by Rosanna Leo
“Covet will be special.”
“If you tossed broken peanut shells on the floor and put up a mechanical bull and called it ‘fresh and exciting,’ everyone would still buy it because you said it. Once word gets out that you designed the new club at Vice, everyone will want in.”
“You flatter me.” She started to walk away but turned back. “We’re okay, right?”
“We’re okay. And thanks.”
She nodded. “I promise you, by the time we’re done here, even the ghosts of the Brat Pack will be trying to get in.”
Ghosts.
He could do without those.
One was more than enough.
Chapter Three
If Dana had to repeat herself one more time, she would scream. Swallowing her outrage, she looked the blond hotel desk clerk in the eye and forced a smile. “Yes, I understand Vice is fully booked. What I need you to understand is that I booked two double rooms months ago.”
Even though every one of her hairs was in place, tucked into an elegant chignon, the clerk smoothed a hand over her updo. She clicked the keys on her keyboard one more time. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hamill. I don’t know what to say. I can’t find your booking anywhere in the Vice database. Are you sure you didn’t book some other hotel on the Strip?”
Dana’s pulse sounded all through her head. “No. My sister wanted Vice for her divorce party so I booked Vice. I have a confirmation number.”
“But your confirmation number doesn’t pull up anything in our system.”
“That’s unfortunate. I also have a confirmation email.” She pulled up the reservation on her phone and showed the clerk the email. “See? I’m not making this up to get a free room. I’m not a scammer.”
“I never suggested you were making it up. I just want to get to the bottom of this little issue.”
Little issue? “With all due respect, this isn’t little to me. My sister and her friends are on their way from the airport as we speak. You’re asking me to tell them there’s no room at the inn. This is unacceptable.”
“Of course, and I do apologize if the error was on our part.”
If the error was on their part? Stay calm, Dana.
Her temper had been getting the better of her ever since the day of the hospital fiasco. Tommy hadn’t called once, not once, to see how she was coping with her diagnosis and his ignorance infuriated her.
What did she expect? The man called off the wedding. He was out there somewhere, rejoicing in his freedom.
She still hadn’t told anyone what happened, and she knew it was wrong, but every time she opened her mouth to tell a friend or family member, the words wouldn’t materialize. When a couple of friends had recently announced their pregnancies, it had taken everything in her just to congratulate them.
Nothing like being a total downer by mentioning her condition.
As for her parents, they were starting to show signs of concern. Her mom asked why Tommy hadn’t come to recent Sunday dinners, and she’d fobbed her off with excuses about his work and new projects. Although her mother often peered at her, questions in her eyes, she hadn’t pushed the matter.
Yet.
Luckily, her dad was a little more oblivious. And then there was her sister Anise. Dana had managed to keep the topic at bay with her as well.
There was only one other person in the world who knew about Tommy dumping her. Alex, the stranger from the tiki bar. She doubted he’d blabbed it to anyone.
Alex of the sexy cat eyes and the amazing core body strength.
Damn, she’d taken that image to bed with her several times.
Maybe she shouldn’t have bolted that day. It hardly mattered. There was nothing she could do about it now.
“Let me check again,” said the clerk. “We have had a lot of calls lately. Ever since Mr. Markov opened Covet, it’s been insane here. Everyone wants a room.”
Dana had heard about the new club and had even told a few clients about it. It was supposed to be like something out of a dream. A contact in the industry had visited once and hadn’t stopped talking about it.
You should see it, Dana. At the end of the night, everyone jumps into the big pool. They have floaties made for couples and the best drinks in town. People line up around the block to get in.
She had to admit, she was curious to see it, and clearly so was the rest of the world. Still, it wasn’t her issue if Vice was having trouble coping with the demand for rooms. She had booked her room way before the new owner showed up. Not my problem. “You’re telling me you’re sold out because of a new nightclub.”
“We sure are. It’s an amazing place. It was designed by Marissa Flores. She does outstanding work.”
“Wonderful.”
“Now everyone wants a room.”
Dana was in no mood to discuss the design. “Please, check again.”
Just then, a child’s cry caught Dana’s attention. Over to her right, a young couple was checking into the hotel. Hopefully, they were having more luck than she was.
A squirming toddler clung to the mother’s leg, wanting to be picked up. “Mommy.” The little girl did a dance of impatience. When the child realized she wasn’t succeeding at getting her mother’s attention, she reached for her father’s leg. He paid her no attention, too busy focusing on the desk clerk’s description of the buffet.
Waiting for resolution on her reservation, Dana kept an eye on the toddler.
The parents continued to ignore her. The girl began to back away from the check-in counter. She moved by degrees, with the sneaky concentration of any toddler who’d just decided to make a break for it. As she continued to back away, she almost bumped into a group of rowdy men passing through the lobby. Too busy drinking beer from enormous glasses, the men didn’t even notice the child and didn’t seem to realize they were about to plow into her.
Dana scurried forward and directed the little one back to the desk. “Come this way, honey. You don’t want to get lost.” She tapped the mother on the shoulder. “Your child almost ran off.”
Neither of the parents said a word of thanks. The mother just rolled her eyes and grabbed the girl by the arm. “Lily, how many times do I have to tell you to stay put?”
Sure. Blame the child.
“Ms. Hamill?”
Dana bit her tongue. It didn’t seem fair that some people who had babies ignored them, while others couldn’t have them at all.
Stop that. She’d been living with her diagnosis for three months now. The key word was living. She’d moved on. The diagnosis of infertility might break some people, but she wouldn’t let it break her.
“Ms. Hamill?”
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“Just that we do work closely with a number of the other hotels on the Strip. It’s a busy week in town, but I’ve heard there might be openings at the Flamingo and Excalibur. I would be happy to see if we can find you something at one of those properties.”
Okay. The time for calm was officially over. “Excalibur, huh? We booked Vice, the most sophisticated hotel on the Strip, and you want to send me to a place that has a fire-breathing dragon in the lobby?” Dana checked the clerk’s name tag. “I’m sorry, Cecilia. That just won’t do.”
“But we have no rooms.”
“Check again. I bet if you try really hard, you’ll find a couple.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand, believe me. Did I mention I work for the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Association? I’ve spent the last few years bringing major conventions to the Strip. I have worked with every hotel and have sent a great deal of revenue in Liam Doyle’s direction.”
“Mr. Doyle no longer owns Vice. Mr. Markov is the new owner.”
Dana’s frustration erupted in a crazed laugh. “You’re missing the point, Cecilia! I’m trying to tell you I have done this before. Now I’m not blaming you. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, someone else mislaid my reservation. Mistakes happen. Systems go down. I get it. I’m
just asking you to fix it. Maybe you could bump someone else and send them to Excalibur.”
“Ms. Hamill.”
“Look, we’re wasting time here. I want to speak to a manager.”
“I’m sure my manager would be happy to talk to you but she’s in a meeting.”
“Great.” Dana’s voice cracked. “Please. I don’t like causing scenes. I’ve had…a lot on my plate lately. Woman to woman, help me out here.”
A deep voice sounded over Dana’s shoulder. “Maybe I can help.”
Dana froze.
That voice.
The last time Dana heard a voice like that, it was cursing softly in her ear as its owner fucked her into oblivion.
Help me, Jesus.
She turned, degree by degree. It couldn’t be.
And yet, everything she remembered was there. The cat eyes, the sun-kissed hair, the long, hot body.
This Alex looked different, though. The stubbled, jeans-clad creature from Joe’s was gone. He’d been replaced by a man who held himself with an easy authority. Dressed in an expensive grey suit, he looked as if he’d be just as much at home on a catwalk as in a casino. His short hair shimmered under the hotel lights, a deep golden color that would make most trophy wives salivate. His lips compressed as he took in the shock on her face.
Various emotions flickered in his pale eyes. Disbelief, concern, even anger. She understood them all and would have felt them too.
It was the last emotion that caused her heart to sink.
Indifference. The Alex from her fantasies now looked at her with indifference.
She supposed she couldn’t blame him after abandoning him in a tiki bar bathroom.
As everything became clear, his name slipped from her lips in a whisper. “Alex.”
He was Alex Markov. No wonder he’d looked so familiar that night. She’d seen his face in trade magazines a few times and also in the newspapers, ever since his girlfriend died at that resort. She just hadn’t connected the man from Joe’s with the man in the headlines.
Of course, she hadn’t been at her best that day, caught up in her own woes. She could have run into Prince Harry and she probably wouldn’t have recognized him either.
Cecilia paled. “Mr. Markov, I don’t want to trouble you.”
The famous Mr. Markov. Unbelievable.
“It’s no trouble.” He extended his hand to Dana, his face blank. “I’m Alex Markov.”
She resisted the urge to say “Oh, yeah. I know who you are.” Instead, she just shook his hand and played along. “Dana Hamill.”
He held her hand a moment too long. As his fingers touched hers, something in her belly twitched in cruel anticipation.
She’d felt that touch on her thighs, her hips, between her legs, and had spent most nights since reliving the moment.
Let it go.
He asked Cecilia to bring him up to speed but his gaze remained trained on Dana. Those eyes. She hadn’t been able to ascertain their exact color the night at Joe’s because the lights were dim, but she recognized the shade now.
They were the color of green amber.
Her mom had a green amber pendant years ago. When Dana was little, she used to hold it and stare into the stone, imagining fairy worlds in its flecks of brown and gold.
Alex Markov’s eyes filled her with the same sense of wonder.
She’d thought him enigmatic a few months ago. Now, he was surrounded by more mystery than Agatha Christie.
When the clerk finished explaining, he spoke to her in a lowered voice. “I understand we have some fifth-floor suites set aside.”
Cecilia angled away from Dana and spoke in the same hushed tone. “The penthouse level? But Mr. Markov, those suites are for VIPs. Mr. Doyle always liked having a few suites available for impromptu visits. High rollers sometimes drop in unannounced.”
Markov’s jaw clenched. “Mr. Doyle no longer owns this hotel and I don’t see a reason to hold rooms for guests who may or may not grace us with their presence.” He turned to Dana, his face a mask of emotionless professionalism. “Ms. Hamill, I’d like to apologize for the mix-up. We have a few new systems and everyone is getting used to them.”
“These things happen.”
“Yes.” He looked her up and down. “They do.”
“I work in the industry too, but as I mentioned to Cecilia here, my sister is counting on staying at Vice. She’s had a rough time lately and I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“Of course not.” He commandeered the clerk’s keyboard. “Bear with me. I’m new at this.”
Another flash from those green eyes awakened something inside her, feelings she’d suppressed since leaving Alex behind in that bar. She hadn’t meant to run away that night and certainly wouldn’t have run from him. But after asking Alex to give her some privacy, the impact of her actions had weighed on her.
What she’d done in that bathroom had been so uncharacteristic of her. Hell, she’d practically begged him to take her. She’d been consumed with guilt the moment the deed was done, even though she owed Tommy no allegiance whatsoever. She could sleep with whoever the hell she wanted. Still, shaking with unfamiliar emotion, Dana had bailed.
Ever since, she had been numb. She knew it was just the diagnosis wearing on her. She’d get over it eventually, no matter how it clawed at her.
Or so she told herself every morning upon wakening.
It was still hard enough facing people when she felt as if they could somehow see into her, and understand she was different. She had barely made eye contact with anyone since the day at the hospital, worried they’d see something horrible reflected in her eyes.
But that’s not what she’d seen in Alex Markov’s eyes. At Joe’s, his eyes had glittered and narrowed in appreciation, flitting back to her again and again.
Not anymore.
He probably couldn’t bear to look at her now.
He made a few tentative clicks on the keyboard. “I understand you were supposed to have two standard double rooms.”
“Yes.”
“Four ladies in your party?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you, booking you into four VIP suites. No additional charge.”
VIP suites? “That’s very generous of you but we don’t need big suites,” said Dana. “Any standard room will do. We’re happy to bunk together. I only want what I reserved. I don’t want to make insane demands.”
“And you haven’t,” he replied. “I’m offering them, as a ‘thank you’ for sending so many convention delegates our way.”
Or a bribe to keep her mouth shut?
“Did I hear you say the occasion was a divorce party?” he asked.
“Yes.” Did he remember their conversation from that night? “My sister’s.”
“Right.” Another flash from those eyes told her he remembered. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Thanks.”
He considered her for another moment. Her face heated under the scrutiny. He’d looked at her the same way at the tiki bar, right before she’d asked him to follow her into the ladies’ room.
Once again, she squirmed.
“Well,” he said. “We’ll put a complimentary bottle of champagne in each room. To help make a difficult occasion a bit better.”
“Mr. Markov—”
“It’s Alex.”
Sure. No sense being so formal with a man who’d been inside her. “Alex—”
“It’s already ordered.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Sorry for your trouble. You’ll handle the rest of the details, Cecilia?”
“Yes, Mr. Markov.”
“Thanks.” He walked out from behind the desk and shook Dana’s hand again. “Enjoy your stay.”
“We will. Thank you.”
Without so much as a grin, Alex headed off in the direction of the casino.
“I’ll just need your credit card please, Ms. Hamill.”
“H
uh?”
“Your credit card?”
“Oh, right. Sure thing.” Dana burrowed in her purse and pulled out her Visa card.
“You’re getting quite the steal,” said Cecilia.
“It does seem that way. Look, thanks for your help. I wasn’t trying to be difficult.”
“Don’t give it another thought.” The woman finished up the reservation. “Everything’s confirmed. I’m happy we could make it better for you.”
Alex had made it better. He’d made it a whole lot better.
Suites at Vice. One for each of them. Amazing.
The clerk presented her with several key cards. “Your party is on the fifth floor. Because it’s the penthouse level, you will have access to a private set of elevators.”
Private elevators too? “Sounds exclusive.”
“Oh, it is. You’ll find the elevators to your right, around the corner. To activate them, just swipe your card. Enjoy.”
“Thank you.” Dana gathered her things and looked over her shoulder to get another glimpse of Alex’s retreating figure.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Another glimpse of that fine suit or perhaps a spark in those eyes. Maybe just some insight into what he was thinking when he’d put her up in the most expensive room in town.
Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it. Alex had already disappeared.
Would she see him again?
A part of her hoped so, if only to thank him.
And to apologize.
She didn’t imagine she could do that sort of thing on Trip Advisor.
***
Keep walking. Just keep walking.
Alex had to keep telling himself this. If he didn’t, he’d do something stupid like hurry back to Dana and pull her into his arms.
It was actually her, right here, in the last place he’d expected to find her.
He hadn’t even meant to stop when he heard a snippet of the conversation between Cecilia and their new guest. But after hearing Dana’s plea, he’d hoped to help in his professional capacity.
Then when he saw her, all the memories from that night came flooding back. At first, he had himself convinced she was just a Dana lookalike. His conviction lasted all of two seconds, if that. There was no denying it once he got a good look at her. In that split second, he’d catalogued all the attributes that had fascinated him at Joe’s. She was taller than the average woman, standing about five foot nine. Of course, because he was six foot three, she still looked cute and compact to him, even though her smooth legs seemed to stretch for miles.
