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“The Bellagio,” he said the cab driver, then climbed in, hoping to think of something

plausible along the way.

Fancy meeting you here—didn’t I mention I was also coming to Vegas? I was worried that

you would fall prey to some con artist, so I came to look out for you… I couldn’t stand the

thought of you coming to Vegas to hook up with some stranger… Perry pursed his mouth—the

truth sounded so…proprietary. What if Jane wasn’t happy to see him? What if she didn’t want

him to watch out for her?

But he kept telling himself that it was his careless words that had sent her running in search of fun, frivolity, and flirtation. If she wound up getting hurt, it would be his fault.

He walked into the Bellagio and scanned the expansive lobby, hoping for a glimpse of

Jane’s ponytail among the throng of people moving in and out. A pang of panic struck his

stomach—what if he couldn’t find her? She was so slight and so…passive, she could easily be

lost in a crowd this size, swept away…misplaced.

Knowing his thoughts were running amok, he pulled his hand down his face to get a grip.

Then he stepped up to the registration desk, his frown fading slightly at the warm smile of the brunette behind the desk. “Brewer, checking in,” he said.

“Are you traveling alone, Mr. Brewer?”

“Actually…I’m meeting a friend here. Her name is Jane Kurtz. Can you tell me if she’s

checked in yet?”

“Yes, Ms. Kurtz checked in a few hours ago.”

He leaned in and winked. “Actually, my being here is a surprise. I don’t suppose you could

give me her room number, could you?”

She surveyed his suit as if she was trying to deduce his believability.

“Please?” he added hopefully, unwilling to depend on the Pucci tie.

She tilted her head, then checked her computer screen. “Well, technically, I can’t tell you

her room number, sir. But if you like, I can put you in a room very nearby.”

He smiled wide. “Thank you. That would be terrific.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sure Ms. Kurtz will be happy to see you.”

He kept smiling as he handed over his credit card, hoping she was right.

A bellman carried his hastily packed suitcase to his room. Perry tipped the man, then

stepped back into the hall to glance at the doors around his. Two were nearby—one across the

hall and one next door. As he stood there, the door across the hall opened abruptly, and a couple emerged, their arms draped around each other. That meant Jane must be in the other one. He

nodded hello as the couple passed, then retreated to his room to freshen up and change into

casual clothes.

Then, rehearsing what he might say when Jane answered, he emerged from his room,

walked to the remaining door and knocked.

Perry smoothed a hand over the back of his hair, realizing with a start that he was nervous.

When was the last time a woman had made him nervous?

Only because he was afraid she would think he was stalking her and slap him with a

restraining order. But if she was angry, or didn’t want to see him, he would honor her wishes and stay away from her.

It wasn’t as if he was in love with her or anything.

He knocked again, thinking he might have missed her. Maybe she was already in the

casino, playing recklessly and being hit on by every smarmy guy in the vicinity.

The door swung open and he took a step back to see a striking woman with white blond

hair standing there, her manicured hand on a sleek shoulder bag, her hourglass figure highlighted in a black leather miniskirt and a low-cut fuchsia colored blouse. The bare, slender legs ended in sexy high-heeled black strappy sandals.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for a friend of mine,” he began.

“Perry?” the woman asked. “What are you doing here?”

His mind raced, wondering if he’d had the bad luck of randomly running into an old flame,

because the voice seemed oddly familiar. Then he noticed the large cornflower blue eyes, and he blinked in astonishment at the vision of the blonde vixen before him. “Jane?”

She crossed her arms, the movement accentuating breasts that threatened to spill out of her

blouse. “In the flesh.”

“In the flesh” was right.

Perry’s mind reeled as he tried to reconcile his memory of plain Jane Kurtz to the image of

the sexpot standing before him. Her hair was pale, with layers framing her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes were huge, highlighted with long, dark lashes and perfectly arched eyebrows. But her lush curves really threw him for a loop—he couldn’t believe the woman had been hiding that

killer bod beneath khakis and polo shirts. And those legs…God help him.

“Perry, what are you doing here?” she repeated.

“I…I, uh…” He was struck speechless, trying to remember what he’d rehearsed, but he

was utterly confounded. “You look…amazing.” That caught her off guard, he could tell by the

way she softened.

“I do?”

He nodded and swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said, then resumed her stance. “Did you follow me?”

As an attorney, he’d learned when not to lie. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I felt responsible for you going off on some wild weekend where you might

get…”

“Laid?” she supplied dryly.

“Hurt,” he corrected, irritated that she’d so squarely guessed his intentions.

He gestured vaguely in the air. “There are all kinds of con artists out here just looking for someone like you to take advantage of.”

“Someone like me?” She frowned. “Maybe I’m looking to be taken advantage of.”

But the bravado of her words wasn’t reflected in her eyes that, now highlighted with

shadow and liner, were easier than ever to read. Perry gave her a little smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I came out here to have fun,” she insisted, gripping her purse in a way that made him

wonder if she had rolls of quarters—or condoms—inside.

“I know,” he conceded, then wet his lips. The most outrageous idea he’d ever had just

popped into his head. “And I have a proposition for you.”

She looked suspicious. “What do you mean?”

Perry broke out in a sweat along his hairline—this was new territory for him. “I was

thinking…Instead of you hooking up with a complete stranger for the weekend, why not hook up

with…me?”

* * *

was suggesting began to sink in. “Hook up with you?”

Perry nodded and splayed his hands. “Why not? I’m a fun guy. I’ll teach you how to

gamble, take you wherever you want to go, do anything you want to…do.”

Her cheeks warmed at his obvious implication.

“And,” he continued, “you can feel safe.”

Safe? She wanted to laugh. “Safe” wasn’t the word for what she felt when she looked into

Perry Brewer’s bottomless dark eyes. The words “suspicious,”

“tense,” and “petrified” came to mind.

Jane squinted up at him. “You’re offering to tutor me in how to have a good time?”

He leaned on her doorframe and a wicked smile curved his mouth. “I guess I am.”

A sensual shiver slid over her shoulders, but a sense of uneasiness plucked at her. Could

Perry be after her new-won fortune? But the man was an attorney—he didn’t need her money.

The shoes he was wearing had easily cost six hundred dollars. “Wh-what’s in this for you?”

“It’ll make me feel better for my earlier, uh, ungentlemanly behavior.”

Her eyebrows went up. “You mean for saying that I’m ugly?”

He straightened. “I didn’t say that.”

“No,” she agreed. “I think your exact words were that I was a ‘homely little geek who’s

probably never had a good lay.’”

He had the decency to cringe. “Not my finest hour. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Then he gestured to her outfit. “Any mirror will tell you how wrong I was about you being

homely. Lady, you’re gorgeous.”

Her toes curled in her sandals. “No, I’m not.”

He exhaled noisily, his eyes devouring her legs. “Yes, you are. And if you go downstairs to

the casino alone, you’ll have to beat the men off with a stick.”

The notion was so ludicrous, she laughed.

Meanwhile, he seemed to sober. “Look, Jane, I was a jerk and I’d like a chance to make it

up to you, that’s all. Neither one of us is looking for a relationship. I need a vacation and you deserve to celebrate. Why don’t we simply have fun together?”

Jane wavered, her mind spinning. His offer was so tempting—have fun with a sexy,

charming man who wasn’t a serial killer…that she knew of.

Even if Perry did do something…objectionable, she knew where the man lived. She

frowned. That brought up another potential problem. “If I agreed to this proposition, as you put it, won’t it be awkward when we get back to Atlanta?”

He shrugged. “I assume you won’t be living in the building much longer, so I can’t see it

being an issue.”

She pursed her mouth. That was true. She could buy a big house in Buckhead…or on the

coast for that matter…any coast. One thing was certain. She no longer had to live in a condo with thin walls.

He extended his hand and grinned. “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner. I’m starving.

We’ll talk about it and afterward, if you want me to take a hike, I will.”

Jane looked at his hand. What was the harm? It was only dinner, and he was paying. He

was right—he owed her that much for being a jerk.

She lifted her hand tentatively, then put it in his. As his warm fingers wrapped around hers, a jolt of awareness shot up her arm. Her gaze locked with his and she thought she saw reflected in his dark eyes the same sensations she was experiencing—surprise and trepidation. A split-second later she decided she’d been mistaken as his eyes filled with…desire? Her chest billowed with nervous excitement.

As they walked to the elevator, Jane felt stiff and self-conscious in the new clothes and

shoes, but Perry put her at ease with small talk about what kind of food she liked to eat and pointing out attractions along the way. While they were being led to a table inside the restaurant he suggested, she noticed people looking their way and wondered if everyone thought they made an odd couple—after all, Perry was a strikingly handsome man.

Suddenly he clasped her hand in his again. “Jane, you’d better get used to people looking

at you.”

Her cheeks warmed with shock. People were looking at her? She passed a mirrored panel

and indeed, it took her a moment to realize she was seeing herself. When the woman at the salon had turned her around to face the mirror, she’d barely been able to believe the transformation.

And even though she saw the appreciation reflected in Perry’s eyes, she was feeling a little like Cinderella…that if she made one wrong move, the spell would be broken and she’d go back to

being plain Jane Kurtz.

The restaurant was finely furnished, with dark woods and pale upholstery. Each table was

lavished with fresh flowers and immaculate table cloths. The diners were well-dressed and

attentive to a jazz quartet playing on a slightly elevated stage before a small dance floor.

Fantastic aromas wafted all around them.

When they reached their table, Perry released her hand and pulled out her chair.

Jane hesitated, unable to remember when or if any man had ever held out a chair for her.

She wasn’t even sure what to do. Gingerly, she lowered herself into the chair and sat immobile while Perry slid the chair—and her—forward until she was comfortably tucked underneath the

table.

The waiter nodded with approval as Perry took his own seat across from her, then he

plucked her napkin from the table, opened it with a flourish, and handed it to her. She thanked him and smoothed the crisp linen cloth over her lap, wondering if being in Vegas had awakened her senses…or if she could attribute it to the man sitting across from her.

As if he could read her mind, Perry winked at her.

The waiter handed them menus, then asked for their drink order.

“Red wine?” Perry asked her.

She nodded. “You choose.”

He ordered a bottle of Chilean wine in a varietal that she’d never heard of. She busied

herself studying the menu, a little overwhelmed by the selection.

“It all looks good,” he offered. “What are you in the mood for?”

At the sensual note in his voice, she looked up, a thrill barbing through her to find his

attention on her. And she had a feeling that he wasn’t referring solely to food.

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly, then swallowed hard. “Anything.”

“Anything?” he asked, one side of his mouth curving up. After a few seconds of pulsating

silence, he cleared his throat. “How about if we experiment and order one of each of the tapas to share?”

She nodded, thinking there was something intimate about sharing food, but eager to try the

appetizer-size dishes whose descriptions of exotic meats and unique combinations had her mouth watering.

Then she stole a glance at Perry, skimming the contours of his broad torso and admitted

with a shiver that he might be responsible for her mouth watering.

The waiter returned with their bottle of wine and after pouring each of them a glass, took

their order. When the young man left, Perry lifted his glass toward her. “A toast—to having fun.”

She smiled and clinked her glass to his, then drank deeply of the inky wine, reveling in the

smooth, rich flavors of fruit with the hint of something woodsy.

“What is this called again?”

“Carmenere,” he said. “Right now only the Chileans are bottling this grape varietal by

itself. Do you like it?”

“Very much.”

His smile lit his eyes as he lifted the bottle to top off her glass. “Good. Have you traveled much, Jane?”