Luscious Craving (15 page)

I considered for a moment.
“To find balance in my life.”

She choked halfway through a swallow of water. “To hell with that New Age crap,” she snorted. “You need a man in your life.
A man
who’ll make you laugh at breakfast and scream with passion anywhere you like. What about Michael? Would he fit the bill?”

“Michael’s just in town for the tournament,” I explained. “I’m his ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ fling. He’s fun, and he’s good for my equilibrium.”

“Your balance.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh,” she made an unconvinced sound, then grabbed her water bottle and stood up. “I’m sorry to cut this short. Rehearsals start in ten minutes.”

I stood, gave her a hug. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You going out tonight?” she asked.

I nodded, not specifying.

She shot me a wink.

“Try not to lose your balance.”

Good advice
, I thought.

A huge black box tied with a glorious white ribbon was leaning against the door when I arrived home. Even as I was getting out of the car, I saw the unmistakable
Chanel
logo embossed across the top. Briefly, I considered leaving the box where it was, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do that. No woman in her right mind
disses
Chanel
.

I took it inside and set it on the sofa. The eclectic furniture in my living room looked even funkier than usual surrounding that fancy box. But my home was
me
. The box wasn’t. It was what Ash was tempting me to become.

Of course I opened it anyway. I’m only human…I slid off the white satin ribbon. Drawing back the tissue paper, I saw a little black dress gone wild. It was strapless with a black bow at the top of the bodice. The skirt puffed out from the waist with layers of black lace, each exquisitely embroidered. I reached for another item wrapped in tissue. It was a black quilted evening bag. Understated, but with the unmistakable
Chanel
logo on the front. There was one more tissue-wrapped package. I opened it and stared at black lace underwear.
Panties, strapless corset, and a delicate garter belt.

I simply could not help myself. Instantly, my body reacted to the idea of Ash seeing me in these sexy garments.
Anticipation
, I thought once more. All part of Ash’s careful orchestration. He had known how looking at these would make me feel, known I would find it all too easy to conjure up how he felt, himself.

I threw the garments in the box. Then I walked into my bedroom. I wasn’t Ash’s doll to dress up as he pleased. I opened my closet. I would wear what pleased me. I would not do what Ash wanted.

I chose a simple slip dress in a vibrant red, a power color to propel me through the night, left my hair down. I’d had a cobbler remake a pair of red high heels for me. The double line of silver down the heel appeared to match the trim, but a careful incision had been cut into each heel to allow me to insert a folded silver spike. If there was trouble, I could snap the spikes out in seconds.

My
formal
vampire-hunting outfit.

An hour later, as I was finishing my makeup, there was a knock at the front door. Picking up the shoes by the heels, I peeked out a front window. The white stretch limo was parked in front.

“Miss Steele?” asked the driver when I opened the door. “Whenever you’re ready…”

“To go where?”

“I’m afraid I was instructed not to say, Miss Steele.” He backed away to stand by his car, which was already drawing the neighbors’ stares.

Shrugging on the short red jacket that matched my dress, I stepped into my heels and picked up my clutch.

I was as ready as I was going to be. I could only hope it was ready enough.

Ten

There’s definitely something to be said for traveling in style. As the limo pulled up before the
poshest
hotel on the Strip, it was hard not to fantasize about this sort of life all the time. There’s a reason the story of Cinderella has such staying power. We all dream of being transformed.

The place Ash had chosen for our assignation was the
Beijing
, the most exclusive and elegant place in town. The
Beijing
experience, as the ads called it, began the moment you turned off the Strip and into the hotel’s curved drive. It was lined with plantings and statues that looked as if they might have come from the
Forbidden City
. The main entrance was through a building with a pagoda-style roof. The casino, with its eaves slanting upward and decorated with gilded columns and enormous stone temple lions, was visible behind it. Like a swooping dragon, the hotel rose with its two great curved wings. Graceful and elegant, the entire complex seemed to have materialized straight out of ancient
China
.

The driver drew the limo up to the largest arch in the red wall, and a valet in a gold-trimmed coat rushed to open the door. I offered the driver a tip, but he said, “Already taken care of, Miss Steele. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“Thank you. I hope so, too.” I slid out of the limo, remembering how celebrities did it. Swing out one leg then ease out by standing up slowly. That was my plan for the whole evening. Ease out and go slowly.

A second man in an elegant valet uniform opened a door shadowed by the arch. He tipped his hat, and I guessed he thought I was a high roller. My breath caught again when I stepped through the door and into a grand courtyard lit by golden lanterns.

“Miss Steele?” asked a young man who was dressed in a green silk robe that reached to the turned up toes of his slippers.

“Yes.”

He gave a bow. “The gentleman has requested that I escort you to the restaurant.”

I followed him up a flight of stairs that spanned what appeared to be a moat and then entered a building on the far side of the courtyard. I heard the familiar
ching
of slots and with a slight shock realized I was in the casino. For a second I felt absurdly disappointed. And then I was glad. Even here the decor was grand, but that couldn’t disguise the essence: same old games, same old bored faces staring at the lights. I was not in some enchanted dreamland. This was Vegas, and even Ash couldn’t keep reality at bay for long.

“Is this your first visit to the
Beijing
, Miss Steele?” my escort inquired.

“Yes,” I said.

“The restaurant where you’ll be dining is down these stairs,” he said, sweeping his hand toward a gilded staircase that wouldn’t have been out of place in
Versailles
. “Have a pleasant evening.”

“Thank you.”

I walked down the curving staircase, my hand sliding along the gold banister.
Don’t be too impressed
, I told myself.
Forget all the damn gilding and remember who, and what, you’re really dealing with
…

I never finished the thought. I reached the bottom of the stairs where the soft lighting seemed to focus on a spot by a fountain decorated with orchids. I barely noticed the fountain. My eyes locked on the man who stood beside it.

Ash always looked good, but in a tuxedo with understated gold-and-diamond cuff links matching the studs on his shirt, he was gorgeous. His tawny hair fell forward, as if trying to conceal his amazing eyes. He had that nonchalance that had made Sean Connery the consummate James Bond, dashing and dangerous at the same time. And he was standing there, waiting just for
me
.

He turned as I walked toward him. His eyes widened when he saw what I was wearing, but he didn’t comment. He drew me to him, gave me a demure kiss on the cheek. Even that touch sent my senses humming.

“You look lovely, Candace,” he said, his voice rich and resonant.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said, trying to match his casual tone.

He smiled, and I knew my own voice had revealed more than I intended. “Did you have a nice ride?”

I decided to give that double entendre a very wide berth.
“Very nice.
Thank you.”

“I reserved a table for us at The Soaring Crane.”

It was the
Beijing
’s signature restaurant. The Soaring Crane was the kind of place that made food critics cry with rapture and search for superlatives.
Asian fusion in an environment of exquisite beauty with impeccable service.
The review in the paper had blazed with stars and a warning that it could take months to get a reservation.

Ash had really gone all out. And much as I hated to admit it, it was working. He had chosen amazing surroundings and arranged things to make me feel like the most important person to ever enter the
Beijing
.

“I can’t believe you got reservations here,” I said. “I’ve heard it can take months.”

“It does. But there are certain perks offered to residents of the
Beijing
.”

That brought me up short. “You’re living here at the hotel?”

“In one of the residential condos attached to the hotel,” Ash amended. “Buying one enabled me to get a number of my favorite antique pieces out of storage, so I can enjoy them.”

I couldn’t help but be curious. I had only seen a small part of Ash’s precious collection in
San Francisco
, but what I saw was impressive, every item museum-quality.

“Which pieces?” I asked now.

“A few of the Chinese vases, as well as the Egyptian statues and the Rembrandt.”
His mouth twitched as he fought not to smile.
“The etching.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “So you really can invite women to come up and see your etching?”

He laughed. It was that wondrous, free sound. When Ash laughed, I could almost believe, just for a moment, that we could have the future together I once dreamed of.

“I see I’m going to have to do more to impress you, Candace.”

“Oh, you’ve made an impression,” I assured him.

He smiled, and I felt myself smiling back.

“I would like to show you my place sometime.”

I let that one go. Ash hadn’t specified what would happen when we were together tonight. I could only assume he thought matters would see to themselves. But I had no intention of being swept away by Ash again. He wanted to wine and dine me?
Fine.
I’d be more than happy to oblige,
then
bring the evening to a close.

“Shall we go in?” he inquired.

The restaurant was as magnificent as the ads promised. The waiters were dressed in spotless black trousers and vests over white shirts. The only concession to the Asian atmosphere was the yin and yang symbols on their red band ties. We were escorted to a private room. Gauzy curtains gave a view of the rest of the restaurant but shielded us from the curious.

“May I?” Ash asked, and put his hands on my shoulders to draw off my jacket.
The gesture, so ordinary, so familiar, nearly undid me.
How many times had he undressed me as I stood before him trembling with need? That, in a nutshell, was the problem. Ash’s every gesture set off some sort of erotic reaction in me, as if I had been hardwired to desire him.