Jackie Braun - Weekend in Vegas!

“I do, but not here.”

“Yet you terrorized a child, one of my guests.”

“I’m one of your guests.”

Wyatt’s eyes were green ice. “Not anymore. Any money you’ve spent here will be refunded, but you’re not welcome at McKendrick’s.”

“I have a reservation.”

“And I have a hotel. My hotel trumps your reservation. Get out.” He gave one quick look to the side, and instantly two security guards stepped out of a nearby foyer.

The man muttered a low, foul epithet, but he began to gather up his soggy papers as the guards approached. Wyatt asked another employee to take down the man’s information. Then he turned to Alex, the woman and the little boy.

The woman looked as if life had been beating her up lately. “I—Thank you,” she said to Alex and Wyatt. “Oh…here, I’ll take her.” The woman’s littlest moppet—maybe three years old at best—had crawled onto Alex’s lap, her thumb in her mouth.

“It’s all right. She’s fine,” Alex said, stroking the child’s silken curls. “She’s adorable. And so is Denny.”

Denny hung his head.

“He’s clumsy now and then,” his mother said, still a bit teary, “but he’s a good boy.”

“And he’s very brave,” Wyatt said, squatting down in front of the child. “Accidents happen, son,” he said. “When I was your age, they happened to me all the time.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “For real?”

The desperation in his voice made Alex remember what it was like to be very young and do something humiliating in public. Children hadn’t yet learned how to shrug that kind of thing off. The shame could resurface in thoughts years later.

“Oh, yeah,” Wyatt said. “I once spilled red fruit punch on my uncle’s white suit. It was his favorite, and I ruined it.”

“What happened?” the boy whispered.

Wyatt hesitated. “I grew up. You will, too. You should be careful, but the man was wrong to talk to you like that. All of us make mistakes. He’ll survive.”

He lightly tapped the boy’s nose, then turned to the mother, found out that she was visiting her sister at the hotel, and made arrangements for a meal and a babysitter.

After the woman and her children had gone upstairs, Alex turned to Wyatt. She wanted to thank him for stepping into a situation that had been escalating. But Wyatt was already almost out of the vicinity. As he started to leave the lobby, he turned and looked at her, and there was a scowl on his face.

Maybe he didn’t like having to get involved in the personal lives of his guests, maybe he was worried that this event would cost McKendrick’s the award or…maybe he was worried that she was still remembering last night’s kiss and would expect things of him now.

“Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen,” she whispered, but of course he didn’t hear her. He was already gone, and as usual he was alone.

The way he liked it, she reminded herself, remembering what Randy had told her.

A WEEK had passed, and Alex had grown into her job so quickly that she was starting to feel as if she really belonged at McKendrick’s—something that was alarming, because she didn’t belong. McKendrick’s was too closely tied to Wyatt, a man who made her remember how it felt to be in his arms every time she saw him.

Just like a lot of other women had , she reminded herself. And a woman with her record certainly knew better than to travel that route. She wanted to help Wyatt’s hotel win. Because it was a wonderful place, because Wyatt wanted to win and because…well, because she just wanted to. But her involvement had to stop at the hotel.

So she did her best to focus on McKendrick’s, on the ballroom that was being renovated, on the reporters who had heard about the hotel’s finalist status and had come to take pictures twice already. The thing not to concentrate on was the fact that Wyatt hadn’t come near her since the day after their kiss. He’d clearly concluded her training and was on to other things. So she shouldn’t be thinking of the man at all, except…

She could still see Wyatt with that little boy. The loner who had told her that he wasn’t meant for marriage and children, who was clearly uncomfortable dealing with emotional people, had set aside his personal preferences to bond with and comfort a wounded child. If she thought about how she had felt watching Wyatt in that moment…Alex’s heart tipped crazily. Visions of all the leaps she’d made into doomed love slammed into her soul.

Don’t remember how you felt. Never let down your guard on your heart , she ordered herself. Just work .

She did. She drove herself. And when Wyatt sent around a memo that all employees were to take regular breaks and lunches, she took a five-minute break and a ten-minute lunch. A part of her knew that taking this job had been a huge mistake, but she had agreed to it. Now all she could think was that if she kept working the days would pass. Belinda would return, all this would end, and the worst that would have hap-pened would be that Alex had melted in Wyatt’s arms once. Surely she could survive that one mistake?

As long as she didn’t stop to think, she’d be fine. Because thinking led to recalling the sound of Wyatt’s voice. It led to reliving the sensation of Wyatt’s mouth on hers.

The kiss had been a mistake, as he had said, but it had felt too wonderful—and had made her want more.

“Grr,” she told herself.

At Randy’s questioning look, she automatically held up a piece of paper. “You wouldn’t believe some of the suggestions for the new name of the ballroom.”

“I could help you with that.”

She blinked. “Thank you. You’re a good guy, Randy.”

He blushed. Actually blushed. “Just doing my job.”

“Well, you do a great job. I may need help if we get too many more of these. For now I’ll let them sit. I have to map out a tour for the Airinson group. They’ll be here at two.” She glanced at the list she was making.

At that moment Randy’s phone rang. He picked it up. “Yes. No. She took a lunch break. How long? Well…”

He mumbled a few more things Alex didn’t catch, and when he hung up he gave Alex one brief, evasive look, then turned away.

Five minutes later Wyatt strode across the lobby with Jenna, who worked in the office, skip-stepping to keep up.

“Come on,” Wyatt said to Alex. “Time to get your basic nourishment. I don’t want you keeling over at your desk.”

“I had lunch.”

“I heard about your ten-minute lunch. And that you were interrupted by a phone call. Let’s go.”

He looked down at the overflowing contest basket and at the stacks of paper on her desk. The collection of cute little personal items and photos she kept there was almost obscured.

“Enforced downtime just arrived,” he told her. “Tell Jenna what’s a priority. Randy will back her up if she needs help.”

Since Randy was obviously the one who had ratted her out, Alex looked up at him. “You have a big mouth,” she told him.

“Don’t blame Randy. You can’t skip meals or work non-stop,” Wyatt told her, “and Randy had his orders.”