Jackie Braun - Weekend in Vegas! - Saving Cinderella!

“I applaud your dedication,” he said, “but wandering the streets alone with your head buried in a map? I don’t think so.”

Her chin lifted slightly. “I’m fully capable of taking care of myself. I know self-defense, and I have hairspray, a lighter and sharp keys in my purse.”

“And if you’re distracted, you’ll never even get to them. You’re not doing this.”

Ah, the pretty sky eyes could flash angry sparks. Wyatt knew he shouldn’t allow himself to be intrigued by her mercurial spirit, but what man wouldn’t be? The woman was like an erratic fire, burning low and warm one minute, then leaping to an eager flame when something entranced or challenged her.

“Let me rephrase that in a less condescending way,” he said. “You’re off the clock now, and that means you’re not answerable to me, but if my presence won’t be unwelcome, I’ll show you Las Vegas up close.”

Alex hesitated. Then she raised one brow. “Do you really expect me to tell my boss that his presence would be unwelcome?”

He fought the urge to smile…and then he lost the battle. “Actually, yes, I do. As I mentioned, you’re on Alexandra time now. You call the shots.”

She studied him. “You don’t have to be my bodyguard.”

Bad choice of words. It made him far too aware of how attracted he was to her curves and her pretty long legs . None of that changed the fact that sending Alex out with nothing but a map, a smile, innocent blue eyes and a can of hairspray buried in her purse would be an invitation to men with the wrong things on their minds. Men like him…except he was not going to touch her. And that’s an order, McKendrick .

“If I’m asking you to point out the sights of my city, then it’s only right that I should show you that city.”

She opened her mouth, no doubt to give him another out.

“Alexandra,” he said, “let’s go.”

“Is that an order from my boss?”

He frowned. “That’s a request from an impatient…”

Man , he’d been going to say. “Tour guide,” he finished a bit lamely. He could not begin to think of them as man and woman.

“Well, then,” she said with a wide smile. “Lead on, tour guide. And make it good.”

Wyatt wanted to groan. He glared down at her fiercely.

Immediately she looked contrite. “Too much? Out of line?”

He slowly shook his head. “It’s your night.”

She nodded. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

He couldn’t help himself. He arched an eyebrow.

A pretty trace of rose suffused her cheekbones. “I meant that since I’ll be more comfortable in my job tomorrow, it will pay off with the customers.”

“You’ve been…uncomfortable?”

“Just a little—and only because I’m still getting my bearings and learning both the city and the hotel. I know you said that you’d handle any difficulties, but I need to handle things myself, you know?”

A loner like him? He understood the drive to be self-sufficient all too well.

“All right. We’ll take care of that.”

She smiled, and they left the building. He had his car brought around. “We’ll walk part of the way later,” he promised, handing her inside.

For several minutes they rode in silence.

“This awards situation,” Alex suddenly said. “Now that I’ve been on the job a couple of days I’m curious. You played it down the other day, but obviously McKendrick’s means a great deal to you. Do you really not care if you win or not?”

Her question caught him off guard. He thought back to all the times when he’d been told that he was less than nothing and that he would never be worth anything.

“I want to win,” he admitted.

“A lot?”

He didn’t want to think how much he needed to win. Thinking about it made him think of times he didn’t want to remember.

“Wyatt?”

“A lot. Too much. It’s just a meaningless award.” But it was more than that to him.

“Okay. We’ll win,” she said.

“You say that as if it’s that simple.”

“Maybe it is, if we treat it as if it is. I’m a big believer in affirmations, at least where the obstacles aren’t impossible to overcome.” For a second, a tiny shadow seemed to turn those sky eyes darker. Or maybe he’d been mistaken. Her smile held.

He gave her an incredulous look. “Were you always this…optimistic?”

“You meant to say naive, didn’t you?”

Wyatt studied her. “I meant to say that I appreciate your enthusiasm for the task.” The sparkling smile she gave him warmed him more than was safe.

“All right, enough about awards. I’m going to give you a whirlwind tour. Las Vegas in a night,” he said, trying to turn his thoughts from Alex.

He began with a quick tour of some of the major hotels that would have left experienced speed-daters short of breath. Walking her around the grounds of each hotel, he pointed out the things that would appeal to visitors. They visited the Eiffel Tower, the waterfalls at the Mirage. Alex gazed up at the black glass pyramid at the Luxor.

“I feel like a tourist,” she said, taking a picture.

“You are a tourist.” He tried not to smile, but lost the battle when she turned mock-indignant eyes on him.

“Not for long. With this great tour I can feel myself turning into Super Concierge already.”

And when he took her to see the canals and gondolas and strolling performers at the Venetian, she touched his sleeve. “It’s wonderful,” she said.

Her eyes shone, and Wyatt found himself wanting to find ways to bring her smile out in full force, which would be…amazing…exciting…too much, he reminded himself. Back off, McKendrick , he ordered. Getting too close to Alex wouldn’t be good for either of them.

“The vintage cars here belonged to celebrities and historic figures, heads of state,” he said, pointing out the auto collection at the Imperial Palace, his voice droning on as if he wasn’t totally aware of the woman at his side in a way that was perfectly…physical.

“It’s a museum,” she said.

He could tell by the way she automatically looked toward her little pink purse that she wanted her notepad, but then she shook her head and gave all her attention to the cars.

“Of sorts,” he agreed. “But the cars are actually for sale to those who have enough money, and people do pull out their millions and buy them every day.”

She laughed. “I’ll start saving my millions tomorrow. Just as soon as I have my shop paid for.”

Wyatt was glad she’d said that. It was good to be reminded how temporary she was.

“Last hotel,” he said, leading the way. “One of the finest in the world.”

“It’s beautiful,” she agreed, as they paused before the fountains of the Bellagio. “But you said it was one of the finest, and I know that’s a title you covet for McKendrick’s…So I guess I don’t understand tonight’s tour. You have a totally gorgeous and amazing hotel. Why show me the ones I won’t be sending people to?”

He held out his hands, as if to concede her point. “But you might send them here for some things—a restaurant, a view, a good photo op. It may not make sense to promote a competitor’s wares, but it’s all about giving the customer the perfect experience. No one hotel does it all. If a customer is looking for something we don’t have, I’ll provide it by sending them elsewhere during their stay with us. In the end it pays off. They tend to remember that we were willing to bend over backward, including letting them escape our clutches for a few hours, to ensure their satisfaction, and they return to us. It works. Besides, placing too many restrictions on people tends to backfire.”