Las Vegas: Scandals: Prince Charming for 1 Night. Nina Bruhns
“Are you insane? What are you waiting for?”
Vera sighed dreamily. “Nothing, anymore. I decided to seduce him tonight.”
“Good plan,” Tawni said in exasperation. “Jeez, girl, the man is worth megabucks. You’ve got to hurry up and soak him for all he’s worth!”
She shook her head, feeling a loopy smile spread on her face. “No. I couldn’t. It’s not like that. He likes me. Respects me.”
Tawni slapped her hands to the sides of her face. “Are you out of your mind? Respects you? Look at yourself in the mirror, Vera May Mancuso. Does that look like the sort of woman a man has any kind of honorable thoughts about? Mark my words, he’s after something you’ve got, but it ain’t R-E-S-P-E-C-T.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I’ve decided to give it to him anyway.”
Something in her voice must have given her away. Tawni gasped. “Oh, sweet heaven. You’re in love with the man! My God, girl, you just met him yesterday!”
“I know. Totally insane, isn’t it? I took one look at him, and it was like…like I’d been zapped by a magic wand or something. Bells rang. Stars exploded.” Or maybe that part was just the stage lights reflecting off the incredible ring she’d been wearing. The Tears of the Quetzal. She’d been blinded by its hypnotic brilliance. No wonder some lunatic had become obsessed by it.
Tawni was still staring at her incredulously.
Vera held up a hand. “I know. I’m certifiable. Believe me, I wasn’t going to touch him—” much “—but oh, God, Tawni, I want him. I want to feel what it’s like to be with him. Just once. Don’t worry, I’m not fool enough to think it’ll last.”
Sympathy filled Tawni’s gaze. “Oh, sweetie, you do have it bad. Come here, girl.” She stretched out her arms, and Vera went into them, grateful for a hug, grateful for a friend who knew exactly what she was going through. No matter how jaded they pretended to be, their hearts still broke like everyone else’s.
“You’re right, sweetie,” Tawni murmured. “Don’t you worry about the future. You go for it. Get all the loving you can out of him. Just hang on to that precious heart of yours. Don’t you give that to any man, you hear?”
Vera nodded. “I won’t.”
But it was too late, and they both knew it.
Still, she told herself, at least she’d have some amazing memories.
She pulled back from Tawni’s hug, filling with a jittery kind of excitement. She really was going to go for it.
Jerry poked his head in the door just then. “Miss LaRue?”
She looked up, surprised. She wasn’t on again for another two hours. “Yeah, Jerry?”
“Lecherous Lou wants to see you. Upstairs. Room seven.”
Now what? Lou knew she was absolutely adamant—Okay, wait. Maybe…“Do you know if there’s anyone with him?” she asked Jerry.
“That rich dude’s been panting after your bod.”
Excellent. “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” Jerry left. She met Tawni’s I-told-you-so gaze in the mirror. “Don’t say a word. Not a blessed word.”
“Did I say anything? Here, look, this is me not saying a single damn thing.” Tawni made a zipping motion over her lips as Vera gathered her skirts and headed out the door. “You go get ‘im, girl,” she called after her. “Make the boy wish he’d never been born with that thing between his legs.”
That was the whole idea. For now. But later, after they went home, she’d make him glad again. Oh, so very, very glad.
And her, too.
“There you are, my dear,” Lecherous Lou said when she swept into the VIP room.
Conner was standing next to him, looking too handsome for his own good. Damn, the man was fine, as Tawni would say. Broad shoulders; square jaw; long, hard, muscular legs; strong hands. And those eyes. She’d never known eyes so bone-quiveringly sexy as those hot-as-the-desert hazel ones gazing at her from under his perfectly shaped masculine brows. “Vera,” he said in greeting.
“Hello, Mr. Rothchild,” she said with demure formality. “Lou. What can I do for you gentlemen?”
“I think you know what Mr. Rothchild would like, Vera,” Lou said. Subtlety had never been his strong suit.
She allowed herself a coy smile at her would-be lover. “I’m pretty sure that would be illegal. Wouldn’t want to get any of us into trouble with the law, would we?”
Those perfect brows flicked. She’d caught him by surprise. He’d been expecting her to flatly refuse, as she had yesterday.
“Of course not!” Lou blustered. “Nothing illegal. Just a standard lap dance, that’s all. The VS1 Special.”
Which was code for total nudity.
She swallowed.
She’d avoided this for so long that the words almost stuck in her throat. “All right,” she said.
Omigod, what was she doing?
What they both wanted. That’s what.
Lou almost fell over. He’d been expecting a total refusal, too, and to have to threaten her with her job. “Get lost,” she told him. “Before I change my mind.”
He was out the soundproof door, and the gauzy curtains were drawn closed faster than she could blink.
“Surprised?” she asked Conner when they were alone.
The lingering shock and the slight parting of his lips belied his causal stance. “I could have sworn you don’t do lap dances.”
“This isn’t a lap dance.”
“Strange. I’m pretty sure that’s what you just agreed to.”
She smiled. And took a step toward him. “Then, it’ll be our little secret—” and another step “—what we really do.”
That’s when he started to get nervous. And in spite of himself, excited. She could see his body reacting to the fantasies in his mind. The ones she’d planted there. “Vera? What’s going on?”
“I hope you’re prepared, Mr. Rothchild,” she said, lowering her voice to a throaty purr, and with one finger pushed him backward onto the divan. “To be seduced.”
Chapter 11
Vera seduced him slowly, minute by minute, inch by inch, the way she’d done onstage earlier. If Conner had any notion of resisting her, the man could just forget it.
She was an expert at very few things, but this was one of them. She knew how to make a man want her.
Not that he needed any help in that department. He’d made no secret of his desire to sleep with her. He hadn’t pressed her on it, but only because she’d told him no. The man was a true gentleman, just as he’d said.
And now he would get his reward.
Well. Sort of. She knew he’d do his damnedest to follow club rules and not touch her. It would be pure torture on him. Heck, for both of them. But it would make the coming night all the sweeter, once they got back to his place.
She adjusted the music to a low, bluesy song she loved, and took her place in the middle of the small room. He sat sprawled on the divan, looking like a tiger who couldn’t quite believe a kitten had wandered into his cage.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
Making her fall for him all the more.
“I