Chapter Twenty-Two

Now

The trip to Vegas passes in a flash. The team’s excited to arrive. Tomorrow is going to be a long day as we want our presentation to go smoothly. There’s nothing for us to do until morning, though. So Dell convinces Kaden to take us out for a night on the town. I think that’s a very bad idea, but the rest of the team is in, so I am too, unless I want to stay behind alone. That’s not an appealing thought.

A large Hummer SUV picks us up from the airport and takes us to the hotel that’s building the conference center. It’s off the Vegas strip and is stunningly beautiful with a long circular driveway lined with fountains and a giant lagoon. The amount of money coming into this desert town boggles my mind.

I’m smashed up against Kaden’s side for the thankfully short ride to the hotel and I find myself barely able to breathe. His arm is flung over the back of the seat as he leans over me to speak to Dell, who’s chatting about which of the shows are the best to see. He hasn’t seen the Michael Jackson One show, and everyone agrees it’s a must-see.

As much as I want to see a show, I’m unable to participate in the conversation because every time I inhale, all the air I take in is full of Kaden’s scent. He doesn’t seem to be distracted by being pressed so close to me; it’s as if his leg touching mine isn’t noticeable. I certainly can feel every inch of his body.

I practically bolt from the limo when the back door opens. I trample over bodies, but everyone is so gleeful about the trip no one seems to think anything of it. I catch Kaden’s eyes and there’s a knowing awareness in his expression that tells me he noticed more than I realized on our ride.

It’s best if we stay as far from each other as possible. Too many things can happen late at night when we stay in the same hotel. My only consolation is realizing he’ll most likely be on a different floor from the rest of us.

“Why don’t we meet back in the lobby in one hour? We’ll have dinner, and I’ll see about show tickets,” Kaden tells our group.

The team enthusiastically agrees. A hotel host meets us so we don’t have to go through the usual check-in process. We’re simply handed our keys and we all scatter. We aren’t grouped together, and we all have our own rooms which is nice. I ride up the elevator with a few people in the same tower and we part ways.

The hotel staff split us this way so we get different perspectives from the vast building. We can see how far away the conference center is from different wings. This is all part of the planning process. Which towers will be best to book guests in? What is more important to the attendees? A view? Easy access? Casino access? All of these things are important to work out beforehand. Do they want to build a skybridge from the closest tower so attendees won’t have to go through the lobby? I personally vote yes to that one.

An hour should be plenty of time to get ready before heading down, but it isn’t. I fuss over what to wear. Should I bring out the only dress I brought or save it if we do something with clients? Should I wear one of my business suits? Is it casual? I don’t know.

Dell said it isn’t a work night and we shouldn’t run into any clients. But I stare at my hanging clothes for at least ten minutes, trying to decide. I wear business clothes all the time and I don’t want to waste my one dress if it’s a relaxed night, so I settle on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater. A T-shirt might be a little too casual. I’m self-conscious as I take the elevator back to the lobby with only a couple of minutes to spare.

Dell’s already here but no one else has made it yet. I let out a relieved sigh when I see him in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with an alien on it that says “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” I can’t help but laugh.

“I was agonizing about what to wear. I should’ve asked if it was casual or not. But I only brought so many clothes,” I say as I look at his shirt.

“Hey, it’s gonna be a fun time, not a work night, and I plan on losing a few hundred bucks at the blackjack tables so I’m dressed for comfort,” he assures me.

“I could’ve worn a T-shirt I guess,” I say, hating how much time I spent agonizing over the decision.

“No way. That sweater is hot on you. I never thought I’d see you in pink, but it’s perfection,” he says.

“Pink is my favorite color, but I try to keep my work clothes professional and neutral. I’ve noticed some of the girls wear more colors though, so the next time I go shopping I might spice up my wardrobe,” I say, anticipating doing just that.

“Good for you. I’ve been fighting for casual Fridays for a while, but the boss man is afraid I’ll come to work in something like this,” Dell says with a laugh. “He’s probably right.”

“I hope we work together forever, Dell. You’re a hoot.” I laugh.

“Dang straight I am. People don’t laugh enough, and that’s boring. I decided long ago not to take life too seriously. There are too many heart attacks in the world, and though some might say it’s all about food, I disagree. I think stress is the number one killer. Don’t get me wrong, I take pride in my work, and I definitely like being the best at whatever I do, but life’s too short to let stress get to you, or to take yourself so seriously. Work hard and play even harder. That’s my motto.”

“I’m going to start taking life lessons from you,” I tell him.

He nods as if that’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kaden says as he approaches.

“I’m hurt, Boss,” Dell says. Though he’s not at all.

“Dell might come up with a few brilliant mottos, but he also comes up with ones like what’s on his shirt,” Kaden warns.

“Hey, baby, it’s Vegas, and we all know the rules here,” Dell says with a waggle of his brows.

“Just remember nothing is free and the house always wins,” Kaden warns.

“Yeah, I learned that the minute I put a diamond on my beautiful wife’s finger,” Dell says with another laugh.

The rest of the team arrives and we walk through the casino to a beautiful Italian restaurant. We’re seated at a large table and have two servers. Wine is chosen, along with a slew of appetizers and our entrées. I have a feeling we’re all going to waddle from the place.

It ends up being the most entertaining dinner of my life. This truly is a good group of people. They’ve been with the company for quite some time, and it’s obvious. They joke with each other, know about one another’s lives, and are comfortable with Kaden. They also include me. I’m part of them now.

I realize what a fool I’ll be if I fall into a torrid affair with Kaden. I’ll lose my job, lose this sense of belonging, lose myself. I don’t want that to happen, especially since I have no idea where my relationship with my husband is going. I don’t want to end up alone.

The dinner lasts a little over two hours, then Kaden rushes us from the casino so we can make it to our show on time. We catch a ride to the Mandalay Bay Resort and are led into the VIP section for the show.

Once again I end up next to Kaden. I’m not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, but the longer this night goes on, the more my resistance to the man comes to an all-time low.

The lights flash as we sip drinks and continue to talk until the show begins. I’m utterly mesmerized. Even being incredibly aware of Kaden right next to me, the show is magnificent. It’s the first big production I’ve been to, and being such a Michael Jackson fan, the experience is indescribable. It seems like Michael himself is up there dancing. All the performers do well; it’s so much better than I could’ve imagined. I’m not ready for it to end when it does.

I’m in a trance as we walk from the theatre. I drank far too much, and I’m feeling good. I lean on Kaden as we leave the building. Since the rest of the team hold each other up, no one seems to notice.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as we walk to the waiting car.

“Great! Thank you for taking us. I’ve never experienced anything like it,” I say.

He looks over me for several moments, disappointment appearing in his eyes. I don’t know what he’s upset about. I told him it was a great show.

The laughter continues on the ride back to our resort. It seems I’m the only one feeling the effects of drinking.

“Who’s up for some gambling?” Dell asks with enthusiasm.

A couple of the team members readily agree, but most say they need a good night’s rest.

“I ate way too much food and drank about a gallon of wine,” Jenny says. “I’m going to bed where I can moan and groan on my own.”

Dell laughs. “I’m just getting started.”

“Make sure you aren’t mega hungover tomorrow. It’s a busy day,” Jenny warns.

“I don’t get hangovers,” he assures her. “The trick is Advil and water.” The gamblers take off, and the rest of us move slowly toward the elevators.

I’m very aware of Kaden moving to the same tower elevator I use.

Four of us get into the elevator, but the other two team members get off on the tenth floor. Now it’s just Kaden and me. My heart thunders as I keep my face down, refusing to look at him. I can’t help but think of what happened last time we were alone in an elevator, how hard it was not to jump on him. I have to clench my fists together to keep from attacking the man. I’m being foolish.

The doors ding and I gratefully see my floor number appear. Kaden steps off with me.

“Are you on this floor?” I ask.

He smiles at me, heat and resignation in his eyes.

“Yes.” There isn’t a lot of enthusiasm in his one word answer.

I stop at my door and fumble through my purse, trying to find my key. It seems an impossible task. My hand shakes and I realize I’m a bit more drunk than I thought.

“Allow me,” Kaden says. I finally look at him.

“You really are a beautiful man,” I blurt. His fingers still as he pulls them from my purse, my key in his hand. I see desire flare in his eyes, but I see something else, too.

“As much as I want to take you into this room and give us both the pleasure we’ve been denying ourselves, I refuse to let that happen when you’re drunk,” he says. Should I be offended? I wave my hand at him as he sweeps the key over my lock and my door opens.

He walks inside with me, and I sway toward him. Will I make a big mistake tonight? What is it Dell’s shirt says? Whatever happens in Vegas stays here? It’s something like that.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” I ask. I want him. There’s no doubt, and my defenses are at an all-time low.

“Dammit, Miranda,” he says in a low growl. He grabs hold of me, his arms powerful as they pull me against him. He doesn’t say anything as he smashes his mouth to mine.

It’s a punishing kiss, a frustrated kiss, a fantastic kiss. I push against him, desire flaring inside me. It’s exactly what I want and need — beautiful and sexy. I’m tired of fighting myself. One of his hands clings to my lower back, the other to my hip. His fingers squeeze as his mouth caresses mine. After a moment, the kiss softens. I sigh against his lips as I wiggle against him.

He moves, pulling back from me, and I whimper. I’m pulled into his arms again, cradled against his chest. Maybe he’s taking me to the bedroom. I have a beautiful little suite with a small living room and a bedroom with a door. It’s perfect for a conference attendee who wants to entertain without people seeing where you sleep.

But he doesn’t head straight to the bed. Instead he moves to the couch and unceremoniously dumps me on it. I flop down, nearly falling over. When I’m sitting straight again I glare at him. He glares right back.

“You don’t want me.” I fight how much this hurts.

He leans down, his hands resting on the back of the couch, fury in his eyes. I try to look away, but the power of his gaze makes it impossible. I have to fight tears. My husband doesn’t want me, and now the man who told me he wants me, doesn’t either. There has to be something wrong with me.

“I want you so bad I’m burning up inside. My cock is so fucking hard I’m surprised it isn’t snapping in two,” he growls. My shock at his words has to show in my eyes. I can’t lean away from him. I don’t want to.

“Why then?” I ask, hating how vulnerable I sound.

“I don’t take advantage of women. Just as I don’t coerce them. You are far too drunk to make this decision. When we make love for the first time, I refuse to allow you to blame it on alcohol.”

“I’m not that drunk,” I mutter. That’s a lie. I see two of him.

He leans back, anger seeming to drain away as quickly as it came. He walks away from me and I want to call out to him. Is he going to leave just like that?

But he doesn’t leave. He comes back a couple of minutes later with a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, and two Advil. “Take the pills, drink the entire bottle of water, and the whole cup of coffee,” he says. Well, he demands it actually.

“I’m not thirsty.” I sound like a pouting child.

“I don’t care. Do it.”

He leaves after I swallow the pills and I wonder if he went to his own room. But I hear him behind me. He comes back, his own cup of coffee in hand. He sits down and picks up the phone. It takes a moment for me to realize he’s ordering pancakes and eggs. He’s really confusing me.

“Are you trying to sober me up?” I hate the hope in my voice. Have I decided to sleep with him? I don’t remember when or if I made that decision. But if I’m waiting to sober up maybe I have decided.

“Yes,” he answers. I look at him, knowing there’s desire in my eyes. I hate it. I hate that he sees me this damn weak.

“I’m not sleeping with you tonight. Tomorrow don’t drink,” he warns. It’s definitely a command. I wonder if we’re sleeping together tomorrow. Is that what I want?

The food arrives and I nibble on some while I drink my coffee and water. I’m feeling much better, grateful he insisted on this. The times I went to sleep after drinking as much as I drank this night have led to some pretty miserable mornings.

I grow tired as the food is cleared from the room. Kaden sits with me. We don’t speak and soon I find I can’t hold my eyes open. I fall asleep, feeling safe with Kaden taking care of me.