Can't Help Falling In Love (2 page)

But no one here at the Rock’n’Rolla needed to know that. Not yet. She had to handle
this perfectly because it was going to be hers. The lower the cost, the better she
looked.

When Randa felt a warm weight settle against her leg, she looked down to see the dog
looking up at her. She reached down and ran her hands over the dog’s head and fiddled
with her ears as she tried to figure out which gambit would work here.

“What kind of dog is she?” Randa asked as she stared into the dog’s eyes. She kissed
the flat spot right between the green bows before straightening up.

Tony’s face had thawed slightly, she was happy to see. When their eyes locked, Randa
had to remind herself to breathe slowly and evenly. She caught her breath when he
looked back at the computer and said, “Bloodhound. And pampered princess.”

For a minute, she got the feeling he was talking about her with the last part, but
his face was back to normal. Hard to read.

Before she could decide which play to try, a very short brunette came out to stand
next to Tony. “Hey, thanks for giving me a break. I can finish this up if you like.”
Her nametag said
Laura
. He smiled down at her and Randa was amazed at the difference that smile made. His
emotionless mask cracked and she could see respect and appreciation on his face.

Softer and gentler was a very good look for him. He was still tough, but that smile
seemed to say that if he ever fell in love, he’d make that woman his world. Maybe
he already had. She tried to ignore the sadness that came along with a nice twinge
of jealousy. If her father had his way, she’d always be second to something, whether
it was his hotel business or the collection of bikini models her father-approved fiancés
preferred.

The only way out of that was to get something that was hers. She needed her own place.
She would make her own decisions. People would listen to her. Maybe she had trouble
measuring up as a Whitmore, but she knew she could run a hotel. She wanted
this
hotel.

The first step in the acquisition plan was getting a room. Randa thanked her lucky
stars Laura had appeared, because Tony looked ready to show her the door, and she
pinned her hopes on this woman who had somehow tamed the beast. Maybe they were a
couple. Hopeless devotion would totally explain his lack of interest in her. She normally
had much better luck getting what she wanted from men than women, even married ones,
but this Tony guy wasn’t budging. Not with her anyway. Laura would clearly have better
luck. Randa cleared her throat as she shoved that annoying pang of doubt aside again.

She tilted her head and pasted on a smile. “Well, Laura, I’d like to check in but
Tony tells me you can’t accommodate me here.”

Laura frowned and shrugged a shoulder. “He’s right then.”

Randa leaned forward. “Really? Couldn’t you check for me? Or maybe I could talk to
the manager?” She didn’t want to go to the manager. She wanted to stay under the radar
for as long as she could, but to do that she needed a room. “I’d be willing to pay
extra, maybe double the room rate. I’ve just heard such good things and I know staying
here at the Rock’n’Rolla would make my Elvis Week one to remember.” She tried a “let’s
all be friends” smile.

Laura smiled back and shot a look at Tony. “Well, Ms… .”

Randa patted the desk. “Oh, please. It’s Miss Whitmore, but call me Randa.” She’d
struggled over whether or not to come in with a false identity but couldn’t figure
a way around the credit cards. And she’d been determined to do this on her own. Since
the kind of press she got was all charity events and no business, she was the least-known
Whitmore. As long as she fit in with the other hotel guests, there was no reason the
busy employees of the Rock’n’Rolla Hotel would decide to investigate. So she’d worn
Elvis attire. And she’d visit Graceland, and she would throw around a few “I love
Elvis” comments as needed.

If she’d had a bit more time, she’d have studied up a little, watched a movie or two,
but her father had given her this assignment and told her to get on a plane immediately.
Since she’d just broken his latest brokered engagement and he wasn’t very happy with
her, he’d told her to be gone a week. So she was less prepared than usual. As it was,
she was going to just have to pretend she belonged there and hope she convinced them.

Laura tilted her head as she studied her. “Well, Miss Whitmore, the truth is that
there are no hotel rooms available on Friday. And Tony is the manager. He would know
that better than anyone.”

Randa scratched the dog’s head and looked down into her warm eyes again as she tried
to figure out what to do. She didn’t want to be here at all, much less for a week.
But failure wasn’t an option.

She tried one more play. “I apologize. Of course I should have made a reservation.
I have no one to blame by myself. This is my first Elvis Week visit. I had no idea
what to expect.” She tried a lip quiver and let her shoulders slump in what she hoped
looked like dejection.

Neither Tony nor Laura bought it. She could tell by the looks on their faces. “Fine.
Give me the two nights.”

Laura looked up at Tony, then said, “Well, you know… maybe we could set you up
in one of the staff apartments. We’ve got a studio that’s empty.” She raised her eyebrows.
“It’s not a great room, but you’d have access to the rest of the hotel’s amenities.
If you’d like, you can stay on the first floor of the hotel for two nights and then
move on Friday.” There was some kind of gleam in Laura’s eyes as she made the offer,
but Randa couldn’t decide if it was amusement or calculation. Maybe both.

Tony huffed out a small breath but his face never changed.

Randa looked around at the lobby. “I don’t really want to stay anywhere else.” She
pulled out her credit card and slid it across the desk to Laura. “Thank you so much
for your help. That sounds like an excellent plan.”

Laura nodded and entered her credit card information. “That’s fine, Miss Whitmore.
You’ll need to see me or Tony here at the desk on Friday and we’ll get you set up.”

Randa shot a look at Tony but he hadn’t moved. He was watching Laura but Randa couldn’t
tell what he was thinking. Or if he was thinking. Or really even if he was breathing.
What an annoying quality in a man.

“What’s the dog’s name?” Randa looked back down at the dog to escape his stare.

“Misty. She’s kind of the hotel mascot.” Laura slid her card back across the table
along with a key.

Randa did her best to ignore the sadness that came with imagining the hotel mascot
with no hotel. Because when this became a Whitmore property, Misty would be evicted
for sure. She gave the dog a final pat and said, “All right. Point me in the right
direction.”

Laura nodded. “You’ve picked a fun time to visit, Miss Whitmore. We’ve got quite a
few fan club events lined up for Elvis Week here at the hotel. You will see monitors
in both hallways and in the elevator listing times and locations as well as information
on everything happening at Graceland this week.” When Laura paused, Randa clasped
her hands in front of her like she could hardly wait to get started on all the Elvis-ing.
“Tony’s going to take you to your room, but I did want to mention that Viva Las Vegas
is open for lunch and dinner. We’ve got room service available here in the hotel.
Tony will show you the gym and the pool on the way.”

Randa glanced behind her at the brilliant white sign that marked Viva Las Vegas. She
could hear faint strains of rocking guitars and pianos and knew she could count on
Southern-fried goodness there. Her mouth watered at the thought.

When she turned back to Tony, she wasn’t sure he was going to do any of things Laura
was signing him up for. He was statue-still and just as warm. Then he slowly turned
his head and looked at Laura for a long, drawn-out, uncomfortable minute. Laura seemed
unimpressed. “Don’t forget to help the lady with her bags now.” Randa held her breath
and let it out quietly when Laura fluttered her eyelashes at Tony.

One corner of his mouth curled up before he took quick, efficient steps around to
the front of the desk. Determined to show Tony that she wasn’t any happier to have
his help than he was to give it, Randa hurried over to yank the straps of both smaller
bags over one shoulder. She teetered again under the extra weight but steadied herself
with a hand on her rolling bag. Tony called Misty with a quick whistle before he bent
over to pick up Randa’s remaining bag. Then he tilted his head and Randa thought she
saw his lips twitch. She was disappointed it didn’t turn into a real smile. “Please
let me carry your bags.”

She held up a hand. “Oh, no, I have them. You should have seen me traipsing through
the airport. I’ve got a good handle on how to manage lug—”

Tony slid his hand under the straps on her shoulder and smoothly pulled them over
his own. Randa felt the path of that hand like a burn and froze for a second or two
before she forced herself to breathe. She wondered what his touch on bare skin might
accomplish.

“Follow me.” Tony clenched his hand and then shook it like he’d felt a tingle too.
Instead of hurt, this time Randa felt the flutter of satisfaction. Maybe it was only
a tiny reaction, but she got the feeling that even that was more than Tony was used
to.

Randa watched him cross the lobby and then glanced from him to Misty. The dog looked
at Tony and then back at her before seeming to shrug her shoulders.

“Come, Misty.” His voice was rough, probably from lack of use, but deep. In a way
it matched his face, which was too stark and serious to be really handsome, but he
could speak volumes with his eyes. She had a feeling Tony might be one of those deep
thinkers: still waters that pondered big questions. Randa ignored the voice in her
head that said she should only be interested in a man with a little more hair, a little
less ink, and an entirely different wardrobe. Her body didn’t seem to care about those
things. She felt his glance like a touch, and the nervous flutter in her stomach and
damp palms said all she really needed to know now was what he looked like out of that
tacky shirt.

Didn’t matter. She wasn’t here for men, her type or otherwise. She was here to get
a little peace and some distance from the men already in her life—the ones she couldn’t
dump or discourage because they were related. Also, they paid the bills. And when
the credit card bill for this latest salon visit came in, her father better pay it.
As long as she followed orders, he wrote checks.

Randa did her best to keep up with Tony but her four-inch heels weren’t made for speed.
They were made for sex. She recognized the flaw in her plan almost immediately. Nothing
she’d brought was for comfort, but she lived most of her life selling the right look.

“Hey, Tony, could you slow down just a bit? I think Misty’s breathing hard.” Randa
shot an apologetic look down at the dog. Misty might seem to be laboring under the
weight of all her skin but she was having no trouble keeping up.

Tony stopped in front of a door, swiped the key card, and opened it. She sort of expected
him to let the door slam in her face, but he held it open, waited for her to enter
with Misty on her heels, and then shut it carefully behind her. She did her best not
to stare obviously at the bed that seemed to take up most of what was probably a decent-sized
hotel room but felt like a closet. With a nice comfy bed inside. She wasn’t sure there
was enough room for two people, a dog,
and
oxygen. Tony walked to the closet and opened the suitcase rack before setting her
rolling case on it. Then he put the other bags he was carrying on the floor next to
it.

Unsure what to say in response to his helpfulness, Randa glanced around what was a
fairly standard hotel room. Except for the life-size photos of Elvis in different
poses. “Wow. Great photos.” She kicked out of her heels and wiggled her toes in the
gold carpet. “Are all the rooms this nice?”

Tony turned to flip on the light in the bathroom. “This is just the standard room.
All the first-floor rooms are like this, but the second and third floors and luxury
suites have other themes.”

She inched around him to peek into the bathroom. It was black. Black tile, black toilet,
brilliant silver mirror with bright white lights… it was a lot to absorb. “And
the bathrooms too?”

Somehow his face softened. She didn’t get a full smile but she got the idea that he
was amused at her amazement. Then he nodded. He carefully stepped around her, obviously
doing his best to make sure he didn’t brush up against her. Randa was glad he was
cautious. Really. She told herself she was better off not knowing if the zing of his
touch was more than a fluke. Direct contact with his chest would be impossible to
ignore. Or forget.

He was headed to the door at his previous quick pace when she said, “Um, what about
the gym and the… what else were you supposed to show me?”

His shoulders slumped a bit and he picked up her key card. “Follow me.”

Randa looked long and hard at her Laboutins passed out in a drunken sprawl on the
carpet. She stepped over them with bare feet and followed Misty out into the hall.
She could hear the whisper of her jeans, which were now too long on the carpet. And
nothing else. Tony didn’t say anything. And she had no idea how to get the conversation
started.

Near the end of the hall, Tony stopped and pointed. “Gym. Closes at ten, opens at
six. If you need help, call the front desk.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. Randa nodded. And the three of them resumed the tour. It was
kind of nice communicating on a nonverbal level like that. Maybe Tony was on to something.

She tried not to think about all the ways they might communicate without saying a
thing.

The hall ended with a glass door labeled
Pool
. And Tony opened the door to let Misty out. “If you come out, you’ll need a key card
to get back in. Otherwise, you’ll have a long walk back to the lobby front door.”
He handed her the room key and they were both careful to avoid another brush of skin.