Seducing Seven (What Happens in Vegas) (9 page)

Shaking off the grip of tension on his shoulders, he heaved a sigh. She was a magician, smoke and mirrors. None of it was reality. Fiction was fiction, no matter how possible she made love seem. The feelings—he shuddered—the damn book brought out in him were not real. What did it matter? Real or not, he’d only hurt her like his father hurt the string of wives in his life. Turner men were not forever men.

But he found himself wanting to be. For her.

“Dude, comin’?”

Blake tensed and looked at his colleague.

“Meeting’s starting back up.”

With a curt nod, Blake made his way back to his seat. The CEO’s monotone continued on with yearly projections, company visions, and bottom-line scare tactics. But his words made Blake picture Seven a year from now—with another man.

He sat up in his chair.

He could see her clearly, dreaming of a family and building a life—with another man. His hand fisted at his side. Seven standing hand in hand, saying vows, making promises—with another man.

He slammed his fist on the table. “No.”

The sound jerked him out of his thoughts, and silence screamed back at him as he looked around, taking in the shocked, slack-jawed faces of his colleagues.

“Mr. Turner?” the CEO barked, and Blake turned toward the front of the room.

“Sir.” Fuck.
Think quick, man
. “I’m sorry, but I think we can do better.”

“Excuse me?”

Blake made a quick scan of the PowerPoint on the white screen.
Think think think.
“We need to do better. Stretch our goals, push our company. If we really want to set the example in this industry, we need to lead, not follow.”

The CEO studied him for a beat, then nodded his head. “I like your passion, Turner.” He turned to the group, his hand out toward Blake. “This is the kind of energy, the kind of determination, I want to be seeing, people.”

His boss’s voice droned on again, freeing him back to his immediate problem.

Seven turned his life upside down, and not just with the best sex he’d ever known. It was the way it was between them, because it was with
her
. She pushed him, challenged him; she showed him things he’d never seen before, not because he hadn’t been looking, but because he hadn’t thought to look at them differently. She made him feel. It was confusing, terrifying, and exhilarating.

Visions of her teased him, her smile, soft caresses, and the way she leaned in when he told a story. He could smell her, feel her, and taste her even when she wasn’t around. She supported him with his promotion, guided him without trying. He closed his eyes against the truth. His chest tightened down on his lungs and breathing became a chore.

Son of a bitch. He grinned.

He loved her.

Rubbing his chest, he tried to focus on what his boss was saying, but he could only think about one thing.

It was the most terrifying, vulnerable, unpredictable thing he’d ever felt. It consumed him with the need to give—and with the tiniest, most undeniable hope that she’d want to give something back.

What the hell was he going to do now?

After the meeting, Blake strode through the connecting tunnel of his convention hotel to the Masquerade Casino, passing people on the left side and squeezing between groups in deep discussion over which drag queen pulled off Princess Kate the best. Every fiber in his being wanted to smash through each person who stepped in his way like the Hulk, but he pulled in a deep breath and kept skirting the masses. He needed to see Seven, needed to talk to her. The idea that he was even contemplating feelings was the craziest thing he’d ever done in his life, but if his feelings weren’t returned, no way in hell he’d open up that Pandora’s box. He needed to find out. But how the hell could he do that without painting a big fat target on his heart?

His father’s words pierced through his brain.
Don’t ever settle, Blake. As soon as you think you’ve found what you’ve always wanted, something better comes along.

He winced. His father’s ignorant advice had guided all of his relationships for as long as he could remember. How many women had hoped for more from him, only to have to be reminded at the end he’d never made any promises? Too many to count. He frowned. Hurting them had never been his intent, and for a while at first, each time he met a new woman he’d thought she might be the one, but every time, as her feelings grew for him, his couldn’t even be found.

What the hell had been wrong with him?

Sevannah Michaels.

He hadn’t met her yet.

But now things had changed. He’d changed, and she changed him.

His work satisfied his competitive side, his burning need to win, but Seven, she satisfied a different kind of passion. Fuck, who was he kidding? Before meeting Seven, the word “passion” hadn’t been in his vocabulary.

His stomach turned over.

Fighting his way through the crowds of beautiful women, Blake spotted Seven standing at the bar with another man. He slowed. She smiled up at the guy, not the kind of smile she usually shone on him, but one more friendly than dazzling. She was beautiful. And she was his.

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he stopped a few feet behind her, a group of ladies discussing their outfits for the ball later that evening providing the perfect cover.

He sized up the man she spoke with. Tall, light hair, fair build. If he had to judge, he’d say the guy was okay-looking. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watched as Seven slid her hand down the guy’s arm and grasped his hand.

Their voices carried over the din of the bar, and he leaned in closer.

“All of this from a weekend with this guy?”

Seven laughed. “I picked him up in the elevator yesterday.”

The incredulity in her voice twisted his gut.

“We made a bet. I told the sucker I’d make him fall in love with me by tomorrow afternoon.”

Blake’s hands dropped to his side, and he went numb. What the fuck had he been thinking?

He loved Seven?

Happily ever after?

Fucking shit. Reading her damned novel and letting himself fall under the manipulation of those damned rules had made him buy the flimsiest product on the market, and it had cost him everything.

Chapter Nine

S
he’d never been so happy to see someone before in her life. “Never fear, Six is here.” Her sister swung up to the bar and threw her arms around Seven’s neck.

Seven’s eyes burned, and she tucked her head into her sister’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Six? What are you doing here? What about your meeting?”

Looking at her sister was like looking in the mirror, but on its head. Six had huge boobs and a tiny ass. She worked her curves as Seven worked hers—like a boss. Seven squeezed her again, and then rested her head upon said bosom. “I screwed up, Six.”

Her editor laughed. “I’m confused.”

Both women looked up at Seven’s editor and asked in unison. “Why?”

He looked from Seven’s head to Six’s chest and then back to both women. “I’m gay, but I’m kind of jealous of you right now.”

Seven laughed and straightened, throwing her arm around her sister’s neck. “They’re so comforting.”

Six looked down at Seven’s perky but less accommodating chest, then back. “I can only imagine.”

“Six, this is my editor, Nathaniel Hennings.”

“The Nathaniel Hennings? But Seven, he’s—”

Seven threw up her hand. “I know.”

Nathaniel tilted his head and saluted the two women with his drink.

“Don’t mind her. Six, how are you here? What about your meeting?”

Six stomped her feet in quick succession and squealed. “I couldn’t leave you here alone. I knew you were in trouble. Our meeting went off without a hitch this morning, and I hopped on a plane.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Seven squealed back, and grabbed her hands. “So? The meeting, what happened?”

“They love the concept and see real potential. I should hear from them by Monday close of business.”

Seven squeezed her sister’s hands. “I’m so proud of you.”

Six squeezed back. “Enough about me, what have you done?”

Seven looked from Nathaniel to her sister and blew out a breath. “I’ve pretty much proven I’m a huge fraud.”

“She fell in love.”

“Damn it, Nathaniel.”

Her sister gasped. “What are you talking about? With the bet?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “It’s hopeless. He’s leaving tomorrow, and though I do think he’s had the time of his life, I don’t think for a second he’s any closer to having feelings for me, or much less falling in love with me, than he was when we met on the elevator. Nothing worked like I hoped it would. Romance, love?” She shook her head. “I’m a fool, Six.”

Her editor paid the tab, then turned back to the sisters.

“You didn’t have to pay for us,” Seven said, her voice even pitiful to her ears.

He hugged her. “Remember the trench coat? I owed you. I just couldn’t say anything then. By the way, it was a lovely thing to do.”

Seven let her head fall back in mortification, then looked back at her friend.

He tapped the end of her nose. “I’m going to give you ladies some privacy, but you listen to me. If you love him, tell him. I don’t care what happened before. Believe me, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.” His voice trailed off as he looked across the room, his eyes without their usual sparkle and his lips turned down in a frown.

Seven looked in the direction of Nathaniel’s sad gaze. Trent raised his glass in the air to a group of convention-goers, inciting a loud cheer. Looking from her editor to Trent and back, everything became so clear. She gripped Nathaniel’s arm, understanding.

He shook his head. “Okay, I’m off to dinner. I’ll see you at the ball.”

Seven nodded. “See you there.” Turning back to her sister, she studied eyes so much like her own. “He’s right, and you’re right.”

Six turned her head and looked at Seven from the corner of her eye. “I love hearing that, but how am I right, exactly?”

Seven pulled in a breath. “You go after what you want. All the way, every time. You don’t hide behind your fears; you don’t waver.”

Her sister smiled. “So do you, Ms.
New York Times
best seller.”

Seven led her sister through the bar to the lobby. “Let’s go up to my room. I have dinner with Blake in an hour if I can bring myself to face him, then you and I will have time to get ready for the ball.”

Six hopped and clapped her hands, and Seven laughed, a bit of tension releasing its hold on her heart. “You always loved to dress up.”

Nodding, Six slid her arm through Seven’s. “I’ll order room service and get your dress ready.”

Seven held her gaze. “Are you sure? I hate for you to have come all this way only to sit in my room.”

“Whatever. I’m going to a ball tonight. Besides, while you’re at dinner, I’m going shopping.”

Stepping into the elevator, Seven shook her head. “I don’t, you know.”

“Don’t what?”

“Go after things like you. Writing, yes. That’s the one thing I’ve been able to commit to, to go after and hold nothing back, but you. Six, you built a company from the ground up and found an investor—”

Six held up her hand. “Maybe.”

“You run fundraisers and community outreach events, you—”

“I hide.”

Seven stepped out of the elevator and spun around. “What are you talking about? Hide? You’re too busy to hide.”

Six fell in step beside her, and they made their way to Seven’s room. “Exactly. I’m too busy to do anything else.”

Six put her hands out, then let them fall to her sides. “Look at us. You’re twenty-eight, and I’m right behind you, and neither of us has ever had a relationship that lasted longer than a season of our favorite TV show. Why? Why do we do that?”

Seven stopped outside her door and stared at her sister. She must be wrong—surely they’d both had very serious relationships. Well, semiserious relationships. The few men she dated flashed in her mind, two months here, four months there, and any time they pushed for more, she pushed them away. Shit. She was really no better than what she thought of Blake. How many times did she judge him for his inability to commit when she had never taken the plunge? She was scared, so how could she deny him a measure of fear, too? What was happening between them was fast, and anyone would be shaken. Maybe that’s where he was coming from.

She opened her door and led Six into her room. Dropping to her bed, she kicked her shoes off and flopped back onto the pillows. “What’s wrong with us?”

Her sister made her way to the other side of the bed and joined Seven. “Mom and Dad.”

Seven hitched up on her elbows. “What do you mean?”

Rolling to her side, Six propped up her head. “They have the love we’re looking for. How many times did we base our pretend weddings and relationships off Mom and Dad? Every single time.”

Seven sat up. “Yeah, but how can you say we’re afraid then? We have the perfect example.”

“Exactly. Perfect. And what’s more stressful than two perfectionists trying to emulate perfection?”

Studying her sister, Seven saw the fear in her eyes. For such a strong, independent woman of business, her sister was terrified to fail when it came to love. And she was no better. How in the hell did she call herself a romance writer if she was afraid of romance? If she refused to jump in, all in, and go after something real? For the past few years she and her sister had enabled each other in each and every justification for ending a relationship. Their values weren’t aligned, he wasn’t ambitious enough, or, as Seven kept falling back on, he didn’t respect her writing.

Well, hell, then make him.

“How have we let this happen?”

Six smiled. “Easy—no one really mattered until now. But I see the gears turning in your head, generating all the reasons you don’t want to tell this Blake guy how you feel, but after seeing you talk about him, I can’t let you do that. I know you better than anyone, and you’ve never felt this way before.”

Seven sighed. “I can’t explain it. The harder I tried to wrap him around my finger, the tighter he wound me around his.” She shook her head. “What’s worse, I don’t think he was trying to. I’m so scared he doesn’t feel the same.”

“But what if he does?”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Six pushed up to her knees. “But. What. If. He. Does?”

Seven couldn’t look away from the earnest sparkle in her sister’s gaze. Six grabbed her hand. “What if he’s the reason for not letting any of the other men get close?”

Shaking her head, Seven snorted. “That’s a little much, even for me, and I’m a romance writer.”

“No, it’s not. How many one-night stands have you ever had?”

Seven tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow. “Counting this one?”

Six smiled. “Exactly. I understand this all happened because of the bet, but there must have been something about this guy from the beginning.”

Laughing, Seven lay back down. “Yeah, he saved me from an overly interested fan who spit when he talked and had body odor.”

Patting her on the shoulder, Six pushed up from the bed. “You keep telling yourself that. It makes the justification that much easier.”

Seven threw a pillow at her. Six dodged the pillow and grabbed her purse. “I’m going shopping. See you after dinner. Tell him, Seven. You may not know exactly what to do with romance, how to control it or make it happen, but if you’re truly in love, you have to do something.”

The door closed with a soft
thunk
, and Seven stared at the ceiling. Yesterday seemed so far away, yet tomorrow was coming all too soon. If she didn’t do something, Blake would be out of her life and there would be no second chances. Was Six right? Had they been hiding from love all this time, or trying to find it with all the wrong people so they’d have a good reason for it to fail?

She blew out a breath. If she was going to make her living writing stories about lasting love, then she needed to live her words in real life. Not just hide behind the happy ever afters of her stories, but make one of her own. Her rules were a jumping-off point;
Rules of Seduction
had more than proved they had a place in love, but now it was time to be a grown-up and take charge of the life she wanted to live. And that meant telling the man she wanted in her life that she loved him.

Her stomach turned, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.

What had she told him? If he wanted something and went after it, he’d get it?

Well, it was time for her to take her own advice.

She dressed for dinner with care; her cigarette pants and matching blazer with three-quarter-length sleeves in cobalt blue formed to her as if custom made. She wore nothing beneath but her favorite bra and panties in a matching shade. Spritzing her hair with her favorite scent, she fluffed it out and then applied another layer of gloss to her lips. Slipping her toes into a pair of strappy black heels, she grabbed her clutch, then stepped out the door to Blake’s.

She hadn’t heard from him since lunch, but they agreed to meet that evening to eat a quick dinner before changing for the ball.

Her heart hammered in her chest. All her fears pushed at her to keep her mouth shut and simply enjoy the weekend. But that was no longer a possibility. She wanted Blake to want her, but now she wanted it for a very different reason than a silly bet.

She knocked on the door and waited, her heart racing, blood rushing to her head. She knocked again. Looking down the hall one way and then the other, she knocked a third time. Calling out was not an option unless she wanted the neighbor across the hall to join in their plans.

Pulling her key card from her clutch, she unlocked his door and made her way inside. “Blake?”

Nothing but silence greeted her, so she walked past the bathroom into the main area of the hotel room. Blake sat in a chair near the window with a scotch in his hand, feet propped up on the windowsill.

He sipped from his glass and raised it in salute.

She stepped closer, then stilled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “What’s going on?”

He laughed, but it lacked any semblance of humor, dripping with a cynical bite instead. “You’re good. I’ll give you that.”

His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, tie pulled loose and hanging like a noose. She sank to the edge of his bed.

He stared a moment, his eyes red-rimmed, burning through her with condemnation. “It’s all an act, isn’t it? Your smile, your touch. And damn, your performance in bed deserves a standing ovation.”

Confusion laced with pain burned in her chest. “What are you talking about? Performance?”

He dropped his feet to the floor. “Don’t give me that innocent shit, goddammit. You’ve been acting since the beginning, determined to win this stupid fucking bet. Pretending to give a shit about me and my promotion, my feelings. Everything.”

She shook her head. “What in the world? Yes, I was working to seduce you. We made a bet, but I haven’t been pretending anything. I haven’t had to.”

He sneered, fisting his hands at his side. “Right, so your passionate declarations about love, about happy ever afters, those were real? You worked so hard to convince me when I don’t think you really believe any of that shit yourself. It’s nothing but a game to you.” He mocked her, sarcasm fueling his voice in a high-pitched impression. “
What’s more human than love, Blake?
You got one thing right. People sure as hell get screwed over it.”

Her head spun. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why all of a sudden it mattered to him what she believed, because he’d do his own thing like he always had.

This was the man she loved? The man she was planning to share her feelings with? She shook her head. What happened from lunchtime to now?

He clapped. A slow, mocking slap of his hands.

She pushed up from the bed, swallowing down the questions threatening to choke her. “And you’re an ass. What’s wrong with you?”

He shot up from the chair and towered over her. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Pretending to care for someone, playing these games, making bets?”

Pressing her lips together, she tried to make sense of his words. “You were fine with the bet yesterday, and you certainly didn’t have a problem with it earlier today. Twice.”

He looked down his nose at her. “Yeah, well, when the pickings are easy, why waste an opportunity for a piece?”