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quiet type who bit her lover’s shoulder when she came.

Then Perry smirked. If the guy could make her come. He took another pull off the beer and

walked out onto his balcony, his pulse quickening when he heard their voices on the other side of the wall.

“We had a lot of good things going, Jane. Let’s give it another try.”

Perry rolled his eyes, then strained to hear her response, but it was too low.

The sound of her balcony door sliding closed let him know they had gone back inside.

To seal the deal?

Perry realized with a startling clarity that he was jealous. Jealous that someone else would

get close to Jane before he could show her that he hadn’t meant what he said…that they could be friends…

And more?

With that disturbing thought rattling around in his head, he retreated to the living room and forced himself to stare at the television. But subconsciously he was keeping his ears perked for any sounds of physical contact next door. The thought of that guy cajoling her into bed made his skin crawl. Jane deserved better than that.

He woke up in the wee hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, his television a static

“Off Air” picture. Perry dragged himself up and stumbled to bed, wondering if Jane’s guest had slept over. All was quiet next door as far as he could tell. Was she curled up next to her ex, her hair spilled on the pillow?

He fell into a fitful sleep, and when his alarm sounded, he still felt groggy. A shower

revived him, but he couldn’t shake the disgruntled feeling from the previous night.

He was pouring a cup of coffee when he thought he heard Jane’s door opening and closing.

He yanked up the mug, grabbed his briefcase, and headed to his door, driven by the

unexplainable need to know if what’s-his-name had spent the night, had wormed his way back

into Jane’s life in time to squander her money.

He walked into the hallway and relief bled through him to see only Jane standing there

locking her door. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she returned.

She was wearing snug jeans and a blue ringer T-shirt, plus sneakers, and her ever-present

ponytail. He glanced over her figure with appreciation, then he noticed her suitcase and frowned.

“Going somewhere?”

She straightened and looked up at him. “If you must know, then yes. And actually, I have

you to thank.” “Me?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You’re the one who made me realize just how boring my life is. But

now I have the money to change that.”

He couldn’t very well protest. “Where are you going?” To visit an old aunt, he hoped.

She grinned. “I’m flying to Vegas.”

He frowned. “Vegas?”

“That’s right.”

“With that guy James?”

“No.” She lifted her chin. “All by myself. To see if the city lives up to the commercials. To have a blowout weekend of pure, unadulterated fun.” She picked up her suitcase.

“That’s not a very big suitcase.”

“I don’t plan to be wearing much,” she said cheerfully. “See you later, neighbor.”

Perry stood stock still, watching her walk away, her ponytail and rear end swinging. Damn.

“W-wait,” he called, locking his door and hurrying to catch up with her on the stairs. “Are

you planning to gamble?”

“Yes,” she answered, trotting down the stairs happily.

“But do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, do you know how to gamble?”

“Nope,” she said as they reached the parking garage. “But I’m going to try everything.”

“Vegas can be a dangerous place,” he warned.

She opened her car door and tossed her suitcase inside. “I hope so! Bye.”

Perry stood helplessly and watched her drive away. Because of the stupid things he’d said,

she was going to Vegas to do God knows what, unaware that there were hordes of professional

con men out there who would see her coming a mile away.

Any man who had sisters was sensitive to the trouble naive young women could

unwittingly find themselves in, especially if they were looking for a little attention.

After all, Perry thought with a frown, men were basically jerks who were driven by the

need to satisfy their own selfish desires.

It takes one to know one, Brewer.

Rankled, he climbed into his SUV and loosened his tie, his mind swirling with possible

scenarios. Someone could slip a mickey in her drink. Rob her. Assault her. Or charm her into

bed. Spend her money. She could come home broke…injured.

Or with a disease…

All because of what he’d said.

Perry set his jaw, then opened his cell phone and called his office. Theresa answered on the

first ring.

“You’re late.”

“I’ve decided to take that vacation after all,” he said. “I’ll be back in the office Monday

morning.”

“Mind if I ask where you’re going?”

“I’m going to Vegas.”

Jane had never flown first class before—it was like traveling in a private coach, with flight attendants at your beck and call, and more food and drink than she could possibly consume. But even the in-flight movie couldn’t keep her mind off the words she’d spoken with such bravado to Perry Brewer. She wouldn’t be wearing very many clothes? She wanted to try everything in

Vegas? She hoped it was dangerous? The words had spilled out of her mouth as if she were a

different person.

Was it, she wondered, the voice of her inner wild child that Bette Valentine had told her

was dying to get out?

Over a glass of pinot noir and a dish of warm nuts, she thought of James and shook her

head. He had arrived on her doorstep with a lame apology for his behavior and thought he could convince her to pick up where they’d left off.

She’d allowed him to drink a glass of wine and make a play for her affections.

But when he’d suggested that they give their relationship another try, she’d told him

unequivocally, irrevocably, absolutely no. James had been shocked, then angry. And then he’d

recovered his composure and told her that she could call him when she got lonely.

It was then that she’d decided that she wasn’t going to get lonely—that she was going

somewhere far away from Atlanta for that wild, anonymous weekend she’d dreamed of.

But as the wheels of the plane touched down, her heart hammered against her chest at the

thought of living up to her rash words.

Was she really prepared to hook up with a complete stranger?

Her cell phone rang while she waited for a taxi. She glanced at the screen and smiled—it

was Eve—then connected the call.

“Hi.”

“Where are you?” Eve asked. “I’ve called a dozen times.”

Jane wet her lips. “I’m in Vegas.”

“Vegas?” Eve sounded incredulous. “Las Vegas? You’re joking.”

“No. I decided to come here for the weekend.”

“Wow, I never thought—I mean, that’s great, Jane. You should do something…”

“Wild?”

“I was going to say fun. Are you with James?”

“No. I’m alone.” She couldn’t decide if that sounded brave, or pathetic.

“Wow.”

“Is everything okay there?”

“Uh…yeah. I was just wondering if maybe you’d heard from Liza.”

“Liza? No. Have you?”

“No…not exactly.”

“What exactly?”

“I’ve had a couple of hang-ups from a private number on my home phone.”

“The lottery commission said we’d be getting lots of calls. Maybe you should go ahead and

change your number.”

“But these calls had music playing in the background—the Ramones.”

Liza’s favorite group. “It’s probably just a coincidence. If it were Liza, why wouldn’t she

have said something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s in trouble.”

Jane sighed. “We can’t help her, Eve, if we don’t even know where she is. Liza’s a big girl.

And she’s the one who walked away from…everything.” From her friends.

“You’re right, of course,” Eve said. “You’re always the voice of reason, Jane.”

Then Eve laughed. “Which is why I can’t believe you’re in Vegas! What are you going to

do out there by yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Jane said cheerfully. “Spend a lot of money, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Eve said, sounding perplexed. “Where are you staying?”

“At the Bellagio.”

“Wow. When are you coming back?”

“Sunday night,” Jane said, suddenly eager to end the call. “Here’s my taxi, gotta run.”

“Okay. Well…be careful.”

Jane said goodbye and disconnected the call, wondering if her friend’s reaction was out of

concern, or the fact that Jane had done something so out of character?

She climbed into the taxi with her overnight bag and tamped down a spike of

apprehension. Maybe she was getting in over her head.

Her nervousness mounted during the taxi ride to her hotel, as she got a close-up view of the

soaring casinos and clubs, their neon signs and lights impressive even in broad daylight—she

couldn’t imagine how frantic the atmosphere would be at night.

As for the Bellagio hotel itself, the fountains alone took her breath away, with series of

columns of water spraying into the sky, then falling like rows of dancers, only to rise again in another brilliant explosion.

Even the water in Vegas had pizzazz.

Walking into the hotel lobby, she felt like an awestruck schoolgirl. The centerpiece was an

incredible Dale Chihuly glass sculpture, a riotous explosion of fused and intertwined flowers and vines so delicate in appearance that they defied the material they were made from. The piece was spellbinding, more beautiful even than the Chihuly pieces she’d seen on display in the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. At the time she wondered that individuals could afford to own a Chihuly

piece privately.

And now, Jane realized suddenly, she could. The notion was still mind-boggling.

In addition to the sculpture, the lobby featured a conservatory and garden, soaring ceilings

and levels that seemed to extend forever. She felt small and out of place in her casual clothes, holding her tiny overnight bag. Everyone

around her looked like money—women wore designer dresses and high heels, men wore

sport coats and western boots or expensive dress shoes. Self-consciously, she stepped up to the front desk to check in, but the pretty dark-haired desk clerk smiled warmly, putting her at ease.

“Welcome to Las Vegas,” the woman said. “Are you here on vacation?”

Jane nodded. “The reservation is under Kurtz.”

“Are you traveling alone, Ms. Kurtz?”

Jane nodded again.

The woman winked. “Probably not for long.”

Jane blushed. She hoped the woman was right.

Looking up from her computer screen, the clerk said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Kurtz, but your suite

isn’t ready yet. How about a complimentary drink in one of our lounges?”

“Actually, I need to do some shopping and…maybe have my hair done.”

The woman smiled wide. “The hotel salon is renowned, and they can usually handle walk-

ins. And you’re in luck—we have some of the best shopping in the city right here in the hotel.”

She handed Jane a brochure and indeed, every major designer seemed to have a presence. The

knowledge that she could buy for herself all the clothes and accessories she’d coveted when

she’d bought them for the talk show’s wardrobe was still more than she could get her mind

around.

“Thank you,” Jane said in relief, grateful for the guidance. She felt out of her element here, where everything seemed bigger, brighter, and louder. The clerk gave her directions, then took Jane’s suitcase for safekeeping.

Jane followed the directions to the salon, but when she got to the entrance, she hesitated.

Then, as if the powers that be knew she needed a push, the doors slid open on their own. She

walked in tentatively, wondering why she had such a difficult time succumbing to the

ministrations that she applied to others on a daily basis. Was it because she feared the outcome would be less than favorable, and that her appearance couldn’t be improved upon?

A beautiful blonde wearing an aqua-colored lab coat walked up to her. “How can we help

you today?”

Jane sighed. “Can you make me look like you?”

The woman smiled, angled her head, and put her finger under Jane’s chin. “I’ll do even

better—I’ll make you look like you.”

Flashing back to her encounter with Bette Valentine, Jane wondered how other people

could look at her and see something that she herself couldn’t see.

As she followed the woman to a workstation, Jane desperately hoped that her inner wild

child was marginally more attractive.

PERRY COULDN’T get a flight to Vegas until noon. He fretted in his cramped seat in

coach for the entire trip knowing that Jane had a half-day head start on him.

A naive tourist could get into a lot of trouble in Vegas in a very short time.

And a naive tourist intent on finding trouble…he didn’t even want to think about it.

When he landed, he phoned Theresa as he strode through the airport. “Did you find her?”

“She’s registered at the Bellagio. I booked you a room.” Her voice rang with disapproval.

“Thanks. And don’t judge me.”

“You’re chasing a woman you barely know across the country right after she won the

lottery—what am I supposed to think?”

“It’s not the way it looks. Besides, you were the one who insisted that I take a vacation.”

“Just do the right thing.”

“Goodbye.” Perry frowned and disconnected the phone call, then joined the taxi line. He

hadn’t been to Vegas in ages, but it didn’t take long to fall under the influence of the energy in the air and become acclimated to the increased pace.

His adrenaline was pumping, too, at the thought of seeing Jane again, although he hadn’t

yet thought of a good explanation as to why he had followed her.