He lowered his face to hers, but when he was a hairsbreadth from her lips, she stepped back. The smell of her swirled around him—feminine with just a hint of lavender.

"I'm sorry," she said, eyes glued to the floor. "This is just a little…"

"Weird?" he said, tone harsher than he'd intended.

"I was going to say fast," she snapped. "But I guess I know how you feel about it now."

"No, I—"

"Look, don't worry about it. I'll just go back to my room." She smiled, but it looked forced. "Let us never speak of this again," she intoned, trying to make light of the situation.

"Look, Lizzy, let's talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, voice higher pitched than normal.

And before he could figure out how to stop her, she was gone in a rush of heels and sparkling fabric.

Ian paced around the suite, wandering from room to room of the beautiful penthouse like a caged animal. After twenty minutes, it finally sunk in that she wasn't coming back. His stomach dropped at the realization. And he had to get out of the room.

The bar of the swank Vegas hotel was just as upscale as the rest of the place. He sat on one of the bar stools and muttered, "Johnnie Walker Blue, on the rocks," to the bartender when the man leaned in to get his order.

He sipped his scotch and tried to get his mind around what had just happened. Lizzy was here. His best friend's little sister. The girl who'd followed him around with googly eyes until she got old enough to know better.

Oh, he'd thought about Lizzy before. Hell, it would have been impossible not to once she matured. She'd always been a special girl, nice to everyone she came into contact with, smart and sassy. And for a time, he'd been able to think of her like a little sister. But that changed when she grew up.

Ian missed most of Lizzy's high school years—he'd been at college, then off to build his fortune. It was like she was a kid one day, then the next she'd suddenly become a woman. A very attractive woman, who still had the brains and personality she'd always possessed.

"Ian, right?"

Ian looked up at the woman who'd spoken to him. Pretty. And familiar. One of the women who was sitting with Lizzy. "Hi, there."

She smiled, and it suddenly struck him how pretty she was. And how utterly disinterested he was.

"It's Crystal. Already done with your dinner with Lizzy, huh?"

He opened his mouth to tell her to mind her own business, but her expression stopped him. Mischief danced in her eyes, but worry touched her too. "I suppose so," he said, instead.

"Lizzy’s a really good person," she said, and he opened his mouth to agree but she waved him off. "You get that, as any idiot could see. But she’s also petrified of you."

Unable to find a response to that, he just gaped at her. Why would Lizzy be petrified of him? "Lizzy’s not scared of me. She has no reason to be."

"Doesn’t she? Look, I’m going to be straight with you here. And if you make me regret it, I’ll hunt you down and make you wish you were never born. Got it?"

Words escaped him again, so he just nodded.

"I’ve known Lizzy since we were freshmen in college. And I’ve never seen her look at anyone the same way she looked at you tonight. So quit being a pansy and get your ass upstairs." She stared at him, gaze as level and hard as he’d ever seen in the boardroom. "Tell her how you feel. Because it’s written all over your face."

She pivoted on her toe and headed toward the bar entrance. He threw back his scotch and chased her.

"Wait! I need a room number."

* * *

Lizzy paced her hotel room before opening the wine that had been waiting for her on the table when she arrived. She needed to calm her nerves, so she poured half a glass.

The suite wasn't as nice as the penthouse, but it was still lovely—far nicer than any hotel she'd ever stayed at, anyway. It boasted a large bathroom with sparkling finishes, a table and chairs and a desk. And on the other side of a half wall, a large, luxurious king size bed.

One she'd be sleeping in alone.

What a day. Not only had she decided to go to Vegas for a night full of fantasy, her fantasy man had actually made an appearance. Wanting a night away from herself—from her not-so-exciting everyday life—had seemed so harmless.

So much for that.

Shock still reverberated through her. Ian. He was actually here—her fantasy man? What were the odds? She didn't know, but it didn't really matter. Ian was here, and had obviously wanted to spend the night with her. And now she'd ruined it. Or he'd ruined it. Either way, a night of amazing sex with her dream man had just slipped through her fingers.

No way. She couldn't let that happen.

Wine would give her courage. She poured another half glass and considered her options. She'd go to his room. What if he had someone else there? She shook her head at the thought. No. Ian wouldn't have replaced her that fast. And if he had...well she'd just make up an excuse for being there. An item she misplaced and perhaps forgotten there? Yes. That would work.

The knock on the door startled her, and she nearly sloshed wine out of her glass. She glanced through the peephole and her mouth grew as dry as the desert that surrounded the hotel.

The knob turned easily, and the door opened silently. She stared up at Ian, unsure of what to say. Finally, she settled for, "Hi."

"Hey Lizzy. Can I come in?"

She stepped back and gestured for him to enter, wine glass still in hand.

"I'm sorry for saying that this was weird." His hands were shoved in his pockets, and for a moment she flashed back to the teenager she'd crushed on. Old jeans full of stylish holes replaced the slacks that covered his muscled legs. A T-shirt dedicated to some old band hid his chest instead of the dark blue button up dress shirt that so nicely complimented his eyes. His dark brown hair was longer, ragged around his ears.

She shrugged and walked past him. The wine glass tinked as she set it on the table. She kept her back to him as she spoke. "It was a little weird, I guess. I just…weird isn't the word a girl wants to hear in that kind of situation."

"Ah hell, Lizzy." He settled his cool hands on her shoulders, and she shivered. "Weird wasn't what I was feeling—not exactly. But you know me and my mouth."

"Oh I don't know, you're usually a little more silver-tongued than that."

"Hah. I'll take that as a compliment coming from you." His voice had smoothed, lowered. And her stomach clenched in response. "You were always the convincing talker." He rubbed her shoulders gently.

"I'm not feeling terribly clever right now," she muttered. "Why are you here, Ian?"

"Someone reminded me that when you want something—really want it—sometimes you have to take a leap. Go for it. Put your pride on the line." He took a deep breath, so close to her she could feel the air move. Skin prickling, her own breath caught in her throat.

"Is that what you're doing here, Ian? Taking a chance?" Voice soft, she had to fight not to lean back against him.

"Yes. I want you, Lizzy. So goddamn much." He cleared his throat. "I'm not asking for forever. I wouldn't presume…Ah hell. I'm just asking how you feel about tonight."

Her heart beat in her chest, so loudly to her ears she was almost surprised that Ian didn't hear it and ask if she was okay. He was just asking for tonight. Could she do that? For Ian?

She turned around and Ian's hands fell to his sides. She met his gaze, and his dark blue eyes swirled with emotion. He was close, so close. Lips suddenly dry, she licked them automatically, and watched his eyes follow the motion.

"Okay," she said softly.

Ian lowered his mouth to hers, and every worry flew from her head. His lips were firm against hers and he kissed her with a fervor that she hadn't expected. A small sigh escaped her and he growled and pulled her to him.

Body hard against hers, she could feel his erection against her stomach. The remaining doubts flew from her. He wanted her. Maybe as badly as she wanted him. Spurred by that knowledge, she opened her mouth to him and glided her hands up his solid chest to wrap them around his neck.

He slid his tongue into her mouth and teased her with it. Unable to hold back, she rubbed her body against his, a slow movement, teasing, but firm. He stiffened against her, then moved his mouth to kiss his way down her neck until he reached her collarbone. Licking and nipping with his mouth, he moved his hands to her dress straps and slowly pulled them off her shoulders.

His gaze was so intense when he stepped back that she glanced away again.

"Look at me, Lizzy," he said.

She gathered her courage and looked back at him. His expression was still fierce, but there was a tenderness there that made her ache for his touch.

He reached around and unzipped the back of her dress, while never taking his eyes off of her. Then he tugged on the straps.

"Are you sure?" she said, words flying from her lips before she could stop them.

"Hell yes, I'm sure." He gave her the grin that had always sped her pulse. It didn't fail now, either. Her heartbeat raced at the sight of that sexy smile.

"The lights?" She didn't want to turn them off, not really—she wanted to see him. Lizzy just wasn't certain she wanted him to see her. What if he was disappointed? She didn't have the perfect body of the women he'd dated, of Elise. Her breasts were far too small, her legs too short—she barely reached five feet two inches tall. Elise had been model-height, nearly as tall as Ian when she wore heels.

"I want to see you, Lizzy."

Her breath caught at the emotion in his words. He really did want to see her. She raised her eyes to his and took a couple of steps back. Then, quickly before she lost her nerve, she tugged her dress down, letting it pool on the floor at her feet. Stepping out of the dress, she walked over the fabric, careful not to catch it on the heels she still wore.