Vegas Heat

“Thank you,” she said, thinking the only thing she needed was for Dante to suddenly become a rude jerk, and therefore unappealing. Since she doubted Jeffrey had such a skill in his arsenal of services, she discreetly drew a calming breath and let it out, willing to bet that she was about to be in a highly intimate space with her highly appealing new client.

She slipped her briefcase/purse combination over her shoulder and did her best to hold her skirt in place as she slid inside. The scent of leather and spicy masculine cologne teased her senses even before she brought Dante into focus.

“Mr. Ricci,” she said as she maneuvered a bit to tug her skirt down to about midthigh and squeezed her knees primly together. To Dante’s credit, he was a gentleman and kept his eyes on her face, while she, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice his jacket was missing and his chest and shoulders flexed impressively beneath his finely tailored button-down shirt. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here or if you were meeting me at the restaurant.”

“Call me Dante,” he said.

“Dante,” she repeated. “And please, call me Sonya.”

Jeffrey shut the door, sealing them in the small space that was every bit as intimate as she’d expected it to be. Seconds ticked by in silence, the air crackling with the kind of instant electricity that only happened when two people shared wicked hot, inescapable chemistry.

“Sonya,” he repeated finally in a voice as rich and sultry as Godiva dark chocolate. And she liked her Godiva dark chocolate way too much for her own good, just like this man. “And I came along for the ride,” he continued, “in case you needed further persuasion to join me for the evening.”

She narrowed her gaze on him, reading the message beneath his words. “You thought I was going to back out?”

“You hesitated to accept my invitation,” he said, his brown eyes as rich with intelligence as his voice was with sensuality. “It seemed a good bet that you might decide to cancel.”

“My boss would have had a conniption fit.”

“Otherwise you might have?”

“I’m not beyond admitting that I considered calling you and asking you to reconsider tonight’s meeting.”

Surprise at her frankness flickered across his handsome, chiseled features. “Because you don’t want my business?”

“I do want your business,” she said. “Very much. And I’m both flattered and thrilled that you would believe in me enough to ask for me as your lead counsel.”

“Then why would you cancel this dinner?”

She opened her mouth and then shut it, before saying, “I’m not completely sure I know the answer to that.”

“Try.”

Try. She should have seen that one coming. “You have to know that your account could make, or break, my career. You said we needed to discuss some points before you signed with me.”

“I’d think that would make you eager for this meeting.”

“I know what to expect in an office or courtroom setting. I don’t know what to expect in a Vegas hotel where you intend to show me your version of ‘divine pleasure’.”

He studied her a long moment without a word, or so much as a twitch. “Do you have the contract I reviewed earlier today with you?”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “You want to see it now?”

“Yes.”

She quickly retrieved a file from her briefcase she’d set on the seat beside her and offered it to him.

“And a pen?” he asked.

“You’re going to sign now?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.” She offered him her pen and watched as he signed every spot indicated and then removed a checkbook and wrote out a check before asking, “I thought you needed to talk to me about some particulars before you did this?”

He offered her the pen back. “I do, so let’s talk. Several conditions apply to this agreement being final. Number one, I don’t deal with Michael. I don’t trust the man and you better watch your back with him. I’ve already told him this, but I need you to know this as well.”

“You told Michael you don’t trust him?”

“Yes. And I told him that you will be responsible for coordinating everything for these acquisitions, no matter how big or small, period. The end.”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile. She liked Dante more every second. Michael was such an arrogant, mean person, with more of a God complex than her mother’s surgeon, whom she’d mistakenly dated for all of one week. “I can only imagine how he must have reacted.”

“By silently cursing me and actually believing I couldn’t see it all over his face.” He held out the file with the check on top. “Back to you and me. If we’re in agreement with my terms then it’s official. You’re my counsel.”

“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. Not only had he given her the opportunity of a lifetime, but he also hadn’t made her walk on eggshells all evening. “I meant what I said earlier today. I won’t let you down.” She reached for the file.

He covered her hand with his, his brown eyes darkening to nearly black. “I hope this means you can enjoy tonight without worry.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the words, at the idea of spending hours with this man, being tempted by him. She could have sworn fire slid up her arm and across her breasts. “Yes. Absolutely. Not many clients would do that, either. They’d leave me hanging and on edge.”

“I hope I surprised you in a good way then,” he said, and leaned back in his seat before knocking on the glass behind him. The car began to move immediately. He punched a button that opened a folding compartment in the floor between them that had an ice bucket and open bottle of champagne on top. “You, by the way, surprise me, and that’s not something that happens all that often.” He filled one of the two flutes sitting on the tray.

“I surprise you? How?”

He leaned forward to offer her a flute, and she accepted it, her fingers brushing his and sending a shiver of pure awareness down her spine. “You don’t tell me what I want to hear,” he said. “When I asked if you almost backed out tonight, you didn’t pretend otherwise. That kind of frank honesty isn’t common in business.” He reached for the other flute and touched it to hers. “Let’s toast to new beginnings.”

She swallowed hard. “I have a confession.”

One dark brow arched. “A confession.” He leaned back slightly, studying her. “Already?”

“It’s important,” she said. “For both our protection.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking and I haven’t eaten all day. So if I drink this then one of two things is going to happen. The best-case scenario is that I remember nothing about tonight and most likely make a fool of myself. Worst-case, you’ll have to pick me up off the floorboard because I pass out.”

His lips twitched. “That’s your confession?”

She nodded. “Afraid so.”

His smile was instant and it was a sexy smile. Everything about the man was sexy. “While I wouldn’t hesitate to pick you up if you fell,” he said, “we’ll postpone our toast until after dinner.” He set both flutes aside. “Because I most definitely want you to remember tonight.”

Chapter Three

The ride to the Bell’s Hotel and Casino, which was one of the most elegant understated properties in the city, was a short ten minutes by highway. Exactly the reason that Sonya wasn’t surprised to find Parr’s restaurant to be dimly lit, with a large seating area visible from the entryway and fine art decorating the walls. The floor was an expensive bamboo wood covered with even more expensive oriental rugs. It was just another fancy Vegas hotspot, aside from one unique feature. Thee were six equally spaced, winding black steel staircases on either side of the sitting area.

The hostess, a pretty brunette in a long black dress that might have been conservative if not for the way it hugged every curve she owned, which were many, greeted Dante by name.