Aiden had been here before, because he led me through the casino to the elevators in the back, tugging on my hand a few times as I got distracted by the flash of lights and ringing bells. I’d never been inside a casino before. Not a real one. I went on a cruise with my parents once and had snuck into the casino on the boat, but it had been nothing like this. This was pure elegance, sleek and decadent on a grand scale.

Aiden hit the number of the floor and the elevator rose smoothly. We walked out into a lobby that could have belonged in any high-rise office building. Approaching the attractive blond sitting behind the front desk he said, “Aiden Winters for Dylan Kane.”

She gave a sharp nod and rose to her feet. “Yes, sir, if you’ll follow me? You can leave your bags here. I’ll see to them.”

I don’t know what I expected of Dylan Kane. I thought he’d be older, for one thing. He looked like he was about Aiden’s age and he carried the same aura of absolute authority. Confidence. And handsome. Not as handsome as Aiden, but with his dark hair, tanned skin and eyes the same fresh, crisp green as a Granny Smith apple, he was striking.

He and Aiden shook hands and patted each other on the back of the shoulder in that weird half hug thing men did with their friends before Aiden introduced me. Dylan shook my hand firmly, looking me in the eye, not bothering to hide his curiosity.

Not once did his gaze stray to my breasts or my legs. Young, powerful, and not a creeper. This guy must be beating them off with a stick. Then I noticed the wedding ring on his left hand and had to wonder what kind of woman he’d married.

Dylan gestured for us to sit. “Are you free for dinner? Leigha made reservations and Axel and Emma are coming too.”

“Sam and Chloe?” Aiden asked. Dylan shook his head.

“Out of town. So, do you need anything to eat, drink? I know it’s past lunch time for you.”

“Lunch would be great,” Aiden said. “I didn’t eat on the plane, and Violet took a nap. She could probably use some coffee and I think we’re both hungry.” He looked at me and I nodded.

“I’d love coffee,” I said with fervor, making both men laugh. “Someone called me before I had time to get breakfast or caffeine, and told me I had twenty-five minutes to get packed for the weekend.”

“I’m surprised he’s not dead,” Dylan said with a laugh.

“So am I,” I said, smiling back at him.

Aiden made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “If I gave you too much advance notice, you would have found a way to get out of it.”

Dylan’s eyes bounced between us, intrigued, and I raised an eyebrow in assent. “Probably. I was about to email my resignation when you called.”

Dylan laughed, thinking I was kidding. Knowing that I wasn’t, Aiden said, “Don’t even think about it.”

Dylan was charming and funny, and it was interesting to see Aiden with a friend. We were here for business, but he was more relaxed with Dylan than he was in the office. It helped that they’d hammered out most of the details of their agreement and were past the negotiation stage. I took notes when Aiden needed me to, and tried to pay attention, but I was bored by mid-afternoon, buzzing a little after multiple lattes, and restless from sitting.

Dylan’s assistant had checked us in at some point during the meeting, and as we rose to leave, she handed us key cards and told us a room number. I wasn’t ready to be alone in a hotel room with Aiden. Not when we were expected to go out to dinner in a few hours. He must have felt the same way because he pocketed the key cards and suggested, “Do you want to see a little of Vegas?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m not much of a gambler.”

“Neither am I,” Aiden said, “unless it’s poker. I like to put my money where I can control the outcome.”

“Then what is there to do?” I asked.

What I knew about Las Vegas could fit on the back of a postage stamp, and it was summed up with one word. Gambling.

“I was thinking we’d go shopping,” Aiden said.

I wasn’t going to argue with shopping. The black SUV was waiting for us when we walked out of the hotel. Aiden helped me into the back and we were off.

I was no stranger to high-end window shopping. Buckhead had almost every premier store you could imagine. Dior. Fendi. Gucci. Armani. Tiffany. I didn’t actually buy things in those stores, but I’d walked past them enough that seeing them here in Las Vegas didn’t faze me.

Not until Aiden came to a stop in front of Agent Provocateur. My eyes went wide, and I said the first thing that popped into my mind.

“You can’t tear underwear from this store. Do you have any idea how much it costs?”

Aiden’s dark eyes slid to me, and he said under his breath, “I think admitting that I do know how much it costs is a bad idea.”

“Probably,” I mumbled. “I don’t think—”

Aiden overrode my objections, hooking his arm through mine and pulling me into the store. I’d never seen anything like it. The inside was sumptuous and seductive, all velvet curtains and thick carpet, silk and lace everywhere. A saleswoman approached in a tight pink dress, her garters showing clearly beneath the short hem.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her eyes glued to Aiden, quickly taking in his custom tailored suit, the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. She could smell money, and she looked eager to help him spend it.

I was the subject of her appraising glance a moment later. Her shiny red lips curved in a slow smile. “I have just the thing for you.”

Taking my hand, she led me to the back of the shop, past lingerie like I’d never seen before, straps and buckles and black lace. Bustiers, corsets, barely-there bras and crotchless underwear. Garters and silk in all colors of the rainbow.

I looked back over my shoulder to see Aiden stalking behind us, his eyes taking in all the store had to offer.

The saleswoman stopped at a floor-length silk negligée in deep, smoky lavender. The high neckline, suspended from two delicate silk straps, would leave nothing on display below my collarbones. The back, on the other hand, dipped so low it would expose half of my rear end.

The silk was so fine, so delicate, it would hide almost nothing of the skin it covered. Every contour of my breasts, the peak of my nipples—the silk would mold itself to my body, showing everything it pretended to hide.

I caught sight of the price tag. Over five hundred dollars. I started to object when Aiden said, “Put it in the dressing room.”

The saleswoman nodded. “Certainly, sir. I have a few other things in mind?”

“Let’s see,” Aiden invited. What followed was a deluge of lace and silk. I refused to look at the price tags.

At one point, as he contemplated a bra and thong set of the palest pink lace, I hissed, “You cannot spend over four hundred dollars on underwear, Aiden.”

“I can spend my money on whatever I want, sweetheart.”

The look in his eyes as they moved from the transparent lace to me was so hot I almost bit my tongue before I said, “Well then, you can’t tear them off.”

“Maybe we should just skip the underwear altogether,” he said, so quietly I barely heard him.

I didn’t dignify that comment with a response.

He didn’t try to join me in the dressing room. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

I was relieved.

I was.

I was not the kind of woman who fooled around in the dressing room of a lingerie shop. At least, I never had been before. Aiden did peek, once. I’d barely pulled a short lace slip over my head when he rapped his knuckles on the dark wood trim around the dressing room doorway.

The lace slip was semi-transparent but dark enough that it wasn’t completely revealing. With butterflies in my stomach, I reached out and inched the heavy velvet curtain open just enough for him to stick his head in.

He took a long, slow look from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. At first, I kept my eyes firmly glued to the crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling. It was one thing to let Aiden look and another to watch while he did it.

I risked a quick glance and the tight set of his jaw, the look in his eyes, had my lower belly clenching.

My nipples hardened under the soft lace. Aiden’s eyes heated as he watched.

In a choked voice he said, “Are those thigh-high stockings?”

I glanced down at the stockings I’d pulled on when I’d dressed on the plane. I always wore thigh highs, the kind with lace at the top and sticky rubber on the inside to hold them up. I couldn’t stand garter belts, and I didn’t like the way pantyhose felt around my waist. I didn’t usually think of them as particularly sexy—they were just part of my work wardrobe. No one ever saw them but me.

“Yes,” I said, “why, do you like them?” I don’t know where I found it in me to tease him. The flare of his eyes at my words sent a rush of heat between my legs.

“I like them.” Squeezing his eyes shut tight for a long moment he said, “Try everything on and, if it fits, we’ll get it. I’m staying out here before I do something I’ll regret.”

I tried everything on and, as ordered, divided the haul between two hooks on the wall of the dressing room—things that fit and things that didn’t. From the items that fit I chose the two least expensive. Once again dressed in my suit, I pulled back the heavy velvet curtain and handed Aiden the two hangers. He took one look and shook his head.

“I know more than that fit.” Scanning the dressing room, he said, “Which ones?”

“Aiden, you can’t. It’s not appropriate. This isn’t—I can’t—”

Why was this obvious only to me?

He shouldn’t be buying me anything. Taking me away for the weekend on the pretense of business was bad enough, but spending this kind of money buying me lingerie was just… Inappropriate didn’t begin to cover it.

I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t his mistress. I didn’t want to force the issue, especially not there, in the dressing room, surrounded by silk and lace, my head clouded with thoughts of sex and Aiden.

I tried again. “Aiden, this is fun, but it’s just for this weekend. You know that. I can’t let you waste your money on all of this—”

I waved my hand at the thousands of dollars of lingerie hanging on the wall behind me. I opened my mouth to speak, and Aiden pressed his finger to my bottom lip in a shushing gesture that immediately pushed me from helpless confusion to ice queen.

Before I thought better of it, I pulled my head back and nipped the tip of his finger.

Hard.

Aiden groaned low in his throat and took my chin in his hand. His touch was light, gentle. I could have stepped away. I don’t know why I didn’t.

His warm brown eyes studied mine and, beneath the heat of lust, there was more. Emotions I couldn’t decipher. He pressed his lips to mine once before moving them to my ear. “You make your choices, and I’ll make mine. I’m buying everything that fits. If you don’t want it, you don’t have to keep it. My buying it doesn’t obligate you to anything. We’re starting with this weekend. Then we’ll see.”

The touch of his warm lips to my cheek contrasted with his practical words, mesmerizing me. If he’d given me some vague condescending reassurance, I would have smacked him down. But this? Before I could think of what to say, he pointed at the two hooks on the wall and repeated, “Which one?”

Deciding I wouldn’t sacrifice my dignity over an argument I couldn’t win, I pointed at the hook on the left, holding the lavender gown the saleswoman had chosen when we arrived, the dark lace slip Aiden had watched me try on, four sets of bras and panties, a bustier and matching thong in petal pink, and a slip and matching robe in a deep plum.

I refused to consider the total of the price tags. I didn’t want to know. If Aiden wanted to waste his money, that was his problem. I had too many of my own already.