Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (22 page)

“Where are you now?” Natalie asks, coming back on the screen. “It doesn’t look like your studio.”

“No, I’m in a hotel room. I figured it was best for now.”

“A hotel? Are you sure you can afford that?”

She licks her lips. “Actually, it’s Giovanni’s room.”

Natalie’s eyes grow wide. “It is?”

Lindsay suddenly sees Anthony looming over Natalie’s shoulder again. “You’re in my brother’s hotel room? Is he there?”

“No, he flew to Rome earlier. The room is paid for the next few nights, and he left me his key card.”

“I thought you weren’t going to see him again,” Natalie says.

She takes a deep breath and decides she might as well get this over with. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Giovanni and I are sort of getting married.”

Natalie’s mouth drops open. “
What?
”

Both Anthony and Natalie are gawking at her with such shock it’s comical. It makes Lindsay want to laugh, and she would if this whole crazy situation wasn’t actually happening to her.

“Why would you guys do that?” Anthony asks. He frowns and is obviously trying to figure this out. “Are you pregnant?”

I wish
. Despite years of knowing and accepting her infertility, his question is still a kick to the gut. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s a long story.”

“I thought you weren’t planning to ever marry again. Are you two in love?” Natalie asks.

Lindsay isn’t sure how to answer that. It occurs to her how it wouldn’t be a good idea to admit their marriage is fake over the Internet. Plus, she wouldn’t want to mess anything up for the kids involved. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ll bet it is.” Anthony shakes his head. “He hasn’t said a word to me.”

“It’ll be easier to explain all this in person.”

“Where are you planning to live?” Natalie asks. “You’re not going to Africa with him, are you?”

“No, he took a job at Seattle Children’s.”

“Seriously?” Anthony starts laughing as he disappears from behind Natalie’s shoulder. “I’m calling that asshole right now,” Lindsay hears his voice trailing off.

Natalie leans in closer to the screen. “What is actually going on here? Are you in love with Giovanni?”

“Oddly, I do sort of have feelings for him, but don’t tell Anthony I said that.”

“Why not?” Natalie appears mystified. “None of this makes any sense.”

“I know. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

Natalie considers her. “You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you? Please, tell me the truth.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Her sister studies her like she doesn’t believe it. “When is the wedding?”

Lindsay shrugs. “I’m not sure. Soon. Giovanni is going to set everything up. We’re flying to Las Vegas.”

“Las Vegas!” Natalie’s brows shoot up to her hairline. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m trying to be.”

“What on Earth have you gotten yourself into?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry to be so evasive. And I promise I’ll explain it to you soon.”

Natalie looks worried. “I can’t believe you agreed to fly to Vegas at all, much less get married there.”

She takes a deep breath. “I know.”

Lindsay’s pulse shoots up when the pilot announces their plane is thirty minutes away from arrival. She leans over a bit to glance outside, but all she sees are blue skies.

Most of the other passengers seated around her are middle-aged women, part of a tour group ready to party and gamble—though judging by the amount of alcohol imbibed they’ve started the party early.

Instead of flying to Seattle as she had originally planned, she flew from Berlin to San Francisco. After going through customs, she’s now on a plane headed for the one place on Earth she swore she’d never go again.

Las Vegas, Nevada.

She closes her eyes and tries to calm down.

To make matters worse, she’s getting married. The one other thing she swore she’d never do again.

How did I get myself into this mess?

She wishes now she’d forced Giovanni to meet her in Seattle.
She wasn’t thinking clearly and has the nagging sense she still isn’t.

They haven’t even spoken on the phone, not since her angry conversation before he flew to Rome. She waited for him to call, but he never did, and there was no way she was calling
him
again.

She spent her last week in Berlin shopping for gifts to bring home for everyone and tying up loose ends. And then, of course, there was that good-bye party. It went on for two days, with Dagmar inviting nearly every artist in Berlin. They drank, ate, talked art, and played hours of poker.

A few days before she was scheduled to leave Berlin, Giovanni finally texted her the flight information to Vegas. When she texted back that she already had a flight to Seattle, he told her to cancel it and keep the money. Being that her funds were so low she was running on fumes, she did just that. Unfortunately, after the cancellation penalty there wasn’t much left over.

I’ll be broke in Las Vegas, just like always
.

Sweat breaks out over her whole body as her stomach cramps. It’s her worst nightmare come to life again.

But I’m not broke. Soon, I’ll have the twenty grand Giovanni agreed to pay me
.

She still has his credit card too, not that she’s touched it for anything personal.

“Is this your first time in Las Vegas?” the male flight attendant asks her. Lindsay has an aisle seat and he’s been flirting with her most of the way from San Francisco. It surprised her because she thought he was gay. He lowers his voice. “Would you like to grab a drink together after we land?”

She tries to smile. “Thanks, but I’m actually here to get married.”

“Is that right? Congratulations.” His eyes flicker down her body—clearly not gay at all. “He’s a lucky guy.”

She grips the seat’s armrests. Her anxiety skyrockets at the realization that the stress of all this has put her normally excellent instincts about people completely out of whack. It’s like she’s lost one of her primary senses.

Once the plane starts its descent, she’s so dizzy she has to put her head down. The tour group ladies all make sympathetic clucking noises toward her. She lied and told them she was afraid of flying because it was clear she had to tell them something when they noticed how anxious she was.

“There now, see? Everything is fine,” the stylish red-haired grandmother—who polished off two whiskeys during the short flight—says with a smile after they finally land. “You had nothing to worry about.”

Lindsay nods, but knows it isn’t true. She can already feel the grimy Vegas heat coating her skin, and she hasn’t even left the plane yet.

In his text, Giovanni told her they were staying at the Bellagio. A good thing, at least, since she doesn’t have any particular memories associated with it.

She figures she’ll grab a taxi outside the airport, but when she disembarks her eyes widen. Giovanni is in the passenger area waiting for her. Standing there as large as Thor, he’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He’d be hard to miss.

A girlish excitement grips her and those butterflies come swarming back.

Instead of his usual corduroy pants, he’s wearing dark jeans and a blue button-down shirt. Her first thought is how incredible he looks and how happy she is to see him. Not that she’s forgotten what happened in Berlin though, because she certainly hasn’t.

She notices his tan has faded a bit, but there’s a healthy pink flush to his cheeks as he waves and grins at her with white teeth.

To her surprise, as soon as she’s close enough, he pulls her into his arms and hugs her. Lindsay knows she should resist, should push him away, but he feels so good she lets her guard down. It was terrible holding it together on that plane ride, so for one long moment, she lets herself relax and be held.

Despite all of his issues, she feels safe with him. Giovanni’s the kind of man you want on your side in a crisis.

When they pull apart, he’s still grinning as he looks down at her. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I’d almost forgotten how stunning you are.”

She rolls her eyes. “I look terrible. I just flew halfway around the world and haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”

“It doesn’t matter. I think you’re beautiful.”

She tries not to smile, but can’t help it. In some ways, he’s like a big kid—speaking his mind without guile. She nearly tells him he’s beautiful too, because he is, but then stops herself. It’s like he’s already working some kind of voodoo on her. “Stop being so nice. I’m still pissed at you.”

“Ah, I was hoping we were past that.”

“Think again.” She glances around the airport, remembering how she’s returned to the one place she hates.

“Well, even though you’re still angry with me, it’s good to see you, Lindsay.” He seems about to look away, but his eyes go back to her and roam her face, perceptive as always. “Is there something else bothering you?”

“No, it’s nothing.” She takes a deep breath and tries to push away her lingering anxiety.

“You look pale. We should get some food into you.”

“I’m fine,” she mutters, more to herself than him.

“I’ll bet you haven’t eaten for hours.” He reaches around to grab her bag. “Come on, I have a rental car. We can get dinner or if you prefer, room service at the hotel.”

She follows him through the airport, still trying to hold it together. She feels much better than she did on the plane and realizes his presence is calming her. He’s solid and in command, and as much as she hates to admit it, that’s exactly what she needs right now.

As soon as they reach the parking area, there’s a wall of blistering heat. She gasps. It’s suffocating.

Welcome back to Hell
.

It’s evening and the sun is setting in an orange sky, but it’s at least a hundred degrees. Even though she grew up here, it feels foreign to her, and she misses the cool green of Seattle.

She concentrates on Giovanni instead, following behind him. Admiring the way he walks, the way his ass looks in those jeans. She doesn’t recognize the cut and guesses he picked them up in Rome.

Eventually, he stops in front of a plain brown four-door sedan and pops open the trunk.

Lindsay stares at it then bursts out laughing. “This is the car you rented?”

“Yes, why?” He looks at her questioningly and seems baffled by her amusement.

“This poop-brown sedan? Are you kidding? It looks like something a down-on-his-luck pot dealer would drive.”

He glances at the car as if he’s finally noticed it for the first time. “I admit it’s not glamorous, but it seems to run okay.”

“Why didn’t you just rent an SUV or something?”

“I don’t know. This seemed adequate. Plus, I was in a hurry to pick you up and told them to give me something quick.”

Lindsay opens the passenger door and climbs inside the stiflingly hot car, which smells like a combination of dirty socks and vanilla air freshener. “At least we won’t have to worry about it being stolen. I doubt we could pay somebody to steal this ugly thing.”

After putting her suitcase in the trunk, Giovanni slides into the driver’s seat. He starts the engine then fiddles with the dash panel for a few seconds to get the air conditioner blasting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This car isn’t so bad.”