From her vantage point in the VIP section, Carmen Pyre took in Incognito, the newest nightclub to open on the infamous Strip. The grand sweeping staircase and elegant chandeliers gave the club an upper-class feel, but the staff’s uniform of leather and lace put off any notions that this was a run-of-the-mill club. An unholy crimson light set the mood and transformed the club into a decadent hell that encouraged them to indulge in their darkest fantasies. The atmosphere reeked of mystery and carnal delights, but she felt none of it.

Her nails dug into her leather clad thighs. It felt as if someone had picked up the blueprint for the dream house she planned with her late husband and invited her to do a walk-through without warning her that they picked up her discarded plans. Every detail was achingly familiar. She could feel it, those fucking tears just beneath the surface. The night she came up with the concept for Incognito played out in her mind in vivid detail. She’d always had a thing for costumes and had Vinny’s full support in role playing. One night while ‘serving’ Vinny as a flight attendant, she came up with the idea of a club that would encourage people to conceal their identities and take advantage of the “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” mentality. Incognito was her husband’s last project, one he never finished before he was murdered.

You look beautiful, baby.

Her body locked as Vinny’s familiar, reassuring voice drifted through her mind. She hung her head as memories cascaded through her. She spent a year and a half trying to outrun the memories of her husband. Now that she was back in Vegas, there was no escaping him. He was stamped into every square inch of this place. His voice whispered in her ears, stirring up a flurry of pain and loss that caused her chest to contract with the need to scream. She had been looking forward to attending this event, to let loose and forget her troubles. The Strip was her playground, an environment where she had thrived in since she was sixteen. She’d hoped to be invigorated by the manic energy from the crowd, not be reminded of everything she had lost.

A striking couple made their way in her direction, distracting her before she lost her shit. The woman had honey blond hair, a slinky black halter dress, and a black lace mask with diamonds highlighting silver blue eyes. The man at her side was built like a linebacker and wore a dashing tux and black mask that made him seem even more dangerous than normal.

Lyla’s eyes lit up as she rushed forward with a big smile. “You look great!”

Carmen hugged her cousin like a child in desperate need of reassurance. Lyla was the sister she never had and a beacon of hope in her otherwise dreary world. It had only been a few hours since they parted ways, but she wouldn’t take anything for granted, not anymore. She pulled back and felt her pain recede as she took in Lyla’s sparkling eyes. Her cousin was happy. No one looking at her would guess she’d been viciously attacked by a psychotic killer or that the high-necked gown she wore covered gruesome scars. The image of Lyla lying lifelessly in a hospital bed would be etched into her memory for all time.

She dredged up a smile and gave Lyla’s ass a sharp smack. “You too.”

She switched her gaze to Lyla’s husband. Gavin Pyre, CEO of Pyre Casinos and former crime lord of Las Vegas, glowered at her. She had known Gavin for nearly a decade, long enough to see the good, the bad, and the downright evil in him. Gavin was on her shit list at the moment, despite Lyla’s reassurances that her new husband wasn’t abusing her.

Vinny’s murder kicked off a series of bloody events, which left Uncle Manny dead, Lyla mutilated, and Gavin in prison. She spirited Lyla out of Las Vegas, and they went on the road. Four months ago, Gavin showed up in Montana and forced Lyla to marry him while also announcing that her father had died from a heart attack. They returned to Las Vegas, and she moved in with her grief-stricken mother. She hadn’t recovered from losing Vinny and now had to cope with another staggering loss.

“Carmen,” Gavin said, voice tight.

She gave him a cool look to show that he didn’t intimidate her. “Gavin.”

“Don’t get into trouble tonight, Carmen.”

Her temper, which had begun a slow burn the second she saw him, ignited. “Excuse me?”

“You look like—”

Lyla clapped a hand over her husband’s mouth. “You look hot, and you’re going to cause a commotion. He’s nervous.”

She flipped her hair and adjusted her boobs in her lace bustier. “He should be.” There was a two-inch gap between the bottom of her top and the skintight leather pants. A glance in the mirror before she left the house told her that she looked sexy, confident, and in control. No one would see beneath the slutty exterior to her shredded insides. The white mask she’d been handed before she entered the club added just the right touch to her outfit.

Gavin yanked Lyla’s hand from his mouth. “I just want to get through tonight without drama. Got me?”

His orders never failed to get on her nerves. He ordered everyone around. Vinny had always deferred to him. How Lyla put up with his autocratic ass, she would never know. The only way she could handle him was to view him as an overbearing, annoying big brother. And like any irritating sister, she did her best to irritate the hell out of him.

“I’m not making any promises,” she said.

His eyes narrowed into slits. He opened his mouth to threaten her but was distracted when a man joined their group. The newcomer was dressed in a scarlet tux, cape, and red mask. He kissed Lyla on the cheek. Carmen glanced at Gavin, the possessive psycho. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t go for the guy’s throat, which piqued her interest. Vinny was the only man Gavin allowed to touch Lyla. Who was this guy?

“You look great,” the stranger said to Lyla and turned toward her. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

Dark green eyes glittered through the slits of his mask. The man gave her a once-over that was curious rather than slimy. She was used to getting a reaction out of men, but he wasn’t giving her one. Maybe her outfit wasn’t slutty enough?

“This is Vinny’s widow, Carmen,” Gavin said.

Widow. The label smacked her in the face, causing a combination of pain and anger to tangle in her belly. Before she could snap at Gavin, the man in the red mask distracted her by taking her hand. Before she could pull away, he kissed her knuckles. It was a dignified, old-world gesture.

“My condolences,” he said.

She shot Gavin an irritated glance before she focused on the mysterious stranger. “Thank you. And you are?”

“Marcus. I’m the new COO.”

Gavin’s new partner. “Vinny’s replacement. Nice to meet you. You finished Incognito. It looks great.”

“I’d like to talk to you if you don’t mind.”

She blinked. Talk to her about what? “I’m here to have fun and keep Lyla company. I don’t want to discuss my husband.”

“We don’t have to discuss him. We can talk about something else,” Marcus said.

Before she could think of something to say, Gavin interrupted. “Marcus, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Marcus nodded to her. “I’ll look for you later.”

“For what?” she asked empty air since Marcus and Gavin had lost themselves in the crowd.

“Marcus is blunt and a bit strange, but I like him,” Lyla said.

“But why would he want to talk to me? As Gavin said, I’m just a widow.” God, she wanted to punch him, but that was nothing new. She slapped him the night she found out Vinny had been murdered, but she doubted he would let another assault pass without consequences. “As if that’s all I am, a dead man’s wife. Jesus, I’m a person, dammit.”

“You know Gavin has no tact,” Lyla said consolingly.

“And no manners.”

“Let’s get a drink.”

Right. A drink. That’s what she should have done the second she walked into the club.

“What’s the special tonight?” she asked the well-endowed bartender.

“We have a drink called the Hookup that has tequila and—”

“I’ll get two.”

“You got it.”

She watched the bartender’s tits jiggle as she paraded along the bar. “Who’s your doctor?”

“Dr. Hosen.”

Carmen recognized the name and mentally filed it away for future reference. Years ago, she got a boob job to make her waist appear smaller, and now … now, she didn’t give a crap about her waist. The Playboy look she’d favored since high school didn’t do it for her anymore. On a recent trip to the salon, she dyed her platinum locks black, and now she was considering the unthinkable—going back to her natural breasts.

“Yours look amazing,” the bartender said.

“They’re okay, but they don’t look as soft as yours. Let’s see.” She reached out, and the bartender did the same so they could compare.

The bartender nodded. “I’d say they feel about the same.”

Carmen jumped when someone kicked her in the butt. She glanced over her shoulder and found Lyla glaring at her. “What?”

“Carmen, this is Alice, the community outreach coordinator.” Lyla gestured to a woman standing nearby. “Alice, this is my cousin, Carmen. She’s coming with us to the dog shelter next week to volunteer.”

She was transfixed by the hideous, ill-fitted satin dress Alice wore. She looked like she just left an 80s high school prom. All that was missing were the braces and a metallic scrunchy in her hair. She looked as out of place in Incognito as a kindergartener at a strip club. Alice’s mousy brown hair was pulled back in a halfhearted, messy twist, and her amber earrings didn’t match her outfit.

“Nice to meet you,” she said and shook Alice’s hand. “You work for Pyre Casinos?”

“Yes. I just moved from Utah.” Alice’s eyes flicked over Carmen before she flushed and looked away.

“Mormon?” Carmen prodded, wondering if this woman was from a strict religious background that didn’t allow modern clothing or makeup. It would explain her horrible fashion choices.

Alice frowned. “No. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Surely, Alice owned a mirror.

Lyla shot her a repressive look. She sipped her drink as she listened to them talk about the volunteer events that Alice was organizing. She didn’t look tough enough to be in Las Vegas, much less working for Gavin.

“How long have you worked at Pyre Casinos?” she asked.

“A year. My position was created after…” Alice flushed and looked away.

“After Gavin went to jail and my husband and Manny Pyre were murdered?” Being politically correct had never interested her. It was a waste of time.

Her eyes flared with remorse. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Alice,” Lyla said, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad your position was created. It’s great that Pyre Casinos created the Pyre Foundation and are giving back to the community.”

“Yes,” Alice said, clearly relieved. “Mr. Pyre has given me free rein really. I’m so excited that I get to make a difference through his generosity.”

Alice’s transparency was alarming. She was a goldfish among great white sharks. The men in this city would eat her alive. Alice wouldn’t last long if she continued to broadcast her feelings on her face. She had to give this poor girl lessons on how to be a badass bitch.

“Here come the masses,” Lyla said.

Carmen looked up as the VIPs descended into the club from the grand staircase with their entourage and a swarm of paparazzi. One figure stood out to her among the others. “Kody Singer’s here?”

“The movie star?” Alice asked, going on tiptoe to get a better look.

“He better not come by me.” She didn’t need the drama tonight.

“Why?” Alice asked.

“He used to drunk call me all the time, that asshole. It used to piss Vinny off.” Kody caused a shitload of problems in her marriage.

Alice’s mouth dropped. “You used to date …?”

“He was a week-long fling when Vinny and I were on a break.”

“She broke his heart,” Lyla said. “Kody is a pretty nice guy for a movie star. Come on, Carmen, he was really romantic.”

“He doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,” she said sourly and switched her attention to the next VIP. “Douchebag in the house! Carter Raymond is here. Seriously, when’s the last time he even played football? What a fucking show-off.”

“You know him personally?” Alice asked.

“When your husband is COO of Pyre Casinos, you’re obligated to go to a lot of events. You meet people.” Before, it had been a game to acquire famous contacts. Now, she couldn’t care less about who she brushed shoulders with.

“You stay around long enough; you’ll know celebrities personally,” Lyla said.

“Me? Celebrities?” Alice let out a nervous giggle-snort. “I don’t think so.”

Carmen signaled to the bartender with the great fake tits for another Hookup cocktail. “Getting celebrities involved in your community projects would be great publicity.”

“I’m having a hard time recruiting volunteers, much less a celebrity.”

To gain the media’s attention, Alice needed celebrities to join her community events. Tonight, there was an exclusive pool to manipulate and exploit. Carmen eyed the crowd and decided it was time to call in some favors.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she finished her drink.

She sauntered into the crowd and headed for the VIP tables. She nodded to the publicists, agents, and managers who recognized and waved her through. Unfortunately, the first celebrity who noticed her was Carter Raymond, a football player who retired in his prime and had been riding the sponsorship wave ever since.

“Yo, Carmen, you looking for me?”

He placed his hands on her hips as if he had every right to touch her.

“No, I’m not,” she said flatly.

“Aw, girl, don’t be so cold,” he chided and flashed a smile that did nothing for her.

She patted his chest and gave him a patronizing smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you won’t be sleeping alone tonight. I can practically smell the hoes making their way to you right now.”

“And if they aren’t what I want?”

“That’s your tough shit,” she said and slapped his hands away.

“When you’re ready, Carmen, you know where to find me!” he called after her.

She didn’t acknowledge his statement. Men with money and power couldn’t stand being denied something they wanted. Of course, once they acquired that something, they lost interest. That’s how men of Carter’s caliber worked. She wasn’t interested in being someone’s plaything. If anything, she wanted to be the one pulling strings and calling the shots. She was a fucking millionaire. She didn’t have to dance to anyone’s tune, especially not a selfish asshole with an ego.

The crowd erupted into excited screams as the stage lights flared, revealing a popular band. She tried to absorb the excitement emanating from the crowd. Tonight was about living in the moment. Drinks, superficial talk, and a good time. That was what she came for.

“Carmen!”

She kissed both cheeks of Bridgette Mackee, an up-and-coming actress. “Bridgette, it’s been a long time!”

“It has! Where have you been?” Before Carmen could answer, Bridgette continued, “You know Gavin Pyre, right? Can you introduce me?”

Bridgette looked like a woman on a mission. Clearly, she was ready to take her career to the next level and was tired of her good girl image. Being seen with a notorious billionaire would give her the publicity boost she needed, but she chose the wrong target. Gavin was no one’s fool, and despite the fact that she opposed Lyla’s marriage, she wasn’t going to allow Bridgette to sabotage it.

“He’s married,” Carmen said, and when Bridgette shrugged that off, she added, “to my cousin.”

Bridgette blinked and drew back. “Oh.”

“Why don’t you try Carter?” Carmen suggested. She didn’t fault Bridgette for her plan. If she had to play up to a man for a couple of hours to skyrocket her career, why not?

Bridgette glanced at Carter who was getting a lap dance. “I hope she isn’t underage, or he’ll get more publicity than all of us.”

Carmen grinned and glanced around the VIP section. “How about The Punisher?”

Bridgette followed Carmen’s line of sight to the hot UFC fighter. “You know him?” Bridgette breathed.

“Yup. Let’s go.” She hooked her arm through Bridgette’s and made her way to The Punisher who stood when she approached. He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Sorry about Vinny,” he said.

“Thank you.” She gave him a hug before she stepped back. “I want you to meet my friend, Bridgette. Bridgette, The Punisher.”

The Punisher gave Bridgette a quick, appreciative once-over and then took her hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bridgette said and gave Carmen a look that said I owe you.

Well, that was the point. She would let Bridgette’s career mature before she called on the starlet. Carmen excused herself and moved onto the next celebrity, a young politician who could be president one day. For now, he was being a good boy and hanging with his crowd—businessmen, lawyers and the like, but she sensed his restlessness. He made a subtle play for her while the look in his eyes was anything but. She would bet money he was a regular at an exclusive gentlemen’s club and had a discreet mistress.

She moved onto an old friend of Vinny’s, an eccentric film director named Phoenix. She enjoyed his crazy hand movements and overzealous explanation of his current “art.”

“The Pyre Foundation is doing some great things,” she said when he paused to take a breath. “Would you mind talking to some kids about your art?”

“Kids?” Phoenix repeated as if she was asking him to talk to hyenas.

“You say you want to inspire people. Why not the next generation? Long after you’re gone, they’ll be talking about how you prodded their muse and dedicated their movies to you, the great one.”

She could see that the idea appealed to him. She gained his tentative agreement and moved onto the next … and the next. Despite being on the road for over a year, her social skills hadn’t suffered. She could bullshit with the best of them—flattering, tugging strings, and slapping down those who deserved it. This was her area of expertise and why she excelled on Vinny’s arm.

At some point, she felt eyes on her. She glanced up and saw an attractive man watching her. He had the hot All-American thing going on. He had classic, pleasing features with dark hair, thick brows, and long lashes that framed big green eyes. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties. Everything was perfect from his styled hair to tailored slacks, black button up, and red silk tie. She had always been a sucker for a well-groomed gentleman.

“You’re a pro,” he said when he reached her.

“At what?” She waited for a sleazy line like, “Making me want you.”

“Networking. You know how to handle difficult clients.”

Okay, that was unexpected. She took a closer look at him and detected a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Who says I was networking?”

“I do it for a living. I know another pro when I see her. What’s your aim?”

“Aim?”

“What do you want from them?”

She inwardly bristled. She wasn’t sure if he was accusing her of something. “Who are you?”

“Marcus Fletcher.”

Her stomach clenched. The COO she met earlier. At some point, he ditched the red mask and cape for a spiffy suit. How could she have known he was hiding a handsome face under the mask? “Oh.”

“What’s your aim?” he asked again.

She considered ignoring him, but technically, they were his guests, so she admitted, “I’m helping Alice.”

“Alice?”

“Your community outreach coordinator.”

“I know who Alice is,” he said patiently. “What are you helping her with?”

“Outreach.”

“By talking to celebrities?”

“By asking them to attend events for better publicity.”

Marcus smiled. It looked good on him—natural and genuine. She didn’t want to like him and definitely didn’t like the low curl of attraction that wriggled to life in her belly. She hadn’t felt a thing for any man since Vinny died and didn’t like that she felt a pull toward this man.

She took a step back and wasn’t prepared when he took her hand.

“That’s nice of you to help Alice,” he said.

She looked pointedly at the hand clasping hers. “Yeah, well, I’m busy so—”

“What do you think of Incognito?”

She glanced at the dance floor, which was a writhing mass of beautiful people moving to the beat, and stated the obvious, “It looks like a success.”

“Is it what you imagined?”

She looked back at him. “Excuse me?”

“You were involved in the initial concept. Is this what you imagined?”

She was nonplussed. “How do you know that?”

“Vinny had extensive notes.”

Vinny had been a compulsive notetaker. He couldn’t remember anything unless he jotted it down. What had Vinny included in his notes about Incognito? He wouldn’t have mentioned her fondness for costumes, would he?

She searched his deep green eyes. “What kind of notes?”

“All kinds.”

Something about his tone betrayed him. He knew about the costumes. She jerked her hand out of his and tipped her nose in the air. “You should give me any notes that aren’t relative to your position as COO.”

“They’re extremely helpful,” Marcus said. “And you came up with a great concept.”

“It may have been a great concept, but you took it to the next level,” she said with grudging admiration. A part of her resented the fact that Marcus had been able to execute Vinny’s plans so flawlessly. “It came out better than I imagined. I’m glad you finished his project.”

“If you have time, there are other projects I’d like your input on.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re behind some of the most successful restaurants and nightclubs that Pyre Casinos has turned out in the past five years.”

No one knew how heavily she had been involved in Pyre developments. She enjoyed playing the blonde bimbo. Only Vinny saw through her act and tapped her intellect, something she loved him all the more for. He talked to her about everything. She enjoyed helping him flesh out concepts. The fact that Marcus uncovered a piece of her that no one else knew about sent a streak of unease through her.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own,” she said and took a step back.

“You aren’t what I expected.”

Even though she shouldn’t take the bait, she stopped. “What did you expect?” Damn Vinny and his stupid notes.

“I’ve seen pictures of you, but you’re more beautiful in person.”

She was used to outrageous flattery, but the way he said it was more like a statement of fact rather than a come-on. What was Marcus Fletcher’s deal? Why was he deliberately singling her out? He had Vinny’s job, so what more did he want?

“I heard you went on the road with Lyla after her accident,” Marcus continued. “I’ve wanted to meet you both.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to meet the woman who could bring Gavin to his knees.” He cocked his head to the side. “And I wanted to meet the woman Vincent Pyre worshipped.”

The tears hit without warning. One moment, her eyes were clear, and the next, they were flooded. Her insides, which had been empty a moment before, were suddenly swamped with grief. She reached for an anchor. Her hand touched something solid, and she gripped out of blind instinct as she tried to control her pitching emotions.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said quietly.

How he closed the distance between them so quickly, she didn’t know. She was too focused on trying to control her emotions that threatened to consume her. This was a nightmare.

“I heard about your father. That can’t be easy after losing Manny and Vinny. I’m truly sorry for your losses.”

None of the condolences she heard tonight affected her the way Marcus’s did. It was the sincerity and sympathy in his words that made her feel as if he were slicing into her chest with a dull knife. She twisted her hand in his shirt, threatening to rip buttons. He didn’t try to stop her. He slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair and cupped the back of her neck with a familiarity that shocked her. She jerked her head up and stared at his blurry image through the tears.

He massaged her nape. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—”

The intimacy of his touch and the way he addressed her as if he knew and cared about her felt wrong. He didn’t know her, and she didn’t want to know him. She pushed away and with great effort, stuffed her emotions into the empty, yawning pit to deal with later. Under normal circumstances, she would have sailed into Marcus, but she was barely holding herself together. Did he do it on purpose? Marcus might have earned Gavin and Lyla’s approval, but he hadn’t earned hers.

She stalked away. Within a matter of minutes, Marcus destroyed her composure and shoved her toward a precipice she’d been avoiding all night.

I’m still here, baby.

Pain threatened to bring her to her knees. He wasn’t here, and she would never hear his voice again. She could feel the breakdown coming, like a freight train with no brakes careening toward the station. She scanned the crowd for Lyla, but it would be a miracle to find her in this crush. Her hands rose to grasp handfuls of her hair. She opened her mouth to scream—

“Carmen, I’ve been looking for … What’s wrong, babe?”

Large, warm hands grasped her shoulders. She dropped her hands from her hair and stared into Kody Singer’s soulful brown eyes.

“You okay?” Kody’s hands smoothed down her arms, which were covered in cold sweat. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

It’s gonna be okay, baby.

She dropped her face on Kody’s chest to hide the way her face crumpled. It wasn’t going to be okay. It would never be okay. She took a shuddering breath and then another, trying to get a hold of herself.

“Did someone do something to you?” Kody asked in a low rumble.

She shook her head and couldn’t hold back the hitch in her breath. The sound of the festive crowd clashed with her devastated state. Grief drowned out everything around her, filling her world with black loneliness.

Kody wrapped her close, and she let him. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, and she didn’t care. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Vinny?”

Would there ever be a day when she would hear Vinny’s name and not be affected by it? She nodded because there was no sense in denying it. Kody stroked the line of her spine.

“I’m sorry, Carmen.”

For some reason, his condolences didn’t have the same impact that Marcus’s had, and for that, she was grateful. She ran a finger under her eye to brush away the last bit of wet and looked up. “Thanks. I’m—”

“Still hurting,” Kody finished and trailed a finger over the curve of her chin. “Lucky bastard.”

She let out a choked laugh, and he grinned. During a break with Vinny, she had hooked up with Kody after seeing Vinny in a club with some bitches. She decided to give Vinny a taste of his own medicine and went on a trip with Kody, which had been highly publicized. Even after she broke off the affair and got back with Vinny, Kody continued to call her and let her know how willing he was to replace Vinny.

The yearning in his eyes made her inwardly grimace. She’d known he wasn’t the type for a wild weekend. He might be a Hollywood leading man, but he wasn’t a playboy. He was a good Southern boy at heart and apparently, a one-woman man. Kody was a great guy and not for the likes of someone like her. She would drive him insane.

Belatedly, she realized what a spectacle she had made of them. Kody always had paparazzi following him. She glanced around and didn’t see anyone snapping photos, but she spotted Marcus. He was still perched on the edge of a table, unabashedly staring. She resisted the urge to flip him off. That was probably what he wanted, the fucking bastard.

“I was hoping to see you tonight,” Kody said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes. A lot has changed.” Too much in too little time. She felt like life was giving her the beating of a lifetime. She got knocked down and managed to get on her hands and knees only to get kicked in the face. She brushed a hand over his bicep, which was definitely larger than the last time she saw him. “You’re doing superhero movies now?”

“Yeah. You a fan?”

She hadn’t indulged in a superhero movie, but maybe she was due. “I haven’t seen your latest movies, but I’ve seen the posters. Your career is really taking off. Good for you, Kody.”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

She was here to forget her reality for a few hours, but hooking up with Kody would be a disaster. When she broke her self-imposed celibacy, it would be with a guy who knew the score. She didn’t have anything to offer anyone, and Kody was a relationship man. That was the last thing she needed in her life. “No, I think I need to get drunk and dance.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She cupped his cheek. “I don’t want to see my face all over the internet tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

No. “Yes.”

“If you need to talk, I’m here for you,” he said seriously.

That warmed her shattered insides. She went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”

She eased out of his hold. She came here tonight to take a break from life, and that was what she would do. It was time to do what she did best—party her ass off and leave her troubles behind. Even though she didn’t feel the beat in her bones, she lifted her arms in the air and shimmied through the crowd. She made her way to the bar by squeezing two men’s asses, did two shots off a beautiful redhead, and downed two more before she headed to the dance floor.

She focused on the fist-pumping beat and let it fill her. The alcohol did its job. The pain in her chest evaporated, and she reveled in the smell of sweat, alcohol, and perfume. The press of people was comforting. Hands played over her sweat-slick body as she danced. A guy who couldn’t be older than twenty-three grinded against her. She didn’t discriminate. She wrapped an arm around his neck and swiveled her hips against his erection. His eyes went blind with need, and he kneaded her ass. His touch didn’t evoke a spark of anticipation or excitement—nothing. Had Vinny ruined her for all men? The stranger’s hands slid over her midriff and then traced the waistband of her leather pants.

“Hey.”

Marcus stood in front of her, and he didn’t look so smiley and easygoing now. He looked irritated, and for some reason, that made him more interesting than the guy grinding against her. The boy toy’s hands stopped an inch from her breasts.

“She’s married,” Marcus bit out.

Her buzz disappeared. His words were as effective as a slap in the face. She was dimly aware of the boy toy backing off. Obviously, he thought Marcus was her husband.

“You can do better than that,” Marcus said as he latched onto her wrist and tried to yank her off the dance floor.

She couldn’t believe this guy! She caught sight of Alice watching with her mouth hanging open. She yanked away from Marcus and snatched Alice’s hand, pulling her into the crowd with her. Fucking Marcus blew her high, so she needed a distraction, and Alice provided the perfect opportunity. She would spend the night showing Alice how to live it up on the glorious Strip.

“What’s going on?” Alice hollered.

She stopped in the middle of the crush and faced Alice who looked rumpled and uneasy. “Marcus is being a dick.”

Alice jerked. “A what?”

“Never mind. Dance with me.”

She pulled Alice against her front and began to move.

“What are you doing?” Alice squeaked.

“Don’t think. Just feel.”

She wrapped her arms around Alice, who was as stiff as a mannequin. Carmen moved, encouraging the other woman to lose herself in the music and soak in the atmosphere. Alice did an odd two-step, and her eyes flicked from person to person. She grasped Alice’s face and kissed her. Alice went rigid but didn’t pull away. Carmen kissed her gently, seeking basic human connection and comfort when she felt so alone. She focused on the softness of her soft lips and… was that grape lip balm? Carmen swayed, and this time Alice moved with her, too distracted by the kiss to be uptight. When she pulled away, Alice’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“I-I’m not … I mean, I don’t swing that way,” Alice stammered.

For the first time that night, Carmen grinned. “Me either.”

“Then why—?”

“Look, now you can dance.” She playfully swiveled her hips, and Alice copied before reason returned, and she went stiff again.

Alice stared at her as if she was an ax murderer. “I don’t think this is appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” She laughed and swung Alice around, making the skirt of her ugly dress flare. “You’re in a club called Incognito. We encourage bad behavior.” She gestured to the wall of mirrors surrounding the dance floor. “Behind the mirrors are private rooms you can rent by the minute.”

“By the minute?” Alice echoed, and then her mouth sagged as it hit home. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am.” Carmen accepted a kiss from a passing man without blinking.

Alice pushed the man away and tucked Carmen protectively against her. “You’re drunk. You shouldn’t … This isn’t my scene.”

“I know, but it’s what you chose.”

Alice frowned. “I didn’t choose this.”

“You chose Vegas, and you chose Pyre Casinos. This is an extension of your world, one you have to get used to.”

Alice pursed her lips as she turned her words over in her mind before she gave a reluctant nod. “What do I need to do?”

Carmen leaned forward and whispered, “Live.”

“I am living,” Alice said.

“There’s living and then living.”

“I don’t understand.”

Carmen grabbed Alice’s hand and led her off the dance floor.

“Where are we going?”

“Bar. You need liquid courage,” Carmen said.

“For what?”

“To give you the balls you need to get what you want in life.”

“I have what I want in life,” Alice hollered over the sound of the crowd.

Carmen shamelessly used her body to make a space for them at the bar. “Two Hookups,” she ordered.

“You can order a one-night stand at the bar?” Alice sounded scandalized.

Carmen laughed, pushed Alice onto a stool, and wrapped her arms around her. Alice was definitely a marshmallow and not ready to face the carnal sins that would come her way sooner or later. Innocence wasn’t a part of her world. It had never been. She could spot a prostitute or stripper at a glance, had a breast consultation before she graduated from high school, and made out with her friends so they would be pros with their boyfriends. Nothing was out of bounds.

Alice quivered. Was she getting ready to bolt? Carmen ran her hands over the other woman in a bid to soothe and distract. Alice jerked as if she had been shot.

“What, are you a virgin?” she asked without thinking.

Alice’s red face was all the answer she needed. Carmen stared at her. “Are you sure you’re not a Mormon?” Mormon’s were notorious for staying virgins until marriage.

Alice glared at her and didn’t answer.

“Are you sure you aren’t a lesbian?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are you—?”

“I’m focusing on my career.”

Alice was clearly frazzled and reached out for the cocktail placed in front of her. She took a sip, and her eyes widened.

“This tastes good,” she said, pleased.

Carmen didn’t bother to warn her how potent it was. “Drink up.”

It would be a long night.