Interest in the first workshop exceeded Riley’s expectations. What she’d planned to take place in the tattoo bay of Thorn Tattoo during the hours before the shop opened had morphed into a full on class. Thirty professionals, all with their own equipment, inks, and practice canvases, would need more space than Thorn Tattoo could offer.

They needed to go bigger.

“We’re in Vegas,” Giovanni said with a shrug when she brought it up. “Convention center of the world, the city dedicated to sin and excess. All I’d need to do to find a place willing to accommodate us is step outside the shop and shout. Someone’s bound to answer.”

Riley crossed her arms, but said nothing.

“Here. I know a few places already that held a couple low-key gatherings for artists. Sometimes traveling artists do private sessions. Lemme get in touch with my people, and I’ll set something up that’s going to work, okay?” Giovanni was all confidence, but Riley couldn’t bring herself to trust him entirely. Giovanni hadn’t given her much of a reason to. He was brash and impulsive, and easily influenced by his emotions. Trusting him to book a room suitable for a workshop like what they were putting on gave her reason to worry.

Thorn Tattoo was counting on their performance for the next quarter.

“I’m not sure that I—”

“You’re going to trust me.” Giovanni had an uncanny ability to predict what she was about to say, as though they’d known each other for years. Riley blinked and shook her head slowly. “Here, let me put your fears at ease. We need a conference room big enough for at least thirty people. We need plenty of power to support the machines, and we’re going to need audio/video capabilities. We’ll need long tables, a lot of them, likely fifteen, for our guests. We’ll need a venue comfortable with letting all of us in with our bulky equipment, needles, and power supplies.”

Just because Giovanni was listing off every item on her checklist didn’t mean that he’d stick to it, Riley told herself. Something would get under his skin, make him lose his cool, and drive him toward an impulse that couldn’t be trusted.

“I think that—”

“Trust me, Riley, please.”

Riley’s lips parted, but she had no more words to say. There was something heartfelt and stunning in the way Giovanni spoke that came across as utterly sincere. She folded her hands on her lap and nodded, relenting control.

“You won’t regret it,” Giovanni said with a flirtatious wink. Riley pressed her thighs tighter together and looked away, refusing to give in to him.

One day she’d learn how to stop feeling the things she felt for Giovanni. Until then, all she could do was ride it out and hope it didn’t cause her any lapse in judgment.

* * *

The Royal Caravan Casino Hotel was stunning. Located in the heart of the strip, it spared no luxury. Carved marble stairs led up to its split-level conference halls, and Riley traversed them in wonder as Giovanni paved the way forward without a second thought.

Did luxury like this become standard after a while? Riley couldn’t imagine ever getting over the grandeur of some of the casinos on the strip. The bright lights, the elaborate interiors, the staff in finely fitted suits, and the exotic twist around every corner gripped her and refused to let her go. It was so much different from the sleepy shores of Maryland. Riley was sure that even the finest building there couldn’t hold a candle to the establishments Las Vegas boasted.

As much as she hated to admit it, Giovanni had done a damn good job at picking a suitable venue. She hadn’t even seen the conference room yet, but she was sure that it was going to suit all their needs.

Their footsteps weren’t the only ones to echo down the hall. Guests came and went, some of them dressed to the nines and stunning, while others wore plain T-shirts over faded jeans. The dichotomy was staggering.

Both she and Giovanni fit into formal casino wear. Giovanni, as always, wore one of his suits. Silver cufflinks flashed at his wrists and his hair was brushed back but no less messy for it. The tight beginnings of curls captivated Riley, try as she might to ignore them.

She was wearing a dress. It was far from some of the crystal-encrusted cocktail dresses she saw on their way in, but it was designer, and it was more than respectable. Growing up with her grandparents, while they didn’t have a lot of money, Riley never wanted for anything. When she’d moved back to the States to live with her father, she’d had a hard lesson in what it was like living paycheck to paycheck. Choosing to go to Princeton didn’t take a huge toll on her finances thanks to academic achievement grants and scholarships, but joining a sorority had been costly and the girls, while nice, constantly judged her for her cheaper and second hand clothes. She’d vowed then that she’d never let someone judge her based on her chosen attire.

The skater dress she wore had a high neckline covered in lace, and while it was simple, it was feminine and suitable. Riley had worn it to work that afternoon, and she didn’t regret her choice now. Sticking out in a place like this felt like a nightmare, and she didn’t want to be zeroed in on because she’d failed to dress appropriately.

Giovanni stopped outside a set of double doors. The placard next to them read 1023 in gold script, even the text a sign of luxury. Gingerly, he turned the knob and opened both doors at the same time exposing the room within.

It was gorgeous.

There was no furniture presently set up, but the floor space was generous. At the front was a podium and a long desk, and Riley looked up to examine the projector locked to the high ceiling. In lieu of a large screen, the back wall was painted a satin white. There were hookups for different kinds of equipment and Riley was sure they’d be able to figure out how to set up a live camera. With a group the size they had, projecting Giovanni’s work as he went over principles on a practice canvas would be easiest.

Crowding around a man doing precision work with needles wasn’t a great idea.

“So?” Giovanni asked triumphantly. “Did I deliver? You can start singing my praises any time now.”

“It’s… it’s good,” Riley admitted. “I’m actually really impressed.” She stepped past him, entering the room to look around. The decorations were sparse, but the construction was stellar. High arched ceilings met with beautiful columns that lined the perimeter of the room. As she stepped forward, the click of her heels echoed through the place. “And all of this was within the budget I gave you, including access to the tables we need and whatever forms we might need to sign off on?”

“Under budget.” Giovanni strutted into the room, hands in his pockets and chin held high. The gorgeous color on his neck from his tattoos and the pop of design peeping out from beneath his sleeves were the sole indication that he was anything different from the high rollers who came in and out of the halls here. “I rolled about two-hundred-and-fifty dollars back into our budget for supplies, so we can afford those good synthetics after all. Artificial skin often holds ink poorly, and the more expensive we can go, the better it’s going to be for us. The whole idea is for this operation to be reputable, right? The added bonus is it makes us look damn good holding the workshops here instead of crammed into the shop. This way, we won’t need to restrict the workshop to when we’re closed or try to accommodate customers at the same time.”

It was such a drastic change from the man she’d met several weeks earlier that Riley was shocked. She blinked and turned to face him, but it was a mistake. Giovanni looked flawless in his suit, surrounded by finery. Head held high in pride, victory sparking in his eyes, he was at his most attractive.

Riley forgot what she was going to say.

“Riley?” Giovanni arched a brow. “Hello?”

“Yeah,” she said, hoping that she was agreeing with something her logical mind would value.

He gave her a strange look, but made no other comment. Instead, he turned away from her and started to walk the outskirts of the room. Riley took the moment to pull herself together.

Neither of them talked about the kiss on the shop floor, just like neither of them talked about the kiss in the office. If Riley didn’t have the bruise on her arm to prove it, she almost would have written those events off as wet dreams. She had no idea what Giovanni wanted from her, and if she was being honest with herself, she had no idea what she wanted from him, either. All Riley knew was that she wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Her job was the most important thing to her. Keeping her place at Thorn Tattoo meant honoring Amanda’s memory and living the dream in the best way she knew how.

Letting Giovanni get between her and that goal wasn’t going to happen, so Riley pushed thoughts of him to the back of her mind and let herself live in limbo while he teased her every day simply by existing.

Since moving to Vegas, he was all she thought about when she unwound after work with a glass of wine and the buzz of a vibrator between her legs. Giovanni and his greedy kiss, the taste of his mouth, and the memory of his hard cock as it pushed against her stomach.

Riley felt like she could use a glass of wine right that second.

“So we’ll set up tables in rows, like in a science class,” Giovanni called to her from the front of the room. He gestured at the floor. “All of them symmetrical, all with plenty of space for the guests to set up shop and get comfortable. I’ll have more than enough space up here at the desk, so I’m not going to need any extra space. All we need to worry about is figuring out how we’ll set up the camera, right? I think Ben said he has one we can use. I’m not going to ask him what he uses it for, so I’d suggest wearing gloves if you’re the one handling it.”

The crude humor dragged Riley out of her fantasies, and she rolled her eyes. “Is that really necessary, Gio?”

“Hell yeah!” he laughed, and the sound rolled off his tongue carefree. Riley’s heart stirred, and her chest tightened as desire pulsed through her. Hearing him laugh and seeing him smile made her want to see that side of him more.

Giovanni wasn’t all muscle and grit. Beneath his hardened exterior was a man with a sense of humor and a heart. Riley wanted to know that man better.

“Well… good job on the room,” she said. “It’s a great pick, and I’m really impressed that we got it under budget. We’ve got it reserved for the appropriate date and time?”

“Yup. We need to show up three hours in advance to set it up, but it’s going to be all ours for the duration of the workshop. The conference room rental agents here say that there’s usually always a room of this size available given a week’s notice, so if this one goes well and there’s enough interest in a follow-up, we can book here again. I think it’s well worth it.”

Riley was inclined to agree, but she didn’t voice her opinion. Instead, she took some time to inspect what she could see of the cords hanging from the projector. It was far overhead, but could be lowered via controller. It looked like there was an HDMI hookup, so as long as she could get her laptop positioned, and then hook the camera up to feed into it, she figured they’d be good to go.

“You think those cables are going to work?” Giovanni asked, seeming to read her mind again. He made his way over and stood close to her, a shape in her peripheral vision. Riley knew she couldn’t trust herself to look at him any more closely than that.

“Yes,” she said. “They’ll be fine. I’m hoping we’ll have the equipment we need. Ben needs to pull through.”

“He will.” There was no lack of confidence in Giovanni’s voice. “He’s a good kid, and I trust him. I’m not worried for a second, and you shouldn’t be, either.”

Goosebumps ran up Riley’s arm, and she turned her head in shock to find that Giovanni had put his hand there. His thick fingers curled against her skin, and he guided her gently from where she stood back to the double doors. People streamed back and forth from the hall, and as they did, Riley realized why that was—the corridor with the conference rooms linked the Royal Caravan Casino to its hotel counterpart.

Instead of turning right down the hallway to go back the way they came, Giovanni directed her left.

“Hey,” Riley said softly, “I’m pretty sure we came from the other direction. If we’re going to get back to where we parked….”

“You’ve never been to a casino before, right?” Giovanni asked. “Or at least, never in a Vegas casino? They’re a breed all on their own. Born and raised here, but I’ve been across the country to different tattoo conventions, and I can safely say that there is no casino like a Vegas casino.”

Riley’s ears burned. How did he know about that? As far as she was aware, Antonio hadn’t given Giovanni access to her work history. Was she really that out of place here, or were they talking about her after hours?

The thought that she might be on Giovanni’s mind outside of work thrilled her.

“No. I haven’t been in one before.”

“Then let me show you what it’s all about,” Giovanni said with a wink.