Covet (Vegas Sins Series Book 2)

by Rosanna Leo

  He didn’t turn it away. He drank it down.

  Someone started talking about a movie premiere, but five minutes later, he couldn’t remember which one.

  For that, he’d have to care.

  He sat in the same seat for an hour, barely participating in the conversations around him. It was all the same to his guests. They might defer to him but, at the end of the day, they didn’t care about him either. It was more important for them to be seen in his company.

  Out on the pool deck, people frolicked. Celebrity guests laughed, their heads thrown back, their brilliant white teeth lighting up the room. Connections and liaisons were established. Love affairs began and ended.

  There was a time when he enjoyed being among these people, when the fantasy turned him on.

  Tonight, he couldn’t have cared less.

  At the end of the hour, a woman approached. He knew her well. Rose Harding was a starlet. Her latest film had been a hit at Sundance. A beautiful brunette, clad in a form-fitting purple gown, she had the eye of every man in the VIP suite.

  But she sat next to him.

  “Hi, Alex. Long time, no see.”

  “Hi, Rose.”

  “Congratulations on Covet. This is the first chance I’ve had to visit.”

  “Glad you could make it.”

  “Me too. I needed to get away from work for the weekend.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Not really, but my new leading man has shit for brains. He’s driving me crazy. He’s never acted a day in his life, but he’s prettier than I am. He makes Brad Pitt look like Quasimodo. You watch. He’ll be the toast of awards season.”

  “Poor you. Life’s hard, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t tease.” She grinned. “You have no idea what I deal with on a daily basis.” She nodded at his splint. “How did you hurt yourself?”

  “I punched a wall.”

  “Ooh. I never pegged you as a violent man.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And what made you want to punch a wall?”

  He shook his head, not wanting to get into it.

  “There are only so many reasons a man would cause harm to himself. Guilt, shame, love. Or maybe the lack of it. So which one is it?”

  Alex stared at the pool deck.

  “Ah, so we’re not talking about it. That’s okay.” Rose scooted closer and turned her attention toward the pool as well. “I love what you’ve done with the pool.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s a beautiful night and the water looks inviting. I see your splint is removable. Care to take a dip with me?”

  “I don’t feel like swimming.”

  “Who said anything about swimming?”

  Alex looked at his lap.

  “There’s something different about you tonight, Alex.”

  “Same as I’ve ever been.”

  “No, there’s definitely something. You look…lonely.”

  “Look around, Rose. I’m surrounded by friends.” His flat voice didn’t sound convincing.

  “Of course, you are. And you know as well as I do the loneliest place in the world is often a crowded room, where everyone is watching your every move.”

  A male guest at the bar held up his glass, in a silent toast to Rose. He looked her up and down as he drank.

  “They’re watching you tonight, not me.”

  “Boring.” She rolled her eyes. “Talk to me, Alex. Tell me why you have that whole Byronic hero thing going on.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Now, now. I recognize a tortured hero when I see one. Didn’t anyone ever tell you? Women love damaged goods. Ask any woman here and she’d offer to take you home so she could fix you.”

  “Is that what you want? To fix these damaged goods?”

  “Not at all. I mean, don’t get me wrong. The dark circles under your eyes are mighty appealing, but I’m not tender-hearted enough to think I can repair you. I’d really just rather fuck you.”

  There was a time when Alex might have been shocked by her candor.

  Not anymore.

  The man at the bar started walking toward them. Alex inclined his head. “You’re about to get a similar offer.”

  She clicked her tongue in disdain. “I don’t feel like playing with the plebs tonight. I’d rather spend some time with my gorgeous host. I hear you live onsite. I don’t suppose I could see the master’s chambers.” She put her hand on his thigh.

  Alex met Rose’s gaze. Desire shone there, clear as day.

  Rose Harding was exactly the sort of woman the world expected to see on his arm, the sort of woman Dana expected to see on his arm. Talented and sexy, Rose oozed confidence. She traveled easily through his world, accustomed to privilege and excess. She spoke her mind and took what she needed.

  It would be so easy with Rose. They’d be an item in no time. He could already see the headlines. Hotelier and actress set a date.

  He’d partied with Rose for a couple of years now and they’d talked at length. He knew her as well as he knew any of his patrons. Certainly, he knew enough to understand there wouldn’t be any concerns about children or the lack of children. In fact, she’d broken up with her last boyfriend because he’d wanted a family and she didn’t. She was perfectly content acting and partying. Hell, a woman like Rose would be gone on movie shoots half the time. To some, that would be ideal. They could do their own things and would meet up periodically to smile for the cameras on the red carpet.

  The perfect relationship for his cold heart.

  If he had an ounce of sense in his head, he would grab Rose by the hand and never look back.

  “I’m going to share a secret with you. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time,” she whispered in his ear. “Take me to your room. You could do anything you want to me. And I do mean anything.”

  I should have stayed far away from you, Alex Markov.

  Dana seemed so far away right now, she might as well have been in the North Pole.

  What was she doing right now? Was she thinking of him or had she managed to banish him completely from her thought processes?

  The hand on his thigh crept higher. He gently removed it.

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” Rose cocked a perfectly-groomed eyebrow. “I did mention the fucking, right? Lots of fucking?”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “So, you’re brushing me off?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She sat up straight, her head quirked at an odd angle on her long neck. “Interesting.”

  “There’s still the guy at the bar.”

  “Him? Do you see his outfit? I don’t think so.”

  “I’m sorry.” Only he wasn’t.

  “Hmm. I don’t think I’ve been rejected since high school. This is a novel feeling. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.”

  “I think you’ll struggle through.” He stood and set his glass down on a table. “Have a good night, Rose.”

  Alex turned from the starlet’s wide-eyed gaze and walked out of Covet.

  As he headed back to his apartment, he wished he could talk to Shannon just then. Despite knowing he’d never cheated on her, it couldn’t have been easy for her to see him in this environment with people like Rose. It wasn’t so much that Rose was a bad sort, but she never heard the word no. So few of his customers ever heard the word no.

  Shannon had come to the club with him many times. How often would she have heard hushed conversations about him? How many times would she have had to tolerate other women making passes?

  He may not have acted on them but they still happened.

  And he should have done more to reassure her.

  He had another chance now with Dana. He wouldn’t screw this one up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the phone rang that weekend, Dana thought it was her parents again. Ever since telling her folks about her diagnosis, her mom had been bombarding her with emails and phone calls. Most of them referenced articles about �
��fixing” infertility. So far, Dana had received articles telling her to cook with coconut oil, to drink more water, to avoid stress, and to minimize her exposure to household chemicals.

  It was driving her up the wall.

  She answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “You’re alive.”

  Tommy. Damn. In her quest to bury herself in work, she’d forgotten to get back to him. Okay, in truth, she may also have avoided him on purpose a few times.

  “You haven’t returned any of my calls, Dana.”

  “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Why? Haven’t we said everything there is to say?”

  “No, actually. Look, it’s important. Can I swing by? I never had a chance to give you my copies of your key anyway.”

  “Don’t worry. I had the locks changed. You’re good.”

  “Dana, please.”

  “Can’t you just tell me this important piece of information over the phone?”

  “No. I’m downstairs in the foyer. Will you buzz me in?”

  “Shit, Tommy. I don’t need any of your drama.”

  He was quiet for a second. “Please.”

  “Fine. You get five minutes.” Rattled, Dana ended the call and hit the buzzer that would allow him into the condo. She checked her reflection in the foyer mirror, although she had no idea why. She’d stopped worrying about how she might appear to him.

  The knock on her door shocked her into awareness and readied her for a fight. She wasn’t sure what Tommy wanted, but figured it couldn’t be good. She whipped open the door. “Well?”

  The Tommy who stood outside her unit looked so much different than the man she’d left behind in the hospital cafeteria. For one thing, he was hunched at the shoulders, clearly nervous about being there. There were some dark circles under his eyes.

  Who cared? She had dark circles under her eyes too. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately, despite being back in her own comfy bed.

  “Can I come in?”

  She held open the door and Tommy walked inside. “Feel free to leave your shoes on. You won’t be staying long.”

  “Boy.” He took up a spot near her couch, but didn’t sit. “You really hate me, huh?”

  “I don’t hate you, but I’ve decided it’s perfectly fine for me not to like you.”

  “I get it.” He gestured toward the couch. “Do you mind sitting with me for a second?”

  Dana sat. Tommy sat at the opposite end of her couch. The last time they’d sat together there, they’d watched a romantic movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Afterward, they’d made love. She banished those memories.

  “How was your week at Vice?”

  “Could we not do this? The whole small talk thing? I’d prefer if you just told me the reason you’ve been texting me every day for the past couple of weeks.”

  “Okay.” He inhaled deeply. “I, um, I’m with someone and I didn’t want you to hear about it through the grapevine.”

  “I hardly think that’s news, Tommy. I figured you’d meet someone at some point. In fact, I haven’t exactly been sitting here by my lonesome—”

  “She’s pregnant, Dana. Tiffany’s pregnant.”

  “Pregnant? But that would mean you…”

  “I’m sorry.” He paused, letting the news and the dates sink in. They hadn’t been apart long enough for him to find a new girlfriend and impregnate her via traditional timelines. Tommy Boy had gotten a head start.

  “How far along is she?”

  “Five months.”

  “Five months, huh? Wow.”

  “I’m sorry, Dana.”

  “You cheated on me. This just gets better and better.”

  “It was a moment of weakness on my part. That night I went clubbing for my brother’s stag…it just happened.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t get to use the old ‘it just happened’ excuse. I remember you coming home that night. You weren’t drunk. You knew what you were doing.”

  “Like I said, it was a moment of weakness.”

  “Oh, my God. That day in the hospital cafeteria…you already knew. Didn’t you?”

  He was silent. Red in the face and silent.

  “You already had an exit plan. My diagnosis just gave you the out you needed.”

  “I’m sorry. You deserve so much better.”

  “And what about Tiffany? I almost feel sorry for her. Does she even realize how she fits into your plan of convenience?”

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  “Forgive you? Tommy, you’re lucky if I don’t slaughter you where you sit. You sicken me.”

  “I guess I deserve that. I feel badly, Dana, but I hope you understand this is actually a good thing for me. I’m excited about the baby and Tiffany’s a good woman.”

  “Hmm. Did Tiffany know you had a fiancée when you slept with her?”

  More silence.

  “Right. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but that means Tiffany’s not such a good woman. And you know what? You suck as a man!” She stood, shaking in outrage. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

  He stood.

  “Don’t ever call me, Tommy. Don’t ever text me. Don’t send me baby photos or invite me to any wedding showers. I hope you rot in hell.”

  “But…”

  “And you know what else? I feel sorry for that child.” She pointed at the door. “Fuck you.”

  Tommy exited without another word. Dana slammed the door behind him.

  When she finally roused herself from her spot in the foyer, she walked into the bedroom and lay down on her bed.

  The phone rang. Her parents trying her again, no doubt.

  She didn’t answer.

  ***

  The clock on Dana’s bedside table said two a.m.

  Two in the fucking morning and sleep wouldn’t come anywhere near her.

  She rolled over in bed and squeezed her eyes shut. The minutes crawled. Hunger and thirst alternately plagued her, causing her to toss. She tried rolling onto her stomach. Whenever she couldn’t sleep, laying on her belly seemed to help. For some reason, in that position, sleep always overwhelmed her.

  This time, it didn’t.

  On her stomach, her cheek to the pillow, she was too conscious of the ache inside her. Laying still, her hearing muffled on one side, she became aware of her heartbeat. The steady pulse grew louder in her head, echoing in a void.

  She was a vacuum. Tumbleweeds rolled around inside her, scratching the walls of her womb.

  Kicking off the covers, Dana launched herself out of bed and began pacing in the dark. When she stubbed her big toe on the corner of a table, she shouted. “Fuck!” Grunting, she fell back on the loveseat opposite her bed, clutching her toe. “Fucking piece of fucked up shit. Fuck you. Fuck. You.”

  Startled by her own outburst, Dana reached for the closest light stand and flicked the switch. She caught her reflection in the mirror hanging opposite.

  A haunted woman stared back at her, one she didn’t recognize. Her tired eyes, so dark and lined with shadow, made her look older than her years. The lines around her mouth seemed deeper. Pain was etched in every crease.

  Dana hated that woman. She hated Tommy. She hated fucking Tiffany.

  He just had to go and cheat on her with a Tiffany. She’d never met a single Tiffany she liked. It started in grade two when Tiffany Atkinson pulled her hair in class, initiating a cycle of bullying. It had all gone downhill with the Tiffanys since then.

  Now, as darkness put a chokehold on her room, she wanted to unburden herself.

  She wanted to talk to Alex. More than anything, she craved his company.

  Which wasn’t possible.

  She couldn’t be that person, and certainly not after leaving his last text unanswered.

  If she ran to him now, for sex or solace or whatever the hell she needed, it would be just plain wrong.

  Because he wouldn’t turn her away.

  Or would he?
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  Walking gingerly on her sore foot, Dana walked into the kitchen. She opened her fridge and reached for a bottle of spring water hiding at the back. Right next to it was half a bottle of white wine she’d forgotten. She had opened it up a few weeks ago when a friend came over for dinner and must not have finished it.

  Right now, it looked eminently more drinkable than spring water.

  Dana hauled the bottle out of the fridge and walked over to her sink. She didn’t bother to grab a wine glass, or even a plastic cup. She unscrewed the lid and lifted the bottle to her lips.

  All at once, she remembered that first night at Covet, when she’d drunk so much she couldn’t even find her own purse.

  All her breath rushed out of her lungs.

  She poured the contents of the bottle out into the sink and watched the liquid disappear down the drain.

  Fighting tears, she grabbed her cell phone from where it was charging on the kitchen counter.

  No new messages. Of course.

  Alex’s last text was still at the top of her message feed.

  Alex: I hope you’re doing okay.

  She wasn’t okay. In truth, she probably hadn’t been okay for a while.

  Would he still care?

  Feeling like a fool, Dana tapped out a quick message. She wouldn’t ask for help and didn’t want to come across as needy. She would ignore the fact that she’d never needed him more and would simply acknowledge his text. She should have done it the moment he’d sent it.

  Dana: I’m sorry I never replied.

  There. Just an apology. He could do with it whatever he needed to do. She wasn’t asking for anything, wasn’t begging to feel his touch on her body, no matter how much she wanted it. The message might be coming through at two in the morning but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sent in the spirit of politeness.

  It was simply an expression of her regret and she didn’t expect a response.

  But she got one, less than two minutes later.

  Alex: It’s okay. You’re up late too. Can’t sleep?