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Her stomach roiling with nerves, Bonnie got out of a taxi in front of the Rocque casino. Lights sprayed the exterior, the display changing subtly, washing the surface of the casino. She hadn’t wanted to come but when the girls had seen the VIP bands, they’d gone crazy. Since they were listed as her guests, Bonnie had no choice. She’d had to come.
The place looked like an extravagant theater from the golden age of Hollywood. There was even a lush red carpet laid before the door. Paparazzi stood behind barriers and snapped, the flashes increasing when a celebrity got out of a limo and strolled on to the wide area between the ropes.
Georgia G swanned up the red carpet, pausing to pose provocatively for the eager paparazzi. They shouted questions at her, “Are you announcing your engagement to Garrett Rocquelaire tonight?” She only winked and told them to wait and see.
“You really want to go in?” Bonnie said doubtfully.
“Are you kidding?” Francine nudged her. “This is the best night ever!”
It had taken them as full hour to persuade Bonnie to come tonight. Once they’d disabused her of any notion that they’d set her up with a stripper, they’d shown her enough pictures of Garrett Rocquelaire to convince her she’d got it wrong.
The back of Bonnie’s neck flushed hot when she recalled her mistake. That smile, mischievous, but with a depth that promised he’d deliver. Oh God, and she’d called him a pumped-up model. He must have had a good laugh after she stormed out of his office. But it was nice of him to send the tickets, even though that was the last thing she wanted to do.
Her heart sank. Could she go back, after she’d made such a fool of herself? She’d just pray they didn’t meet tonight. She’d huddle with her friends. He probably wouldn’t recognize her anyway.
She’d certainly taken her mind off her problems tonight. But at the reminder, the worry zoomed back to pester her once more.
While the girls ooed and ahed over the celebrities walking into the casino, Bonnie’s muscles clenched with fear. Bonnie had avoided the answer for years. Avoiding taking the test had become a habit. Her mother never stopped nagging her about it, but she was right. The test would tell Bonnie if she, too, carried the malformed gene that would almost certainly give her breast cancer. If the test was positive, she would have the operation, rather than live her life waiting for the disease to strike.
Every time she thought of it, her anxiety levels rose so high she felt sick. Sometimes she was sick. The test had become a mountain she couldn’t climb, but it was stopping her living her life. She’d wanted to come here to find her father if she could, and make her decision without the pressures of everyday life.
At least her boobs were well on display tonight. She felt underdressed, but it could have been worse. She’d managed to find a dress on sale. The stretchy pink fabric clung to her figure but it was far too short and dipped too low at the front. She’d found a pair of silver sandals she could probably wear again, and reluctantly spent a hundred dollars on her whole outfit.
The others had gone to town. The smaller their outfits were, the more they’d paid for them, but together they made a glittering feast of made-up, laughing women.
Francine nudged her. “Go and give that man our invites.”
Tentatively, worried she would tip over at every step because of the height of her heels, Bonnie stepped forward and confronted a security guard. He was dressed in tuxedo and shiny black shoes, and he looked down at her from a great height.
“Ah—we have invitations.” The man glanced at the card, turned it over and plucked a small device from his pocket. He scanned the bar code and glanced at her passport when she produced it. “Okay.” He peered at her closely. “You can go in now.”
Inside, the casino was lit with washes of lights going through the spectrum. They’d closed the casino for everybody except hotel and party guests. It must have cost them a fortune.
“Come on,” Francine said, taking her elbow and steering her forwards. “Let’s get a table and some drinks. The VIP area has an open bar.”
Susie giggled. “I wonder if we’ll see Garrett Rocquelaire?”
Francine winked. “Not now Georgia is here. He’ll probably spend all his time with her.”
Recalling the tantalizing glimpse of Garrett’s bronzed chest she’d had last night, Bonnie felt heat rise to her cheeks. She prayed her blush didn’t show in the constant flow of lights.
The women soon took advantage of the open bar in the VIP area, and an array of brightly colored drinks waited on the table. After her first sip of the luminous green confection they’d given her, Bonnie decided this was her first and last drink tonight. The power of the alcohol seared through the fruit juices, once she’d fought her way past the cocktail umbrellas and fancy straws. Her feeble “Can I have a glass of water to go with this?” went unheeded.
The bar was black glass and the table they sat at shimmering golden glass, with not a mark on its surface when they’d sat down to use it. Each circular table had its own long sofa, curved to the same shape, some in gold, others in purple. Different shades of the same colors designated the areas of the casino, with touches of sharp lime green adding contrast.
Francine nudged her when she laughed at a risqué joke one of the girls made. “Isn’t this great?”
Well, aspects of it certainly were, and she said so. “I like that there’s no smoke in the air. Rocquelaire hasn’t held back on the décor, has he?”
“I tried not to.”
Every hair on the back of her neck prickled with awareness. The women fell silent. They were staring up, their eyes saucer-wide. Francine’s mouth dropped open.
Slowly, Bonnie turned.
There he was, more gorgeous than any man had a right to be. He wore an immaculate tuxedo, the white shirt front crisply reflecting the lights on the dance floor. He gazed straight at her, his blue eyes warm, and a smile curling his full mouth. “Would you care to dance?”
She snapped her mouth shut. When she gazed into his eyes, she saw nothing but her there. He seemed oblivious to everybody else. The two minders standing either side of him, and the women around Bonnie might as well not have existed.
With a blink, she cut the connection, and only then realized he was waiting for her reply. She wet her lips, and his gaze shot to her mouth. “I’d love to,” she said, although she didn’t know if she could put one foot in front of the other right now. At least the DJ was playing rock music, so she needn’t worry about getting too close to him.
She had to shuffle past Francine and Susie to get out. They nudged her as she went past, and she heard a muffled giggle. She couldn’t blame them, but she felt herself blushing again.
When she reached him he caught her hand and led her to the floor, where half a dozen couples had already ventured. At least they wouldn’t be alone.
Garrett had large hands, warm ones too, tempting her to curl into him and let him hold her. Forbidden thoughts, unimaginable thoughts.
As they hit the floor, the music changed. Still rock, but a power ballad. Without pausing, Garrett drew her closer, and folded his arms around her. She had no choice but to put her hands on his waist, coming into close contact with him. His coat slid around her hands, surrounding her with his warmth. She’d meant to hold him through the jacket, but somewhere between the table and the dance floor, he’d undone it. She hadn’t noticed until her hands touched his smooth, silk shirt. The heat of him warmed her, making her want impossible things.
“Now that,” he said in a tone of deep satisfaction, “is better.”
All her life Bonnie had watched her mother’s inherent grace, and unconsciously picked it up. While she didn’t often dance, she knew how, and she followed his guidance.
“Much better,” he rumbled. They weren’t exactly smooching, although they were really close. His muscles moved under her palms with every sway, flexing and bunching in sweet synchrony. He smelt divine, a subtle whiff of expensive aftershave blending with hot, fit masculinity. “I’m sorry you left so quickly yesterday. I need to talk to you.”
Hastily, she stared at the buttons on his shirt rather than his face. “I must have misheard what you said.”
“No you didn’t. I asked you to marry me, and I meant it.”
She stumbled, and he slowed down. “Why?”
“Spare me an hour, and I’ll tell you.”
Her mind spun. “Aren’t you getting married to Georgia G soon?”
He sighed, and executed a deft turn. He was still smiling, she saw, when she took another peek back at his face. “No, but I am getting married.”
What did he mean by that? “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” A grim tone underlaid his voice. “Now look at me.”
When she lifted her chin once more, the frown had gone. He met her gaze, his own periwinkle blue, snaring her, and it happened again. The music faded, and chatter subsided. Bending his head, he brushed her lips with his.
Bonnie expected a soft kiss, brief and sweet. When he pressed his lips to hers, she opened them in automatic response. With a groan, he deepened the kiss.
Electricity zinged along her veins. The hot place between her legs tingled, and her nipples contracted to sharp points. He licked her tongue, then the roof of her mouth. With a sigh, she melted, giving him her surrender.
Flashes went off behind her eyes. His jaw, smooth, but with the threat of incipient stubble, grazed her with a delicious nudge before he raised his head.
“Boss.”
The quiet word had him turning to the man she now knew was Murray Wilson, the big man who had taken her up to his office. Garrett grimaced. “It’s time I did my job. Come on.”
He headed toward the front of the VIP area to the casino, where a platform was set up. The trouble was, he hadn’t let go of her hand. He towed her through the group of security men, and up to the platform before he seemed to realize he still held her. With a grin, he nodded to Murray, who led Bonnie to a row of chairs. Someone else was sitting there; Georgia G.
Georgia wasn’t happy. Her face bore a fixed smile, but she glared at Bonnie. “Friend of the family are you?” she said through her sparkling white, though gritted teeth.
“S-something like that,” Bonnie managed to say.
Georgia kept her smile. Close up, it looked grotesque, frozen in place. “Don’t hang around afterwards,” she said. “I’ll tell him you had to go.”
Bonnie didn’t reply.
Hyper aware of all the cameras and phones trained on them, Bonnie planted her feet flat on the floor. That way people couldn’t see up her skirt to the sensible panties she’d had on underneath, the only ones that hadn’t left a visible line. Folding her hands in her lap, she tried to tell herself this was exactly like speech day at school.
Except she’d never had a teacher as bone-meltingly gorgeous as Garrett. Nobody sounded like him, either. His accent, crisp and seductive at the same time, killed her.
He made a short and charming speech about the casino. “When my father asked me to oversee the renovations, I said no, but when I saw it, I knew somebody had to love it. I’ve done my best. The Rocque has been part of the Las Vegas Strip for thirty years, and now it’s here for another thirty. But I promise not to wait that long before we give it another lick of paint.”
Applause followed, even a few cheers.
Georgia stood and walked to his side, smiling. Then he leaned in to her and murmured something in her ear. Georgia glanced at Bonnie, her eyes cold, but nodded to Garrett.
She came back and sat again. “You’ve got half an hour,” she said, that smile fixed to her face as if glued there. “Get your business done and leave.”
When he held out his hand, Bonnie stood and took it. Why she did it, she’d never know, except that it seemed natural. He tugged her to his side, and curved his arm around her, smiling down into her face.
Shouts came from all directions. “New girlfriend, Garrett? What about Georgia?”
The raucous shout was followed by more. Shocked, Bonnie jerked away, only to be stopped by the prison of his arm around her waist. He held her tightly, gazing at her with a satisfied smile.
Blinking, unable to speak, she stared up at him. “Let me take you upstairs,” he said. “We need to finish what we started.”
“Yes,” she said, before her mind clicked back into reality.
Talking, he meant talking, of course he did. But that kiss affected her as no other ever had before. His touch thrilled her to the marrow, filled her with desire. This man was dangerous. Her brain turned to mush when he was around. Whatever he was, whoever he was didn’t seem significant.
With one hand tucked at the small of her back, Garrett led her down the steps at the side of the platform, straight through the block of media people who thronged around them. He didn’t stop walking, but took her to a private door, which a bouncer opened for him.
Elevator doors slid open and he led her into a sleek, small lift, the interior gleaming with aluminum and glass. He leaned against the wall, stuck his hands in his pockets, and gazed at her. “You look amazing.”
She wanted to pull her skirt further down her thighs. “Thanks. What did you tell your girlfriend?”
“Georgia? That we had a little business to conduct. Georgia doesn’t care what I get up to in private. It’s the public image she wants.”
A half smile tilted one corner of his mouth and he watched her until the doors slid open.