A Madaris Bride for Christmas. Brenda Jackson
night that expert kiss had invaded her sleep. She had dreamed they hadn’t stopped with the kiss, that he had followed her back to her hotel room, that he had undressed her, undressed himself and then pulled her down on the bed. She had awakened more than once from her own loud moans as she’d envisioned him taking her nipples into his mouth and sucking hard on them, envisioned his hand slipping between her legs.
Then, when he had replaced his hand with his mouth, detonating an explosion of passion through her, she had screamed out in her sleep.
Her dream had gone way too far. Really? An orgasm? She could only imagine what the people in the hotel room next to her thought.
She’d heard of women’s dreams feeling so real they climaxed, but she’d never experienced such a thing for herself. Heck, nothing of that magnitude had even happened to her in real life, definitely not with Nathaniel.
Even with all of her dreams, she had quickly dressed and packed after waking up. Since her hotel bill had been prepaid, she’d skipped the checkout desk and gone straight to the parking garage, where she got into her car and drove off.
Carly was glad that she didn’t have to go back to work until tomorrow night. And since she worked in the restaurant’s kitchen and was never seen by patrons, she didn’t have to worry about her path crossing with Lee’s. In fact, she was confident she would never see him again. She fought off the disappointment of that thought, knowing it was for the best. The man tempted her to do things she wouldn’t ordinarily do. That was the last thing she needed.
She wanted to concentrate on her new job and be the best pastry chef she could be. There were a lot of opportunities at the Grand MD and she figured hard work would bring her closer to her dream of one day owning her own café. Ever since she’d moved to town, she’d been eyeing a piece of land within fifteen minutes of where she lived, not far from the mall. She could definitely see a restaurant with her name on it sitting right on that spot. The price was more than she could afford with all the student loans she was still paying back. But within a year she would have saved enough for a down payment, and she was hoping the property would still be available.
Leaving the laundry room, she planned out the few chores she needed to finish before she went shopping. Her aunt and Heather had sent her gift cards with instructions to buy something nice for herself. She smiled at their thoughtfulness and brushed aside the hurt that her mother hadn’t bothered to call. She never did.
Carly had long ago accepted the fact that Gail Briggs Thrasher believed Carly to be a mistake she’d made at sixteen that she wanted to forget. With Aunt Ruthie’s help, Carly’s mother had not only finished high school but had gone off to college as well. Only thing was, Gail eventually decided she didn’t want to be a mother to her illegitimate child. Knowing she was never wanted had bothered Carly while growing up, but she had stopped letting it be the downer it once was.
Her aunt Ruthie was a very religious woman and she believed that one day Carly would get all the happiness that had ever been missing from her life. A part of Carly hoped her aunt was right.
A few hours later, Carly sat down to the computer at her desk and pulled up the online copy of the Miami Herald. She’d promised herself she’d forget about what she’d heard that night in the alley four months ago, but she hadn’t been able to stop checking periodically for any mention of what she thought had happened. So far, Carly hadn’t connected any reports of missing people to the events she’d heard. Heather was convinced Carly had dreamed the entire thing, and now a part of Carly wondered if perhaps Heather was right.
But she couldn’t eradicate the memory of that man’s deep, raspy voice. Even if she never saw the man she believed had pulled the trigger, she was convinced she would recognize his voice.
If she continued to check the internet for another month or so and nothing appeared in the online newspaper then maybe she could finally let it go.
* * *
Lee stepped out of his shower thinking that so far the day had gone just the way he’d planned. His five important guests had arrived and were checked into the guest suites on the seventieth floor, which had an exclusive elevator for privacy.
The sheikhs and their wives had flown into Texas, spending a few days at Jake’s Whispering Pines Ranch. The women had been left behind with Jake’s wife, Diamond, to fly to Los Angeles to shop. They would be joining their husbands in Vegas tomorrow. The three men had arrived this morning in Jake’s private plane. Kyle and his wife, Kimara, had been the first to arrive at eight that morning, and Mitch Farrell and his wife, Gina, had arrived within an hour or so of the Garwoods.
The Garwoods and Farrells had visited the hotel before, when they’d attended the Grand MD’s Vegas grand opening, but Lee could tell from the looks on their faces that they were still impressed with what they’d seen during this visit. Of course Jake had been to the hotel several times since they’d opened their doors, but it was the sheikhs’ first time at the Grand MD in Vegas. Although they had visited the hotel in Dubai, they had already commented several times on how beautiful the Vegas hotel was.
Both sheikhs had attended college in the United States and had been visitors to Vegas a number of times before, staying at several of the other hotels on the Strip. Lee had overheard Sheikh Yasir whisper to Jake just how magnificent he thought the Grand MD was. The design, different from the one in Dubai, was impressive.
So much so that Lee and Angelo owned private residences on the seventy-third floor of the hotel. Both were huge and provided all the comforts of home, including their own private pools and entertainment rooms for parties. Their balconies provided a panoramic view of the city and beyond.
Although Lee would always have a deep affinity for Houston and he still got homesick at times, he would be the first to admit that Las Vegas had grown on him. He loved the Strip and enjoyed mingling with the millions of people who visited the city every year with plenty of money to spend. His job was to make sure some of that spending cash came the way of the Grand MD.
He had entertainers lined up three years in advance, including stand-up comedians, musicians and magicians. All the shows were sold out until the middle of next year. Since the Grand MD was the new kid on the Strip and had something for everyone, the shows had helped the hotel receive record-breaking reservations.
Reservations from guests like the woman he’d met last night.
Not only had Carly been on his mind this morning but she had remained on his mind all last night...even while he slept. To think this much about a woman was unlike him. He didn’t have the reputation his cousins Blade and Clayton had acquired prior to getting married, but he had dated enough women to suit him. Beautiful women. Stunning women.
None had been as unforgettable as Carly.
Memories kept invading his mind. Their dance. Their kiss. Why had he been tempted to go down to the lobby and wait for her to check out today just to see her again? Doing so would have been a mistake and he’d talked himself out of it, but it hadn’t been easy. Why did the thought of their paths never crossing again bother him?
Slipping into a pair of sweats, Lee had just pulled a T-shirt over his head when the suite’s doorbell rang. He pushed a button to check the video camera and saw it was Angelo. He spoke into the speaker. “Enter your code and come on in.”
By the time Lee walked out of his bedroom Angelo was walking through the door.
He and DeAngelo Di Meglio had met years ago when a close Madaris friend, Colonel Ashton Sinclair, had introduced everyone to his cousin MacKenzie Standfield, an attorney living in Oklahoma. Mac, as she was often called, was partner in a law firm with two other women—Samari Di Meglio and Peyton Mahoney.
Mac had married Lee’s cousin Luke a few years back; Samari, who was Angelo’s sister, was married to Lee’s cousin Blade, and almost two years ago Angelo had married Peyton. Half American and half Italian, Angelo and Samari came from a family dynasty of attorneys in New York.
“Looks like everyone has settled in,” Angelo said, sitting down in a nearby chair. “That’s good. Tomorrow is