Katherine Garbera - Their Million-Dollar Night

Alone by his own design, granted. But still alone. No mistress—he’d learned the hard way that even couching an affair in business terms didn’t mean a clean break when things were over.

Harron had made several comments about the fact that Max was lacking a wife, a family. But Max had his family. They were paid employees and a small core group of lifelong friends.

There was a knock on his door. He hoped it would be Roxy, but knew it wouldn’t be. Instead it was the bellman with a FedEx box containing paperwork from his office.

He took the papers with him to the minibar and poured himself a Scotch. Looking hard at his life made him realize that in his quest to make sure no one thought he was riding his father’s coattails, he’d created a vacuum. A place where no one existed except for himself.

Ah, hell, he was getting morose. He signed the papers, dropped them in the return envelope and then swallowed his drink in two long gulps.

He wanted Roxy.

He wanted to spend more time with the beautiful woman who could be charming until she remembered herself. Then she was awkward and shy. And he wanted to know why. He really did want to uncover her secrets, but he sensed she wouldn’t share them. Not yet.

He also couldn’t compromise her job. He made a quick call to Hayden and asked that Roxy’s job be changed, explaining very little to his friend, but then Hayden was a man known for being quick-witted. “I’ll be taking her out of the casino tomorrow for the day.”

“Don’t allow my business to get in the way of your personal plans,” Hayden said.

“You are the one who extolled her virtues.”

“That’s right. I did, but I didn’t count on your interest interfering with my business.”

“I won’t.”

Max hung up the phone then dialed the front desk and asked for Roxy, knowing that even though it was almost midnight she’d be available. Everyone was always available to him in Vegas. To be truthful, wherever he traveled he was seldom turned down. He waited while he was connected to her.

“Hello?”

Her voice was soft and sweet, husky with fatigue, and he knew that if he were a nicer man, he’d just hang up and let her get some sleep. But he wasn’t feeling particularly nice tonight.

“It’s Max.”

“Did you decide what time you wanted to start in the morning?” she asked, her tone warming a little.

Gambling was no longer the reason he was in Vegas. But he knew he’d have to keep that to himself a while longer. “No. I’m going back to the high-stakes room tonight. I need you there.”

She hesitated and he wondered if she’d tell him no. “Oh, sure, Max. Only, I went home so it’ll take me at least a half hour to get back to the casino.”

“Why aren’t you staying at the hotel?” he asked. He’d assumed she’d get a room while he was there. That was what his usual host, Jack, did.

“Hayden didn’t ask me to. Actually, it never occurred to me you’d need me in the middle of the night.”

If she only knew how much he needed her.

“Pack a bag when you come back,” he said.

“For what?”

“To stay here until I leave.”

“I’m not sure my job covers—”

He didn’t want to discuss the fact that her job description had changed. “I’ll cover it.”

“Max, are you okay?” she asked.

Her voice sounded sweet, but he heard the underlying pique. She didn’t like to take orders. And for the first time since he’d met her he had a glimpse into the fact that she was more than a pretty, smiling hostess. Her annoyance wasn’t unexpected because most people didn’t like to be told what to do. But Max had found the easiest way to get what he wanted was to do just that.

“Fine. I’ll see you in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

“It may take me longer than that.”

“Why?”

“I have to shower and then pack an overnight case.”

“What were you doing?” he asked. Jealousy pricked the back of his mind. Had she been with a man? He was her job.

And he was the one who was thinking this could be something more than gambler and hostess. He hoped he didn’t turn out like his father, desperately seeing a relationship where there wasn’t one.

He rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t personal, he reminded himself. But he knew that the reminder came too late. He felt something for Roxy whether he wanted to or not.

“Working out.”

“What about your injury?”

She hesitated and he knew that she wasn’t at peace with it yet. Was it recent?

“It’s fine.”

But something in her voice said it wasn’t. “You never said what type of injury it was.”

“I’m not going to, either. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in an hour, okay?”

“Why won’t you answer me?”

“Because it’s private and personal. Isn’t there something in your life you don’t talk about?”

There was a lot, but he had always had a knack for getting people to open up. It was one of the reasons he was so good at takeovers. He could find out exactly the qualm the other CEO had and reassure them that he’d take care of it.

“Max?”

“Yes, I have things I don’t discuss. But I’m asking about an injury, not asking you to bare your soul.”

“I wish that were true, but my injury changed who I am.”

He wished he was with her so he could read her expressive eyes instead of having to rely on the phone line to figure this out. Not being able to dance must be tied to her sense of self. He’d met dancers before. Knew that they’d usually spent their entire life practicing. Living at the dance studio and keeping their bodies in top shape.

“Tell me about it,” he invited.

She said nothing. The silence lengthened, but he knew she was still there. She was waiting him out, trying to see if he’d simply give up and hang up. But Max had made patience a priority when he was ten years old and had never forgotten it. His impatience at age ten had cost him time with his father. Something that had been rare in his childhood, and he’d never forgotten that had he waited an extra thirty minutes he could have gone on an extended weekend with his dad instead of spending time at the arcade with his boarding school pals. Nowadays he could wait for days—even weeks—for what he wanted.

“I’m not going to go away.”

“Yes, you will, Max. I can’t do this right now. I’m just your hostess. I’m not willing to be your vacation fling. That thing you did in Vegas that has to stay here because it’s a dirty little secret.”

He cursed under his breath. “You know nothing about the type of man I am if you think that I’d pursue a woman just to have a tawdry thrill to bandy about in the boardroom.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you.”

“Come to the casino with me tonight. Let me show you the man I am.”

She agreed and hung up the phone. Max left his suite and headed for the busy casino floor, hoping that by surrounding himself with people he could dull his need for Roxy.

It didn’t work.

Roxy had three dresses and four approved pant-suits that Hayden had sent to her to wear for this assignment. But they weren’t her style and she hated the feeling she got when she put them on—as if she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

She took the pants from one of the suits and paired them with her favorite silk halter top. She now had to wear flats instead of heels, and she hated that. Grabbing her overnight bag, she left her house without a backward glance.

She drove the same car she’d had since she’d made headliner. It was a sweet BMW Land Shark convertible. And for the first time in a really long time she didn’t have that sinking feeling in her stomach that stemmed from things lost. Instead she put the top down and let the cool summer air whip her hair around her head. She pumped up the music on the stereo, slipping in her favorite Dave Matthews CD when she couldn’t find a song she liked on the radio.