Covet

by Rosanna Leo

  As long as both of them could manage to forget his passing acquaintance with her vagina.

  Why wasn’t she jumping at this opportunity?

  Perhaps it was because when she looked at Alex, the last thing she thought of was networking. The man looked like sex and moved like sin. He gave her very dirty thoughts, ones she had no right having, especially in her current frame of mind.

  The truth was every time she looked at Alex, she experienced the sizzle Anise had described.

  And yet she’d fallen into a comfortable routine of alternately hating and mourning Tommy. Without her realizing it, her ex had taken up the bulk of her mental energy and he wasn’t even in her life anymore.

  How sad was that?

  She shouldn’t feel badly about partying with the gorgeous hotel owner. So he was nice to look at. So what? She’d taken note of his lean muscles and the sharp cut of his jaw. There was no mistaking the fullness of his lower lip and she could admit she’d already wondered how he got the little scar at the outer corner of his left eye.

  He was the sort of man who made a woman wonder.

  No, her reluctance had nothing to do with Alex’s party.

  It had everything to do with Alex.

  Even now, with him standing so close, her temperature soared. She plucked at her shirt to get some air. Even though there was plenty of space around them, he seemed to absorb it all. It was hard breathing around him.

  If only he still looked like the casual guy from Joe’s. In the guise of Alex Markov, rich golden boy, he was right out of her league. In fact, he was so far out of her league, he was in another dimension.

  It wasn’t that she thought he was better. He was just so otherworldly.

  She hadn’t exactly been feeling like she was part of the world lately. She felt removed somehow, set apart.

  Other.

  She’d been trying so hard to tell herself she wasn’t missing any pieces, but it wasn’t always easy. Her time at Vice had been a hotbed of emotion, for more than one reason, and it was when emotion throttled her that her power flagged.

  Alex looked at her as if she was pretty and whole and strong.

  Not hollow.

  Was it so wrong to want more of that?

  “Dana.” Was it possible his voice just got huskier? “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I…it’s because…I just.” She let out a puff of air. “You should really pull that lip in, you know.”

  “The pout’s too much?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He relaxed his lips but they were no less full and tempting. “Please come.”

  “Why?”

  He searched her eyes, serious once again. “I like talking to you. I like looking at you. And I want to flirt with you some more.”

  “I see.” If she’d been chewing gum, she would have swallowed it. “I’ll run it by the others but I can’t promise anything.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll still make sure you’re added to the guest list, but why don’t we trade numbers in case something comes up?” When he produced his cell phone, she surprised herself and brought hers out as well. They traded mobile numbers, like normal people.

  The little digits on her phone display fascinated her. Alex Markov’s contact information in her phone. He’d given her both his personal number and an office number.

  It shouldn’t seem strange. They’d done the nasty, and in a nasty place to boot. And yet having his number in her contact list seemed as plausible as having ET’s.

  “I guess we’re set then.” With a nod, he slid past her toward the chapel entrance.

  “Alex?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.”

  “Yeah, you do.” With that, he left the chapel.

  Dana waited a moment and then followed him outside. She watched as he walked down the corridor, entranced by the way his hard body moved under that nice suit, hoping she’d find some clarity in his wake.

  She only had more questions, the main one being why he’d singled her out. Had that night at Joe’s affected him as much as it had affected her?

  I want to flirt with you some more.

  He’d given her an opportunity to party all night at Covet, the place that was destined to become the Strip’s most famous nightclub. Would it be so wrong? It was just a party, and they’d already planned to hit the clubs.

  This was fate telling her she needed to stick to her plan and try to enjoy herself. The universe had clearly ushered Alex in her direction, knowing she needed a little nudge.

  That’s all this was. Alex was her nudge and his party would be her chance to embrace oblivion for a while.

  Yes. They would attend Alex’s party and she would have a blast.

  No looking back. No more Tommy.

  No more pain.

  It was time to get her party on.

  Chapter Five

  “I’ll need a name for the reservation.”

  Gordon Dean glanced around the shabby motel lobby. Where was that smell coming from? Probably a dead mouse behind the wall.

  “Hey, buddy. Your name?”

  “Oh, right. David. Uh, David Johnson.”

  The manager, whose smoke-stained mustache matched his yellowed fingers, scrawled it on a paper. “Right. Welcome to Vegas, David Johnson. Cash or credit?”

  “Cash.” He couldn’t leave any records. When the clerk gave him a figure, he handed over a small stack of bills.

  “So.” The clerk turned his back and proceeded to rummage through a drawer full of keys. “You here for business or pleasure?”

  “Neither.”

  “Just passing through?”

  “Yup. Just passing through.”

  The man handed him a greasy key card. Gordon shoved it in his pocket and tried not to grimace. Of course, he could have shelled out for a room at Vice, as much as it would have killed him to add more zeroes to Alex Markov’s bank account. Close proximity would have been nice but the hotel was completely full.

  No matter. He didn’t need a reservation at Vice for what he wanted to do.

  Lots of visitors to Vegas spent time wandering through the various properties. He wouldn’t look out of place strolling through Markov’s new palace.

  “How did you hear about us?” asked the manager.

  “I didn’t. I just asked the cabbie to bring me to the cheapest motel near the Strip.”

  The man’s face fell. “Oh. I was kind of hoping you’d heard about us.”

  Gordon gritted his teeth. “What room am I in?”

  “You know, back in the day, visitors chose to stay here. But now, everyone wants a fancy hotel with all the bells and whistles. In my day, tourism was simple. People were simple. Back then, tourists didn’t need magic shows and oxygen bars and table service. All they needed from their Vegas vacations were chips in their pockets, a hot buffet meal or two, and a fling with a couple of topless showgirls. Now that, my friend, was the life.”

  “I’m sure it was. Can I get my room number now?”

  “Of course, most of my best customers are dead now. Tell that to my three ex-wives, those greedy bitches.”

  Gordon took a deep breath. Just give the old airbag a minute and he’ll run out of steam.

  “I just can’t compete anymore. It’s like a new resort springs up every day, either that, or some snotty hotshot is offering up Celine Dion on a platter. Hey, did you hear that Russian guy Alex Markov just opened up a new nightclub? Did you see the picture from the grand opening? Surrounded by young honeys, he was. I bet that dirty immigrant gets all the ass he wants. They probably let him fuck them sideways too. Some guys get all the luck.”

  Just the mention of Markov’s name made Gordon’s blood boil. “I really don’t care who Alex Markov is sleeping with.”

  “Oh, yeah?” The man waved his pinky finger. “Are you funny? Because I don’t need those kinds of shenanigans in my establishment.”

  “My room. Please.” />
  “Fine, fine.” The man checked his ledger and made a note. “Number fifteen, next to the ice machine. Oh, and don’t kick it if it doesn’t work right away. You need to give it a minute.”

  Gordon picked up his bag and headed down the hall.

  “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Johnson. Pleasant chatting with you.”

  Gordon didn’t care if he’d offended him. This little sojourn wasn’t about making new friends in Las Vegas, and he certainly didn’t want to be that guy’s friend.

  This trip was about making Markov pay.

  ***

  Alex sat at his streamlined desk Thursday morning and fired up his laptop so he could check his emails. He glanced once out the window but the activity out on the Strip barely registered.

  Something else was on his mind, the same thing that had been on his mind all night long.

  Dana Hamill.

  He wanted her.

  He wanted her the way he’d wanted that glass of water at three in the morning, after he’d awakened parched. It had been a long time since he’d desired anyone that way.

  Considering the way his one-track mind worked, he’d get little peace until he could make his daydreams a reality.

  It had been a couple of years since Alex had trained himself to keep his emotions at bay, ever since things started to sour with Shannon. It was just easier that way.

  Dana brought those emotions back, as well as several others he hadn’t felt before. When he’d spotted her holding back tears in the alcove that day, a cyclone of feeling had whipped through his body. Most powerful of all was the need to make someone pay for those tears.

  When she’d been drunk on slushies, he’d been plagued by worry and an overwhelming need to protect her.

  And now, after admitting he was flirting with her? His curiosity was killing him.

  Yeah, right. You just want to sleep with her.

  Who could blame him?

  Dana was gorgeous, although he suspected she might not agree with him right now. There was a gentle slope to her shoulders that suggested a lack of confidence, and yet she clearly had no problem speaking her mind.

  It wasn’t that she lacked confidence.

  Someone had tried to destroy it.

  That made him angry.

  Surely, she wasn’t pining over her ex any longer. He might not know her well, but something told him she’d exorcised those demons with him that night at the tiki bar.

  Whatever it was, it went deeper than getting dumped by some loser named Tommy.

  Leave her alone. It’s none of your business.

  If it had been any other woman, he might have succeeded. Because it was Dana, he had a bizarre compulsion to make things better. Maybe it was because when they’d first met, he’d seen her at her lowest. Their encounter, so unresolved, had caused him to become obsessed.

  He had a chance to resolve things now, one way or the other.

  He checked the clock on his laptop. Nine in the morning. How was it his eyes felt so heavy so early in the day?

  Marissa had warned him about burning the candle at both ends. She was probably right, but with a party tonight, he had no choice but to power through the day.

  Coffee. He needed more coffee.

  As he walked over to the coffee machine in his office, his thoughts turned to Dana over and over again. Why the fascination for this particular woman?

  Why not? There were plenty of reasons to like her.

  She was smart and successful. He knew because he’d Googled her and found her professional bio listed on the local tourism board website. Dana was responsible for bringing thousands of convention delegates to Vegas every year. She’d won awards for her work. Her resume, listed on LinkedIn, read like a dream.

  If they’d met in different circumstances, he would have offered her a job.

  She obviously had a good heart. After all, here she was at Vice, trying to make her divorced sister feel better. He could tell family meant something to her. That, in turn, meant something to him.

  And, as his cock reminded him on a regular basis, her body was a temptation he couldn’t ignore.

  Any man with half a brain would be interested in Dana for any of those reasons. For Alex though, it was something about her eyes. There was a sadness there, one she was trying hard to keep hidden, and it tugged at him. It compelled him to fix it for her, to fix everything for her.

  Whatever the reason, he was spending way too much time thinking about her. He couldn’t afford to spend time wondering about the woes of strangers, not even the beautiful ones with sad eyes.

  He certainly had a shit ton of work to get through before tonight’s party.

  He wanted Dana to come. He hadn’t just been flirting for kicks with her yesterday. He’d been testing the waters and her reactions led him to believe she might be receptive to more than just flirting. She’d had plenty of opportunities to tell him to take a hike but she hadn’t. Every lick of her lips and each halted breath convinced him she was just as interested in him as he was in her.

  It wasn’t enough living off memories of having her in that tacky bathroom.

  He wanted to get her into his bed.

  Tonight, at the party, he would leave her in no doubt as to his feelings.

  Shaking his head, Alex clicked on a folder icon on his screen and tried to get something accomplished. It was only then he noticed the small pile of mail left behind by his assistant. He flipped quickly through the letters. One caught his attention because there was no return address. It was in a plain envelope, his name printed on the front on a label. Figuring it was a piece of junk mail he could dismiss easily enough, he opened it.

  Inside was a single sheet of standard paper with one word printed on it.

  MURDERER

  He reread the letter although he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if the foul message might change, and the last time he checked, he had 20/20 vision. He hadn’t read it wrong.

  Bile crept into Alex’s throat but he swallowed it.

  He checked out the envelope again but nothing gave him any indication as to the sender. There wasn’t even a stamp.

  Someone had hand delivered it.

  A familiar image sprang to mind, one Alex had wrestled with in his nightmares for months. Shannon, prostrate at the pool’s edge, her hair caked in blood.

  No.

  The letter was some sort of cruel prank. Everyone knew his history, and the Deans hadn’t stopped talking about the circumstances surrounding their daughter’s death. They insisted on dredging up bad memories, turning a harsh light on his failing relationship with Shannon.

  Thanks to them and their misguided sense of blame, others had jumped on the bandwagon.

  He would have to check with his assistant. Maybe he would remember if someone had dropped the letter off.

  Who would send him something like this?

  Someone lashing out over some petty jealousy, perhaps. Liam had told Alex that when he opened the casinos, a lot of people had resented his success. That’s all this was, someone trying to make him feel unsettled because he was the new kid on the block.

  He knew for a fact others had wanted to buy the casinos from Liam, but his friend hadn’t entertained those offers. In fact, he’d snubbed them. He could see how some might resent Alex for swooping in and taking the reins.

  Unfortunately for them, he didn’t appreciate pranks, especially not ones that took so little thought. If someone out there wanted to intimidate him, he should have tried harder.

  Alex was about to wad up the letter and envelope and toss them into the garbage bin, but decided not to. Instead, he tucked them into an empty folder in his desk drawer.

  Something told him to keep them.

  As if he needed evidence of what some people thought of him.

  Biting back his disgust, he returned to his work, but eventually his head dropped to his hands.

  He could deal with someone trying to scare him.

  His breaths grew shallow.

  If any
thing, it was the shame that would do him in.

  ***

  Tommy: Hi Dana. I was hoping we could talk.

  No matter how long Dana stared at the incoming text, she couldn’t absorb its message. She hadn’t had any contact with Tommy since the day at the hospital. Seeing his name on her cellphone display was as bizarre and off-putting as finding a ghost in her closet.

  He hadn’t bothered to check on her once, and now he wanted to talk to her?

  “I don’t think so.”

  Whatever he had to say, it was too little, too late.

  Gnawing on her lip, she put her phone down. She walked over to her suite window, hoping the scenery would take her mind off Tommy.

  It didn’t work. No matter how hard she concentrated on the looping, red whorls of the rollercoaster at New York-New York, she couldn’t shake the crackling ball of anger in the pit of her stomach.

  “Stop it. Just stop it.”

  She had Alex’s party to attend tonight, and she still had to put on her makeup. There was no room on her agenda for wondering about Tommy.

  Tonight, she would start over.

  After being stuck in the mire for weeks, she’d promised herself this party would be her changing moment.

  Grabbing her makeup case from her luggage, Dana marched into the bathroom and turned on the light. In her line of work, she’d seen a lot of hotel rooms but she’d never encountered such flattering lighting as in the Vice bathrooms. Instead of washing her in a sickly glow, the light bathed her in soft tones that made her skin look smoother and unblemished. It was almost as if someone had sprinkled fairy dust in there. She didn’t know what kind of crack Alex was piping into the hotel bathrooms, but she should ask him if he was willing to bottle the stuff so she could bring some home.

  She’d get a chance tonight at his party.

  She hadn’t been far off the mark when she’d expected Bea and Jessica to flip when they heard about the event. When she’d told them about his invitation, their jaws had dropped in unison. It had taken everything in her not to grab some tissue, roll it into tiny balls, and lob them into their mouths.