Seducing Seven (What Happens in Vegas) (5 page)

Gold bracelets circled her wrists, and matching earrings hung from her earlobes. She flashed her disarming smile and stepped back on platform wedges, giving him room to close the door.

He clenched his hand around the handle of his laptop case to keep from touching her. She didn’t need any help winning this damn bet, and he’d have to keep a sharp mind to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Clearing his throat, he pulled the door shut behind him. “Good morning.”

He looked her over quickly, taking in the toned, tanned legs pouring out from her short shorts. How the hell did such a petite woman have legs that long? He closed the door on his libido with a slam.

She needed to learn love was not the answer to self-fulfillment, could never be the answer, and she needed to learn it in a big way. In the end he’d be doing her a favor. As if she were nothing more than a work colleague, he passed by her and called over his shoulder. “Come on. We need to eat so I can get to work.”

He’d keep her right where he wanted her. Working her ass off to win. Come tomorrow, he’d be celebrating his knockout victory all the way to the airport. And he’d be fine with that.

Chapter Five

S
even settled into her seat across from Blake at their table at Cafe Masquerade and studied him. They had time for only a quick bite, since their schedules were so tight. She was a little more than worried by how easily he’d dismissed her at his door. And here she thought she’d pulled out all the stops. With a tug on the hem of her short shorts, she sipped on her mimosa. He couldn’t be as completely unaffected as he let on.

No matter, she’d just have to work harder. The image of his sheet tenting came to mind, and she grinned with a bit of relief. Funny how easy her smiles had been lately. She had to admit they had a lot more to do with Blake himself than rule number two. At least he was a fun companion.

Fun. Yeah, that was it.

“What are you smiling about?”

She needed to find a way to connect with him. Originally she thought the physical temptation was the way to go, but he was so casual about sex, she needed to connect with him on a much deeper level. On a level he couldn’t resist. To get passion from him, she needed to find his passion. Business.

She raised a brow. “I’m in Vegas, it’s a beautiful day, and I’m already drinking alcohol. What’s not to smile about?”

Blake shook his head. “And here I thought you were going to tell me it was the company, the handsome view, or some other compliment bent on seduction.”

She tilted her head and snorted. “I wouldn’t call you handsome.”

“What?”

Seven didn’t try to stifle the laugh at his slack-jawed look. “Because you’re more than handsome and you know it.”

That had him settling back in his own chair with a smug grin. “Oh, I do. But I want to know what you see.”

She snorted. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“I can take it.”

Sinking her teeth through the flaky crisp of a buttery croissant, she moaned. “Oh my God, this is so good.” She chewed and eyed him over her pastry. “You don’t need to be told, but since I’ve already had a cup of coffee this morning, I’m feeling generous. I find you hot, smokin’, sexy as hell.” She waved her hand at him. “It’s the whole dark hair, light eyes, and golden skin thing. You’ve got a roughened manly look that’s more ‘push me up against a wall’ than ‘pull out a chair for me,’ though I’ll admit you have very good manners.”

He had the grace to blush a little. “So I guess this is what it’s like hanging out with a romance author?”

She thought while she chewed. “Possibly, but I also lack a filter sometimes.”

“And what times are those?”

“You’re also a cocky know-it-all. Need more?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I always need more.”

“Lucky for you, I was built for endurance.”

Blake choked on his mimosa, covering his mouth with one hand while he coughed, and carefully setting his champagne glass down with the other.

She winked at him. “Like those times.” Then with slow focus, she licked at the chocolate oozing out from her pastry. He was so fun to tease, she often forgot she was doing it for the bet. Closing her eyes, she savored the sweet goodness.

He stared at her, his eyes slightly watering still as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“You are something, I’ll give you that.”

“Of course I am. That’s my goal. What’s your goal, Blake? With work, with life?”

“That’s a heavy question, and we don’t have much time.”

“Fair enough, give me one.”

He thought for a moment, then washed down his pastry with the last of his coffee. “The youngest VP of sales in my company. I want it now, not next year or even next month.”

“Why the rush?” Rule number three: always be interested. Problem was, she actually wanted to know.

“I’m not rushing so much as ready. I have a knack for what I do. I’d be better able to pass on what I know in a leadership position than as a peer. And I need to keep challenging myself or I won’t improve. I don’t want to stall out. I have to work like tomorrow is already here.” A smear of chocolate darkened the top corner of his mouth, and the sight of it clinging desperately to his lip while he was so adamant of his abilities spoke to something inside her. Her chest tightened, and she fought the urge to wipe the chocolate away and soothe his furrowed brow.

Instead, she waved her hand slightly toward it. “You have chocolate on your mouth.”

He paused a moment, his frown deepening, and wiped his mouth. “Thank you.”

Seven smiled. She really needed to pull herself together. Wanting to soothe him, comfort him, ease him, none of those urges would get her anything but a broken heart. This was not a man who committed to anything but furthering his career. In his life, a relationship would only get in his way.

Why was her damn heart so susceptible to the wrong men? Well, she was just going to have to lock it down, damn it. Straightening her shoulders, she leaned back in her seat. “I understand that. Being ready. Wanting to move forward. Writing is like that, too.”

He raised a brow. “How in the world is writing like that?” His tone, more indulgent than interested, made her bristle.

Sometimes she really wished she could slap him. “The sales of books run in cycles of interest. One year historicals are all the rave, then contemporary is the new
it
thing. Or sales run on themes, the down-and-dirty cowboy or the millionaire’s club. As a good businesswoman, I have to try to analyze the market, see what’s coming, and write it before it gets here.”

“I respect the hell out of your awareness that you need to look ahead.”

Her heart warmed.

He shook his head. “But the rest sounds ridiculous. Down-and-dirty cowboys. Really? What ever happened to writing the book of your heart and all that crap I’ve been hearing all weekend? Or writing something relevant.”

And back to wanting to smack him.

“The theme, even the genre, is simply the conduit by which we weave our stories. This world is made of much more than you and me at this table, the current state of our government, or who won the latest sports championship. Romance writers tap into broader, deeper experiences—things tying cultures, eras, whole landscapes together. The story is only effective if our readers disappear into them.”

He gazed at her, then looked around the restaurant. “That sounds like a lot of work beyond writing.”

“It is. Long hours. In a day I’ll do everything from work on my current manuscript to plotting my next, to analyzing the market, social media, promotion, and looking at where I need to be a year from now, five years from now. I’m only successful in this business if I know the right place to go with my career. My days tend to be more sixteen hours than eight.”

“Oh, I get it. My day begins before I’m awake and ends after I’ve already gone to sleep. That takes an amazing level of work ethic.”

“One you recognize with your own work. You and I simply sell different things.”

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at her.

The intense look in his eye made her want to squirm. That was her cue. It was time to go. Rule number seven: always leave him wanting more. “Good luck today. I have a presentation in thirty minutes, and I need to run back to my room first.”

He nodded and stood with her. “What’s the presentation?”

“It’s on alpha heroes.”

He smoothed down the front of his suit jacket. “Want to take my picture? I’m the perfect visual aid. It could reduce your hour-long presentation to less than sixty seconds.”

Seven rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Sure, you may have a few alpha qualities with your broad shoulders and your bedroom eyes.”

He puffed out his chest even more.

“But this presentation is more than being an alpha man; it’s about being an alpha hero. You have a long way to go, my friend.”

His smug smile disappeared, and she almost felt bad. Almost.

Stepping forward, she placed a smooth kiss against the corner of his mouth where the chocolate had been. Lingering for a second, she breathed him in, then stepped back. He still frowned, and it was everything she could do not to outright laugh at the look. “Remember, I get lunch.”

“But we agreed to dinner.” He looked at his watch. “It’ll be tight, but I’ll be there.”

Seven gave him a once-over, then turned and walked out the front door, making sure to put an extra swing in her hips with every step. As any woman did, she had an insecurity here and there, but not where her ass was concerned. She’d learned to leverage that particular asset long ago.

With a quick look over her shoulder, she gave Blake a little wave of her fingers. Just as she’d thought. He was watching her go, and that was a good sign.

Time to shift the power back to her side of the scale. She had a bet to win, a bet she was having the time of her life playing through, and one she had no intention of losing, her heart be damned.

But secretly, she feared there’d be no winner.

“Hey, Seven?”

Yes. Mental fist bump.

She turned back.

“There’s a big difference in what we sell. I sell luxury for those who can afford it; you sell fantasy, fiction, some unattainable, ungraspable thing that no amount of money can buy. I’m surprised you feel good about that.”

Power shift annihilated.

She whirled through the door and right into the arms of her editor, Nathaniel, with a loud
oomph
.

His strong hands cupped her shoulders, helping her gain her balance. She could feel the warmth radiating off his chest, and his cologne wafted about her head in a masculine cloud, but instead of her stomach fluttering with interest, it remained curiously calm. “Hey, Seven, are you okay?”

Stepping back, she flashed him a smile, or tried to, certainly not with the same intensity she’d been showering on Blake.

“Are you ready for your presentation this morning?”

“I am. Heading there as soon as I change.”

He looked her over. “You look amazing just as you are. You just need to put that smile back on your face.”

She closed her eyes for a beat. He’d complimented her, and she’d felt nothing. Damn Blake. Would she never see another man as desirable again? She was in for years of loneliness if that was the case. Damn alpha males.

But Blake was certainly no alpha hero—especially after his last barb.

She studied the appreciation in her editor’s eyes and saw something different than before. She really was going crazy. “Thank you, but I’m running back to put on a dress. You know I like to keep a specific author style.”

He nodded. “Which dress, the red one? Oh, wait, the white one.”

Seven’s eyes widened a beat. What in the hell? “You have a very good memory. The white.”

“You’ll look amazing.” He pulled open the door, but looked back with a smile. “I’ll sneak in and sit in the back.”

“See you there.” She made quick work of getting back to her room and slipping into her dress, doing her best to push Blake’s words from her mind. She’d have to save the color for later, opting for matching nude panties and a strapless bra. The intricate detail of the lace on the bra made the neutral color simply breathtaking. It was one of her favorite sets. She shimmied the dress up and over her hips, then tied the straps behind her neck. The halter neckline was all Marilyn Monroe, but dark and sultry.

Seven bit her lip, thinking about what she had planned for lunch, and how to get over the stupid things he always said. He had a way of getting under her skin, which made her question her sanity. Because she wanted him under her skin, all right. But in the horizontal mambo kind of way.

The whole plan for lunch was crazy and left a nervous buzz in her stomach. Could she really go through with it? Six would think she was nuts.

But if she wanted to ensure her success and save her reputation, she needed to go all out. It wasn’t so much about the sex as it was a partner putting themself out there, being generous and giving. Traits that would often be reciprocated and easily translated into the rest of the relationship.

But work came first.

Her presentation covered alpha heroes in romance novels, and Blake thought he was the perfect example. She frowned. He was in many ways, but not where it counted for a happily ever after.

And there was no romance novel if there was no happily ever after.

Something she’d do well to remember.

B
lake ended his call and slipped his phone into his inner suit coat pocket. With a quick check of the time, he pushed the meeting room door open just a bit to gauge the space in the room. There were at least a hundred women, making it easy for him to go unnoticed in the back. Seven slowly paced the front of the room as she spoke, all eyes on her. Once she turned away from him again, he slipped in the door of her alpha hero presentation with a group of conference attendees who’d shown up late and found a chair against the far back wall by the door. He settled in and slid low in the seat.

He was impressed by the size of the room, and the fact that all the chairs were not only filled, but more people continued to join them, leaving standing room only. He’d expected something smaller and more intimate, but this was more than twice the size of the room he’d imagined.

Seven made a comment that made the attendees laugh, and the noise quickly crescendoed to a cacophony. For the fairer sex, women were fucking loud.

At breakfast he’d found himself relating a bit too much with his feisty seductress. Her work ethic, her passion, were the twins of his own, and he felt himself wanting to extend breakfast into lunch. Which was his red flag to get the hell out. His parting comment was just as much to ease his discomfort as to tip the scales back into his favor. She’d been a bit too self-satisfied as she’d said good-bye.

Now he planned on doing some intel. He was a businessman after all, and knowing his opponent was key. Of course it was nothing more than wanting to figure her out, get the upper hand—but he couldn’t complain about the view he’d had as she’d walked out of the restaurant. Shoving down his slight fascination, he scoped her out at the front of the room.

Now he watched her again, commanding the room, calling everyone to attention. She exuded confidence and passion—two things that intrigued him about her since the beginning. Her comment at breakfast stung more than he liked to admit. Alpha hero versus alpha man. Fuck. Nothing but fantasy. He’d just lean back and enjoy the show and see just how she differentiated the two. This was bound to be entertaining and informative.