Prince Charming for 1 Night

by Nina Bruhns

  But it was enough that he wanted to try.

  Or said he did.

  That was a miracle in itself.

  He’d made no declarations of love, given her no vows of forever. She could live with that. For now. Just having him here with her was more than she’d ever expected.

  “Coffee?”

  “Mmm.” It smelled delicious. “Who made the French toast?”

  “I did,” he said proudly.

  She was impressed. “A man of many talents.”

  He leaned over and gave her a slow, thorough kiss. “And a woman of rare appetite,” he said in a low rumble.

  They’d made love. Of course they had. Like she could take him to her bed and not touch him. Not have him touch her. Impossible.

  He’d been so tender it nearly broke her heart. It almost felt like…No, she wasn’t going there.

  They’d just nestled together into the propped-up pillows to eat the savory breakfast, when his cell phone rang. He checked the screen.

  “It’s the office. Guess I’d better get it.” They rarely called him on weekends, so when they did it was usually important.

  “Conner here.”

  “It’s your father.”

  Hell. “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

  “You got an e-mail about a surveillance from someone named Barton.”

  Conner glanced at Vera and smiled. “Yeah?” How the hell had his father gotten hold of that?

  “It came in on the general e-mail account,” his dad said, answering the unspoken question. “You’re surveilling Vera Mancuso? What’s that all about?”

  Double hell. “Hang on, Dad.” He climbed out of bed, giving Vera a kiss. “Reception’s bad in here. I’m gonna take this outside.” He grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist and trotted out the double sliders to the huge tiled patio that circled the penthouse, closing them firmly behind him.

  “I told you about the case she’s helping me on. The whole Quetzal thing. She could be in danger, so I’m making sure she’s safe.”

  “From between her sheets? Mike says—”

  Anger shot through Conner. He tamped it down. “That’s none of Mike’s business, Dad. Or yours.”

  “It is if I think you’re getting personally involved with this woman.”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “You have the family name to think of.”

  “Oh. You mean like Uncle Harold? Or Candace, or Silver?” All stars of the local gossip columns due to their endless “inappropriate” love affairs. Although Silver seemed to have settled down now that she was a newlywed and expecting a baby.

  “That’s not our side of the family. Our side—”

  “I know, I know. We’re the respectable ones. We only defend murderers and rapists. But we marry decent women.”

  His father made a choking noise. “If you have a problem being a defense attorney—”

  “I don’t. But if I want to date a stripper, I’ll date a stripper. Besides, it’s not serious.” Yet. “I just met the woman. No doubt I’ll get tired of her soon, just like I get tired of all the women I date.”

  It was disturbing how easily the half-lie slipped out. Half, because he did go through women like popcorn at the movies. But he didn’t want to deal with his father now. He had just met Vera, and although his feelings about her were totally different than for any other woman he’d ever dated, how could he be so sure she was The One? That this affair was forever? Why alienate his dad until he was a hundred percent certain?

  That wasn’t being a coward. That was being prudent.

  “Did you at least get the paste Quetzal back from her? That’s an extremely valuable piece of jewelry.”

  “Yes, Dad. I got it back,” he said exasperatedly. And made a mental note to retrieve it from the tub.

  “All right. Good. Anyway, just be careful, son. Women like her—”

  “I will, Dad. Don’t worry. Just forward the e-mail to my private account, okay?”

  “Your mother is asking if you’ll come to dinner tonight. Ms. Pruitt and her father will be here.”

  Saints preserve him. “Sorry, can’t make it. I’ve got a good lead on the Parker case and will be working it tonight until all hours.”

  “The Parker case?”

  “One of my pro bonos.”

  “I see. Conner, I really wish—”

  “I know, Dad. Give Mom a kiss for me.”

  He punched the end button on the cell phone with an annoyed curse. He knew his dad meant well. But he was all grown up now—thirty-three years old. He could run his own life.

  And if he wanted Vera in it, that was his decision to make, no one else’s.

  Chapter 15

  It’s not serious…No doubt I’ll get tired of her soon…

  Vera hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. She really hadn’t. She’d just gone into the bathroom and noticed it was still humid from last night’s bath and opened a window. Could she help it if Conner was talking on the phone practically right under it?

  And now his casual pronouncement was seared into her brain.

  Nothing she hadn’t already known. Nothing she hadn’t been telling herself over and over for the past three days.

  But hearing it spoken out loud like that, from her lover’s own mouth in such a matter-of-fact manner, well, that really brought it home with a sick thud in her heart.

  Everything he’d said last night was a lie. She really was just a temporary plaything for him.

  As her mother had been for her father.

  For the first time ever, she finally understood why her mother had done what she had. Thrown away her life for a man who didn’t care about her for more than a few nights of pleasure. She’d been in love with wealthy, powerful Maximillian St. Giles, just as Vera was in love with wealthy, powerful Conner Rothchild. And love made women do foolish, foolish things.

  Taking a deep cleansing breath, Vera quickly finished up and slid back into bed before he knew she’d overheard his conversation.

  For now it didn’t change anything. Outwardly. But she was so glad she’d found out his true feelings. Or she might have believed his pretty lies and allowed herself to dream of the impossible. Heartbreaking as it was, better to know the truth.

  Putting on her best smile, she greeted Conner with a kiss when he came back to bed.

  “Mmm,” he hummed approvingly. “You taste sweet.”

  “You’ll never guess what I found on the breakfast tray.”

  He grinned against her mouth. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  She held up a can of whipped cream. “Funny, I don’t remember this being in the kitchen yesterday.”

  “I found it in the limo fridge. Those chauffeurs do think of everything, don’t they?”

  She squirted a dollop on her finger and slid it into her mouth suggestively. “Gee, and I thought you didn’t come here for sex last night.”

  His grin widened. “A man can always hope, can’t he? I did apologize. Abjectly and sincerely. And I ruined my tuxedo getting back into your good graces.”

  “Or pants, as the case may be.”

  “As I recall, there were no pants involved.”

  “Hmm.” She flipped back the covers, revealing his magnificent naked body. His magnificent and aroused naked body. “It appears you’re right.”

  His eyes went half-lidded. “I was talking about you.”

  “And I,” she said, giving the can a shake, and then a well-aimed squirt, “was talking about you.”

  He moaned as she bent to lick the sweet cream from his shaft, melting back onto the pillows in willing surrender to her tongue.

  He may well give her up in the end, but when he did, he’d be giving up the best damn lover he’d ever had. She’d make sure he remembered her for the rest of his life, seeing her face in the face of every future lover, feeling her touch in every brush of their fingertips.

  He might give her up. But he’d always regret letting her go.

  Almost as much as she did.

  C
onner was totally wrung out.

  Ho. Lee. Batman.

  The woman was amazing. Agile. Clever. Mind-blowing. Among other things.

  Last night they’d done tender and loving. The night before had been hot and ravenous. This morning had been…well, every one of his fantasies come true.

  Yeow.

  She’d left him sprawled limply in bed, waving at him from the door with her fingers and a wicked smile, and gone to visit her stepfather, Joe. It was Saturday, her usual day to have lunch with him at the assisted-care facility.

  Conner had a feeling she wouldn’t be all that hungry. She’d eaten a ton of whipped cream at breakfast.

  Oy.

  The woman would be the death of him yet.

  But what a way to go.

  He really did not want to do this.

  But he had no choice. It was the only way to get the evidence he needed to exonerate Suzie Parker and put the scumbags who’d abused her away for good.

  Conner reluctantly hit the “Pay Now” button on the PayPal invoice he’d received from Lecherous Lou for tonight’s private gentlemen’s party. He’d much rather be watching Vera dance at the club. And he was still worried about her safety. So much so he’d put Barton back on her tail after letting him get a few hours of sleep. He’d just called in after catching up with her at the assisted care. The guy was good. And thorough. The report he’d e-mailed this morning was detailed as hell, including background sketches on all the people she’d spent more than five minutes with last night at the charity ball. Apparently, Barton liked to while away his hours on stakeout doing research on the Internet from his BlackBerry.

  From his notes, Darla’s friends seemed to be mostly aging spoiled rich kids who seemed harmless enough, with no huge red flags among the bunch of them. Her brother, Henry, on the other hand…The guy was a real piece of work. His record up until his early thirties read like a Primer for Troubled Young Men. Everything from joyriding without permission, to a dismissed assault charge for beating up a love rival, to a variety of drunk-driving charges. All dismissed as well. His daddy had very deep pockets.

  Conner shot off a note to his secretary to give Barton a raise, then reached for the phone to call Vera’s cell.

  “Where are you?” he asked when she picked up.

  “Are you stalking me, by any chance?” She sounded more amused than irritated.

  He sat back in his chair and grinned. “Hell, no. Well. Maybe. But in a good way.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then I know I’ve got you hooked.”

  “Hook, line and sinker, baby.”

  She chuckled softly, but he detected a sadness lurking in the tone.

  “Something wrong?” he asked. “Your stepdad okay?”

  The question elicited a sigh. “No, not really. He’s getting worse. It’s so depressing to watch.”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know he means a lot to you.”

  “Yeah.” There was a pause. “So what’s up? Where are you?”

  “At the office catching up. And I’d like to point out, you never actually answered where you are.”

  She laughed gently. “On the way home. I have got to get some sleep before work tonight.”

  “I’ve got a few hours free,” he said suggestively. “I could come over and—”

  “Forget it, Batman. I can barely walk as it is. God knows how I’m going to perform tonight.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “That bad?”

  She made a throaty moan. “That good.”

  He sat there beaming. You could pull down the blinds and the room would still be fully lit. “Yeah,” he said. “For me, too.” He made a frustrated noise. “I sure wish you were here so I could kiss you.”

  “Me, too. Maybe later?”

  “Absolutely.” Suddenly, he remembered why he’d called. “Listen, about later. I’m going to have to work until pretty late. There’s a lead I need to follow on another case, but it’ll only happen tonight.”

  “Oh. I understand,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment but failing. God, she made him feel good.

  “I’ve assigned you a bodyguard,” he continued. “His name is Barton, and he’ll stay with you at the club until I can get there.”

  “Really? You think that’s necessary?”

  “I hope it’s not, but I won’t take any chances.”

  She hesitated, then, “Okay.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for not arguing.”

  “I can still feel that gun sticking into my back. Something I’d just as soon not experience again.”

  “Beautiful and smart,” he said. “Just do what Barton says, okay?”

  “Everything?” she teased.

  “Ha-ha. Only if you want me in prison for homicide.”

  “Sweet-talker.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He heard a soft puff of breath. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Your place or mine?”

  Her voice went low and throaty. “Where would you like me?”

  A loaded question, if ever he’d heard one. He matched her tone. “Where haven’t I had you yet?”

  “You are so bad.”

  “That’s why you love me.”

  Suddenly there was an awkward pause.

  Ah, hell. Why had he said that? He covered quickly. “If I don’t get to the club before your shift ends, go to my place, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can. Barton will keep me informed with what’s up.”

  “Right,” she said. “I’m home now. Gotta run. Bye.”

  “Be careful, honey.”

  But she’d already hung up.

  He took a deep breath.

  Way to go, idiot. Talk about almost stepping in it. He knew she was deliberately keeping her distance from him emotionally. Which was a good thing. Because he was, too. This affair between them was too new, too potentially disastrous, for either of them to take it lightly. Dropping the L-bomb like that…already…not good timing on anyone’s clock.

  Maybe she hadn’t noticed.

  Uh-huh.

  Which was why she’d been in such an all-fired hurry to hang up.

  Damn.

  Vera lay in bed staring at the ceiling for two solid hours, trying to take a nap.

  It was no use.

  Thoughts whirled in her head, around and around at the speed of light, keeping her wide awake. Because when Conner had made that joke about her loving him, she’d almost blurted out and told him the truth. That she really did.

  Love him.

  Thank God she’d had the presence of mind to stop herself. What a joke. Yeah, on her.

  She finally gave up and got ready for work instead. May as well go in and pick up an extra set. At least she’d be using her insomnia productively. She needed all the money she could make.

  Joe was worse. A lot worse. He’d picked up an infection in his lungs, and if it didn’t get better, it could easily turn into pneumonia. His nurse said a lot of Alzheimer’s patients died of pneumonia. So he needed a lot of extra medications. Which cost a lot of extra money.

  When she got down to the lobby, a man rose to his feet.

  “Are you Burton?” she asked. When he nodded and showed her his ID, she suggested they carpool. “Seems silly to take two vehicles when we’re going to the same place.”

  “Good idea. I’ll drive,” he said, and made a notation on a small spiral pad.

  When they arrived at the Diamond Lounge, Lecherous Lou called her into his office right away. Barton insisted on following her and standing guard outside the door.

  Seemed a bit obsessive. But it did make her feel safe.

  “So,” Lecherous Lou said as soon as the door was closed, “you on for tonight?”

  She frowned in confusion. “Well, yeah. That’s why I came in early.”

  He smiled, all teeth. “Great! I knew you’d come around eventually.” He leered at her. “Nothing like a big spender to open a woman’s eyes—and her legs—I always say.”
<
br />   Wait. “What are you talking about?” Obviously not the same thing she was.

  “The private party tonight. You are coming, right?”

  Disgust straightened her spine. “No. I’ve told you a million times—”

  “That was before your sugar daddy signed up,” he said smugly. He lifted a shoulder. “Naturally, I assumed you’d want to reap the full benefit of his generosity, and not let some other girl in on the action. After all, it’s only because of your performance in the VIP room he decided to take me up on my offer.”

  Conner?

  Shock hit her square in the gut. “You’re talking about Conner Rothchild? He’s going to one of your parties?”

  Lou dangled a PayPal receipt in her face. “Want to change your mind? I’m telling you, the man’s got a thing for you, babe. Play your cards right and your take-home pay for the night will be in the thousands. Guaranteed.”

  But her mind was still reeling over the fact that Conner was attending a private stripper party. Her Conner!

  Okay, so apparently not as hers as she’d thought.

  He’d lied to her! He’d said he was working tonight!

  What else had he lied about?

  No doubt I’ll get tired of her soon…

  Obviously, not about that part.

  She’d been right. He was just like her father.

  “So, you in?”

  Fuming, she gave herself a severe reality check. The jerk wanted a private party? Fine. She’d give him a damn private party.

  And then she’d give him a big fat piece of her mind. Right before she left him and his lying self high and dry.

  For good.

  “Sure,” she declared, already planning her exit strategy. “Count me in.”

  Chapter 16

  Conner was wearing a wire. Well, technically, not a wire but a tiny video camera and wireless transmitter, a handy gizmo he’d had a techie friend build into an old Rolex watch a few years back. The device beamed sound and video images to a small laptop, which he’d set up back in his room to record everything. The laptop was being monitored by a Metro vice officer recommended to him by his cousin Natalie.

  Lou’s party was being held in a luxurious multibedroom suite in one of the most exclusive hotels in Vegas. Unbeknownst to upper management, Conner assumed. He’d registered for a room of his own on the floor directly below, where he’d gotten ready, made sure the vice officer was comfortable and well-stocked for the night, then ridden the elevator up to the party suite.