High Stakes (3 page)

“Your boyfriend must be crazy to let you
travel to Sin City all by your lonesome.” His voice was low and raspy, filled
with sexual innuendo and promise.

“I, uh…”
Spit it out, damn it.
“Don’t
have a boyfriend.”

He licked his full lips as his intense eyes
outlined her face. “Husband, fiancé… lover?” His voice deepened even more as he
uttered the last word, sending thrill bumps skittering across her bare skin.

“No, no, and…” She drew a shallow gulp of
air into her lungs, but the word still sounded breathless. “No.”

“Damn, I really need to fly commercial more
often. I had no idea what I was missing out on.” He smiled again as he extended
his hand. “Liam.”

She hadn’t expected his hands to be
calloused or rough, and they weren’t. He was obviously accustomed to sitting
behind a desk, and that suited her just fine. She loved elegant, refined men,
and he more than filled the bill. “Alisa.”

He brought her hand to his lips and seemed
in no hurry to tear his mouth away as his eyes remained fixed on hers. He
turned her hand over and she couldn’t chase away the image of his tongue
flitting across her pulse point.

“Tell me about yourself, Alisa.” He finally
released her hand as he shifted slightly in his seat to face her.

“Um, well, I’m from Nashville.”

He smiled. “I suspected as much.”

Since they were flying out of Nashville, it
was a safe assumption. “How about you? Where are you from?”

“Home base is San Francisco, but I travel a
lot for business.”

She should be relieved. San Francisco was a
safe distance from Nashville, definitely too far for a casual fling. “What do
you do?”

He smirked, as though her inquiry amused
him. “I’m in the hospitality industry.”

“That’s nice.” She sensed he was a private
person, guarded even, so she didn’t want to delve too deep, but she couldn’t
resist the urge to repeat the question he’d asked earlier. “Since you asked me,
it only seems fair. Wife, fiancée… lover?”

He chuckled as he plucked an invisible
speck of lint from his tailored dress pants. “No, no, and no.”

“Hard to believe,” she muttered, treating
herself to the same brazen onceover he’d given her.

He quirked a dark eyebrow while giving her
a lopsided grin. “I am married…” He watched her expression carefully. “To my
career. Not much room in my life for anything else, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I see.” That was fair warning if ever
she’d heard it. Not that she needed to be put on notice. They lived in
different states, and she was far too busy with her new business venture to
even consider acting on the undeniable attraction between them, no matter how
tempting indulging in one night of careless fun might be. But according to her
father’s terms, anything that could land her in the tabloids was off-limits. Of
course, they wouldn’t have to worry about that if they were tucked away in a
private hotel suite. She cursed her errant thoughts. She’d never engaged in a
meaningless one-night stand, and this wasn’t the time to start, not when her
entire future was still up for grabs.

Her father made it clear: one slip up and
he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the plug on her financing. He called it tough
love. She called him a control freak, and they agreed to disagree.

“So, what do you do, Alisa?” The way he
said her name felt like a caress drifting across her skin, and she could
imagine her name on his lips while he was lost in an intimate moment.

She crossed her legs as she cursed her
overactive imagination. What was it about this man that made her think about
big beds, subtle strokes, and long, lazy mornings without a care in the world?
It was painfully obvious as she watched his index finger skim his lips. He was
six plus feet, two hundred plus pounds of temptation no woman in her right mind
could resist.

“I’m in fashion.” She cleared her throat as
she closed her magazine and placed it in the seat pocket in front of her.
“Actually, I’m opening my first boutique next week. It’s called Alisa’s.”

“Of course it is.” He followed suit,
tucking his magazine back inside his briefcase. “What made you decide to get
into the business?”

“I modeled for several years, and I’ve
always loved fashion.”

He chuckled. “A model? Why am I not
surprised?”

Alisa bristled at the way he said the word
model.
She was used to being labeled because of her chosen profession. The fact that
she’d chosen to make her living in front of a camera earned her a reputation as
shallow, self-indulgent, and spoiled. “In case you’re wondering, I kept my
clothes on.”

“I never had any doubt. You’re obviously a
classy lady.”

The compliment was a mild balm to her
wounded ego, but she wasn’t willing to let him off the hook that easily. “Why
do you have such a low opinion of models?”

He laughed. “Let’s just say I’ve dated my
fair share, and they all seem to fit into a certain mold.”

She’d spent enough time around models to
know he was right. They definitely shared common characteristics. Maybe that’s
why she wasn’t strong enough to go the distance. “Sounds like you’re
stereotyping.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I call it like I
see it. I won’t apologize for having an opinion, even if you don’t happen to
share it.”

Of all the arrogant, egotistical men she’d
met in her life, this man claimed the prize. “Excuse me, I’d like to use the
restroom, if you don’t mind.” When she came back, she intended to tune in to
the movie, so she could tune him out.

Liam Bryson cursed his big mouth. Speaking
his mind was part of who he was, and he knew people judged him because of it.
They’d called him opinionated, arrogant, insufferable, stubborn—the list went
on, but those qualities helped him build one of the most exclusive boutique
hotel chains in the world, so he refused to apologize for the attributes that
made him successful.

But when he realized his unwarranted
opinion had offended Alisa, he immediately wished he could retract his words.
He’d lumped her in with all of the other women he’d dated, and it was obvious
to him in the few moments they spent together that she was nothing like them.
She was special. He didn’t know how he knew, and he didn’t question it. He
trusted his instincts, and he knew he had to find a way to get back into her
good graces, because even if he never saw her again after their plane touched
down, he didn’t want her to think poorly of him.

He hadn’t considered another person’s
opinion of him in years, and he’d never, ever gone out of his way to impress a
lady. He’d never had to, not when the prospect of accessing his bank account
seemed to be the only enticement they needed.

He stood up to let Alisa slide into her
window seat and impulse prompted him to settle his hands on her waist and pull
her flush against his chest as he whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry.”

He heard her slight gasp the minute she
felt the evidence of his arousal, but he couldn’t hide his attraction to her, and
he didn’t want to. He wanted her to know, without a doubt, what she was doing
to him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart.”

They were getting too close, too intimate.
They were still strangers, yet to the casual observer, they must look like
lovers intent on making up after a harmless spat.

Her hands closed over his as she slid his
hands off her hips. “Excuse me.”

He watched her slide a set of pink earbuds
into her ears as she glanced at the overhead screen. If she thought he would be
dismissed that easily, she obviously didn’t realize who she was dealing with.
He tugged on the cord and smiled when she scowled at him.

“Leave me alone. I want to watch the
movie.”

He glanced at the screen. “I’ve seen this
one. You want me to tell you how it ends?”

“No, I want you to go back to your magazine
and pretend you never met me.”

“Impossible,” he whispered. He risked a
glimpse of her mouth and immediately wished he hadn’t. She’d obviously touched
up her lipstick and brushed out her long blond waves while in the restroom. Her
mouth was pink and full, glossy and moist. Whether she realized it or not, she
was begging to be kissed, and he was barely able to walk the fine line of
propriety. “Let me make it up to you by buying you dinner tonight.”

“Are you serious? I’m not having dinner
with you tonight or any other night.”

“Why not? Are you afraid?”

She crossed her arms and looked at the
billowy clouds floating past their window. “Afraid of what?”

“This thing between us.” He crossed one leg
over the other and leaned in closer. “It’s intense. You can’t deny that. Come
on, Alisa. You’re single; I’m single. We’re both staying in Vegas. Are you
telling me you wouldn’t rather spend the evening with me than holed up in your
hotel room, munching on expensive peanuts and watching pay-per-view movies
until you fall asleep?”

Her lips twisted into a scornful smile.
“You’re assuming I’m going to be alone. Did I say that was my intent?”

He felt it rip through him with the
ferocity of a lightning bolt, fast, furious, and totally unexpected.
Jealousy.
Never in his forty-four years had he ever been jealous when one of his lovers
threatened to find someone else because he was spending too much time at the
office. How could the thought of this relative stranger spending the night in
another man’s arms make him feel so angry, so possessive? “I thought you said
you didn’t have a lover at the moment? Are you meeting someone in Vegas?”

“None of your business.”

His hands curled into fists. “Fine, suit
yourself.” He pulled his iPod out of his briefcase, determined to listen to classical
music until it inevitably lulled him to sleep.

It took every ounce of Alisa’s willpower to
ignore him for the remainder of their flight. She knew her bad temper had
little to do with his words and everything to do with the way he made her feel.
She wanted to have dinner with him, to see where it might lead, but the promise
she made to her father precluded that as an option. Even though she was in Las
Vegas, not Nashville, where her family was considered country music royalty,
she couldn’t be certain someone with a camera wouldn’t snap a picture that
would end up all over the Internet by morning.

Her father didn’t expect her to be a social
recluse, but dinner with a man twenty years her senior wouldn’t go over well
with Trey, no matter how much she wanted to pretend it would be a nonissue
because he would never find out. Who was she kidding? Daddy Dearest would go
ballistic if she started dating a man nearly twice her age, and if there was
even the slightest chance of a leak, she couldn’t risk it. Everything rode on
this new business, and indulging in a fantasy with a sexy stranger simply
wasn’t worth the risk.

When he would have stepped out into the aisle
and walked out of her life, Alisa gave in to the urge to reach for his arm. She
smiled. “You’re forgiven, and I’m sorry I overreacted.”

His warm smile finally reached his eyes,
triggering finely etched lines she hadn’t noticed before. They should serve as
a reminder that he was too old for her, but instead they made him even more
appealing. “Apology accepted.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him, and she
smiled, graciously accepting his invitation.

Alisa felt the heat of his gaze boring into
her backside and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as
she politely thanked the cabin crew and made her way down the ramp.

He fell into step beside her. “Have you
given any more thought to that dinner invitation? The offer still stands… if
you’re interested.”

She was interested, too interested, and
therein lay her problem. “Um, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“No pressure.” He raised his hands. “Just a
friendly dinner. I’m not expecting anything beyond that.”

The problem wasn’t his expectation, but
hers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this attracted to a man,
if ever, and she didn’t trust herself to maintain a platonic relationship if he
was willing to offer more. “Where are you staying?”

He grinned. “Well away from the strip. It’s
a nice little boutique hotel, but they have a decent casino, if you like
gambling.”

She laughed. “I like it a little too much. That’s
the problem. I never have the restraint to quit while I’m ahead.”

“I know the feeling.”

She tried to reach for her small Vuitton
suitcase when it finally made its way around, but he beat her to it. “Thanks.
Well, I’m staying at the Bellagio, so I doubt our paths will cross again.”

“You like being in the midst of the action,
huh?”

In fact, she couldn’t imagine visiting the popular
casino alone. The scenario he’d described earlier was probably more accurate…
room service and falling asleep in front of the TV. “No, it’s just that I
usually stay there when I visit with friends, so I figured, why not, since I’m
only here one night.”