hadn’t gotten any of those infernal twin vibes that always seemed to assail me when my brother was in pain—either physical or severe emotional—but maybe distance affected the reception. We’d never tested the boundaries of the supposed twin bond. I tried to dismiss it as hogwash most of the time anyway.

I swallowed hard and accepted the call. “Is the baby okay?”

Beside me, Sage stopped walking and put a hand to her mouth.

“The baby is fine. How is Sage?”

I slid a sideways glance at her and minutely shook my head. “Other than you scaring her witless by calling, she’s perfectly fine. What’s going on?”

“And how are you?”

That explained why there were no twin vibes, and it wasn’t due to location. The jackass was on a scouting mission, probably thanks to his lovely wife.

“Having the time of my life. I’ve never had a more incredible trip.” Beside me, Sage tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Filled with all the sights and sounds of a splendorous Vegas—”

“Cut the crap. Have you slept with her or not?”

I cleared my throat. Luckily, the sidewalks were filled with so many revelers and tourists, all heading in and out of the casinos and hotels, that Sage couldn’t have heard Seth’s booming voice if she wanted to. And she clearly did, since she was walking on her tiptoes to try to get closer to my ear.

I switched my cell to the other hand. “I can vouch there has been no sleeping.”

Seth swore. “She’s a virgin. You know that. How could you?”

Somewhere down deep, something akin to hurt flared. I didn’t care that I was known as a womanizer in town. I knew the truth, that I treated women with respect and told no lies about my intentions. But to have my own brother—my goddamn twin—act as if I was some horny asshole who’d dragged Sage into a bathroom to join the mile-high club was too much.

Didn’t you practically do just that? You dragged her into a hot tub. She told you she rarely received physical affection anymore. Are you honestly surprised she sought comfort from you? You were available. Convenient. What happens in Vegas…and she’s already been reluctant to make plans with you afterward.

Sage stopped walking and pointed at a boutique that was still open. I didn’t understand what she meant until she darted into the shop.

Maybe she had heard. Or maybe she just wanted to shop until she dropped. Who even knew anymore?

“We haven’t slept together,” I said through gritted teeth once the door closed behind her. “Happy now?”

Seth audibly exhaled. “Yes, I am. Ally said she wasn’t worried since Sage hates you, but I told her not to diminish your skills at the woo.”

“Skills at the woo? Is that some childish reference to performing oral sex on a woman?”

Seth laughed. “Hardly. You know, wooing a woman. You’re good at it. And Sage is an easy mark. Tell her she’s pretty, spend some time with her, and she’s likely to confuse sex and love.”

“Whoa there, sex and love? On the first day we’re traveling together? Also, don’t you think you should give Sage a bit more credit?” When he didn’t respond right away, I shook my head. “You and Ally are a pair, all right. Both claim to love her but don’t see her for half of what she truly is.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a little more than the commentary of her frenemy, don’t you think? Maybe you’re the one confusing sex and love already.”

“I’m not confused about anything. You, however, are confused if you think I’m going to continue this conversation. Goodnight, Seth. Give Ally my best.” I clicked off before he could do more than sputter.

As much as I didn’t want to find any value in what he’d said, he was probably right about one thing. Sage was in a sensitive spot right now. She wanted fun and adventure, and maybe that was making her less than choosy about her companion for such. I’d come along on this trip not by her choice. Maybe the hot tub adventure had been about proximity more than the boiling over of repressed sexual desire.

She was a virgin, after all. She had to be boiling so hard that she was capable of setting herself aflame. That didn’t mean she was boiling specifically for me.

Sage deserved more credit, and so did I. Just because I wanted Sage for reasons that extended beyond this trip, didn’t mean the opposite was true. I wasn’t fully certain what all those reasons were yet or when exactly they’d taken root. But perhaps it didn’t matter.

What happened in Vegas might stay in Vegas. And that was a game I didn’t intend to play.