Las Vegas: Scandals: Prince Charming for 1 Night

The bastard.

She resisted the urge to slap him across his sanctimonious face. For the insult. For all the insults she’d endured over the past twenty-four years. For snubbing her her entire life. For abandoning her mother, leaving the poor woman pregnant and alone with only a token cash settlement as compensation for a ruined life. But mostly for being a selfish, womanizing, egotistical prick.

She resisted, but her control was hard-won. She started to shake with bitter fury. And a stinging hurt that refused to be ignored.

“Why I’m here is none of your business,” she snapped, glaring at his hand on her arm. She’d dealt with plenty of men like him. Bullies covering up their insecurities with threats of violence. “Let me go, or I’ll call security.”

He finally let her go. And leaned his anger-reddened face right into hers. “It is my business if you’ve come here to make trouble for me and my family.”

“Trust me, you are not worth the bother,” she spit out, keeping her chin up, shoulders straight. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her.

“You’ve been asking questions about my daughter,” he accused. “My real daughter.”

More pain sliced through her chest. How could he say that? She fought to keep tears from filling her eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Darla’s disappeared. I’m worried about her.”

He snorted. “More like upset she’s not there for you to leech off.”

She curled her hand into a fist to keep from smacking him. But maybe she should give in to her first impulse. A fist in that hypocritical, self-righteous face sounded really good about now.

“Get out of here,” her father sneered. “Go back to that strip club where you belong. And if I catch you asking questions about my daughter again, I’ll hit you with legal action so hard you’ll be living on a grate for the rest of your life.”

With that, he turned on a heel and stormed off.

She stood watching his wake disappear into the crowd, fighting to control the trembling in her limbs.

Okay, then.

Another sentimental family reunion. Always a fun time.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up to see Conner. Her tongue tied in knots and she couldn’t speak. Because suddenly, she had a blinding insight.

Conner Rothchild was just like her father.

Oh, not abusive, or overtly insulting. Nothing like that. But he was the same kind of man. With the same kind of lifestyle. And the same kind of prejudices. Against people like her.

Conner was ashamed of her.

That was why he’d insisted she come to the event as his assistant. Why he’d accepted a date with Ms. Paris Vogue. Why he hadn’t told his brother, or anyone, the true nature of his relationship with Vera. If you could call two days of monkey sex a relationship.

“N-no,” she stammered. Shook her head. “I mean yes. I’m fine. Really. Go back to your date.”

“I don’t want to—”

“Conner, please. I’m tired. There’s nothing more to learn here. I’m going home now.”

He frowned, managing to look concerned. Maybe he really did care. Yeah, that she’d blow their cover and reveal herself to his blue-blood family. She’d seen him with his famous hotel magnate uncle, Harold Rothchild, and his young trophy wife. Wouldn’t they get a kick out of—

No, stop it. Conner wasn’t like that.

Except he was. And now finally both of them knew it.

“I’ll call the limo for you,” he said.

“No. I’ll take a cab.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He pulled his cell phone from his tuxedo pocket.

“All right, fine.” She didn’t want to argue. She just wanted to be gone from this nightmare of a night.

“The driver has the pass code for the gate.”

For a second she didn’t know what he meant. Then it hit her. He expected her to go back to his home.

Can you say no way in hell? But she decided not to tell him that. “Yes, I remember.”

“Good. I’ll tell Hildy to be expecting you.”

It occurred to her that this must be a huge relief for him. Now he wouldn’t have to come up with lame excuses as to why he needed to drop his assistant off after he dropped off his date. She’d just be waiting for him at home. Preferably in bed. Preferably nude.

No wonder he hadn’t protested.

She went to take off the ring. “You should take this.”

“No, keep it for now,” he said.

She couldn’t argue or he’d know she had no intention of going to his place. She’d just have to send it back to him tomorrow.

“All right. Go.” She made a shooing motion. “Your friends will be wondering where you are.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look…”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Go find your lady.”

“She’s not—”

But Vera was already walking away, not listening. Back straight, head up, she told herself as she threaded through the throng. How many of these strangers had witnessed Maximil-lian’s tirade against her? It didn’t matter. She just had to make it to the door without being stopped. Pretend you ‘re on the catwalk. You ‘re not naked, they are.

“Vera?”

Oh, God, now what?

She resolutely ignored the unfamiliar male voice and went right on walking.

Long fingers grasped her shoulder. “Vera, wait.”

She suddenly remembered the thief. She opened her mouth to scream. But then she recognized who it was. From pictures. In her living room.