Hot on His Heels (What Happens in Vegas) (4 page)

Chapter Four

Jake swaggered down the hallway, fighting the urge to turn around to see if Sadie Quinn was still watching. He could feel her eyes on him until the moment the elevator doors swooshed shut. At that point, once he knew she couldn’t possibly be watching, he spun around and made his way back to the elevator lobby.

As much as he might really want that drink now, he needed to spend some time considering what had just happened.

Or what had almost happened, anyway. Pushing the up arrow, he waited for another elevator to arrive. Once inside, he pushed the button for the floor he wanted, then crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and leaned against the mirrored wall.

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t shut down the image of Sadie Quinn’s soft lips trembling just inches away from his.

Even as the elevator filled with people from other floors, Jake stayed still and silent, trying to come to terms with the odd combination of desire and anger rolling through him, holding it in tightly, as if it would burst out of his skin in raw flames if he didn’t keep it contained.

He really had almost kissed a woman he didn’t know—and not just any anonymous stranger, but Sadie Quinn. The woman he had been cyber-avoiding for almost a solid year in his guise as a female editor.

Pretty much the worst possible choice to make out with in an elevator.

Even in Vegas.

Worse, she had mistaken him for Ian—the one thing he had promised his brother he would never allow to happen.

And then, had he followed his plan and played it off coolly, claiming some coincidental resemblance to the politician?

Oh, hell no. I blurted out the truth. It’s a good thing she didn’t ask me who Jocelyn Dellarivier is. I might have told her that, too.

Shaking his head, he ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, ending with the heel of his palm pressed against his forehead.

What is wrong with me?

By the time the elevator made it up to the thirty-sixth floor, he was alone again and no closer to answers than he had been before.

When Kamille answered the knock at her door, she wore sweatpants and an Intertwined T-shirt, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Jake muttered.

Raising one eyebrow, Kamille turned sideways to allow him into the suite. “Do tell,” she said, her tone dry.

Jake collapsed onto the center of the sofa, both arms spread out along the back, fingers tapping against the upholstery. “It’s that professor. Sadie Quinn.”

“The one at Janie’s signing? What about her?” Kamille moved to the in-room bar and poured herself a drink, then stood over him swirling it around in the glass without taking a sip.

“I almost kissed her in the elevator.”

Kamille’s hand stilled, the liquid in the glass sloshing around another time or two before rocking to a stop. Tilting her head to the side, she raised her eyebrow. “Run that by me again?”

Unable to force himself to stay seated, Jake pushed up from the sofa and paced across the small room. As quickly as possible, he recited the elevator events to Kamille, starkly and without any emotional editorials.

Kamille’s long, red-tipped fingernails tapped against her glass. “You’re attracted to this woman?”

“No.” Jake shook his head and rubbed a knuckle across his eye. “Yes. I don’t know.” On his next pass through the room, he swiped Kamille’s drink from her hand and downed it in one gulp, wincing a little from the burn of the alcohol.

“Your main concern is that you told her you’re Ian’s brother?” She narrowed her eyes as she followed his progress back and forth. “So what?”

The question brought Jake’s pacing to a sputtering halt. “What do you mean, ‘so what?’”

His boss moved back to the bar and poured a second drink. “I mean, like I’ve said all along, you shouldn’t be required to live your life according to what your brother wants.” This time, she swallowed half the drink before she turned around to face Jake.

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t get it at all.” Kamille shrugged. “But you know that. We’ve had that part of this conversation before.” Sitting down on the sofa in Jake’s abandoned spot, she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, spinning the half-empty drink around in her hands. “But I’m going to tell you exactly what I’ve told you before. If you need to keep up the Jocelyn act, I’ll support you. I think you give your brother more power over your life than you should. And if you like this woman, you should go for it.”

Jake’s mouth twisted as he shook his head, and Kamille shrugged. “Okay. Your call.” She rose, a clear dismissal that Jake couldn’t ignore.

He had come to see Kamille hoping to gain clarity. And that was exactly what he had gotten. Because the one thing he knew for sure was that he had to keep his brother’s career safe, no matter what. People who weren’t twins didn’t get how they were half of the same whole. Ian and Jake might be completely different, but they would always look out for each other. Protecting Ian came as naturally to Jake as protecting himself.

I do wish I had kissed Sadie in the elevator, though.

…

“Hurry up.” Amelia plucked at the shoulder of Sadie’s shirt. “We need to get in there.”

“Why are you in such an all-fired rush?” Pulling away from her friend, Sadie smoothed her shirt back down, then reached into her shoulder bag for her gray sweater. It was always so cold in these hotels.

“Because Intertwined is about to announce the winner of their Win a Date with a Model contest.” Amelia was practically bouncing up and down on her toes, her grin manic.

“Oh, Amelia. Seriously? You entered that? It’s all a scam. You know most of those models are gay or married or otherwise unavailable to you.”

Her friend’s expression turned cagey. “Well. It could still be fun to go out on the town with some gorgeous guy. It would look great on my Facebook.”

Sadie shuddered. “Sounds like hell to me. Having to make small talk with someone like that for an entire evening?”

“Mmm. Someone tall and muscular who just oozes sex appeal.” Amelia rolled her eyes, even as she tugged Sadie toward the elevator. “Yeah. That would be just miserable.”

Sadie shook her head. “Too many chances to say—or worse, do—something really stupid.”

Like almost kiss Ian Blaine’s twin in an elevator
.

For an instant, she considered telling Amelia about her elevator encounter with the gorgeous Intertwined PA. But what was there to tell, really? The elevator got stuck, he leaned toward her, her heart stopped, then she got the elevator moving again.

Her heart might still need a jump-start, but no one needed to know that.

Nothing to tell.

It could have been worse. At least no one had been there to see how she had reacted to the man.

“Anyway, who cares if you say or do something stupid? You can leave that all behind in Vegas, right?” It took Sadie a moment to realize that Amelia was still talking about the prize date with a cover model.

“But it won’t be left behind. You know they’re going to have photographers all over the place.”

With a fake gasp, Amelia touched her fingers to her chest. “Oh, heavens no. Photographic evidence of time with a hottie? Blasted out to thousands and thousands of people? That would never do.” She pushed the down button and tapped her foot impatiently. “Good grief, Sadie, I think pictures are sort of the whole point.”

“Anyway, don’t they announce that at the end of the hour? I thought the program said it was some sort of game show.” Reaching into her bag again, Sadie rummaged for her conference program.

“It’s Bad Boy Bingo. It’s not just the date with the model, they also have tons of books and other prizes to give away. The sooner we get there, the better our seats will be.”

“You know, even if you win the date, you’ll probably have to sign some sort of stupid waiver that you agree to be in all their ads.” Sadie wrapped her sweater around her shoulder.

“You wouldn’t sign something like that?”

“Absolutely not.” The elevator opened, already full of people, and Sadie stepped in sideways. “But let’s go see who would.”

Chapter Five

Jake flipped and spun the roller cage on the table while he waited for the room to fill up. The red, wire cylinder was so stuffed with entries that he wasn’t sure spinning it did anything to mix them up.

Bunch of desperate women out there.

He chided himself for the uncharitable thought. The women who read the books he edited paid his bills. Paid pretty damn well, actually. He knew he sold fantasies—the chance to escape from the ordinary grind of daily life—and that most of the readers who bought the books recognized them for what they were.

This contest was just another fantasy.

It didn’t hurt anyone.

Except maybe Niall, the poor bastard who had agreed to spend an evening with whichever reader won.

In fact, the closest Jake had come to having to deal with fans was Sadie, who had been continuing her search for Jocelyn for the last twenty-four hours.

He flashed back to that moment in the elevator, the way her hands had felt against his chest. The way he had wanted to crush her to him, feel her soft skin against his.

Dammit. That was
not
helpful.

Sadie Quinn was the one woman at the conference he absolutely had to stay away from.

But every time he thought he’d dismissed her from his mind, she popped back up, either figuratively—or, he acknowledged wryly as he glanced toward the door and saw her curvy blond friend leading her into the room, in person.

Right on cue
.

He tilted his chin in acknowledgment of Amelia’s friendly wave, then nodded again when he caught Sadie’s eye. She responded with something that was almost a smile.

Busying himself with rearranging things on the table, he did his best not to watch where the pair took their seats.

Nothing to do with me. Nothing at all
.

“You ready for this?” Kamille asked as she moved up beside him.

“Not my monkeys, not my circus,” he said, but his smile contradicted the words.

“Oh, no,” his boss replied. “It’s your circus.” She stared around the room, her gaze lighting on the three models grouped in a back corner of the room. “But I fear they might be my monkeys.”

Jake snorted and handed her the cordless microphone. “Well, then, ringmaster, let’s get this sideshow started.”

Kamille spun the microphone through her fingers, flipped the switch to turn it on, and, with a wink, bounced up onto the low dais at the front of the room. Used to her standard patter at these events, Jake worked to keep the prizes moving out in an orderly manner. If he was there as her guy Friday, he could at least act the part.

His real work would come into play tomorrow, when he sat with her at the editor pitches and listened to the steady stream of hopeful writers coming through to talk about their manuscripts.

For most of the hour, Jake handed out baskets and bags of various romance-themed prizes.

But he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Sadie Quinn. Although she had begun the session looking slightly dismayed and perhaps even a little bored, her vivacious friend had quickly drawn her in, and the two of them were laughing wildly as they worked to match up the ridiculous penis-shaped markers to the squares on the Bad Boy Bingo cards that Kamille had had printed for the occasion.

When she wasn’t being so serious, Sadie’s brown eyes sparkled, he noticed, and the excitement brought a hint of color to her porcelain cheeks.

Once again, her hair had come out of its tight ponytail and was curling wildly around her face.

Just as he was wondering what it would feel like to let that mass of curls go and tumble free down her back, she glanced up and met his gaze.

For an instant, her lips softened and curved, and a wave of heat passed through him, pulling every inch of him toward her, leaving him hard with longing for her.

What the hell was that?

He gritted his teeth against the feeling and looked back down at the table to find the latest prize.

For the last half hour of the game, he avoided looking at Sadie again. When her friend Amelia came up to claim a prize she had won, he managed to speak to her without glancing toward their table.

Then, thank God, the hour was almost over. Only the model date was left to draw. Kamille, who had spent the whole time pacing back and forth as she called out slightly lewd categories for the bingo game, kept up her spiel as she made her way over to the prize table and the entry barrel, which had gained even more entries as the game had gone on.

“So. Who’s ready to win a date with one of our gorgeous cover models?” She waved toward the men, who had spent their time moving through the crowd, offering chocolate to the women.

Jake was glad his contract had kept him from having to do that job back when he was still modeling—even though he knew Kamille paid the guys especially well, it had always seemed a little demeaning to him.

The three models made their way to the front of the room, grinning, as Kamille asked the women to cheer for their favorites.

This part was rigged. Niall had already agreed to the date, but Kamille liked to put on a show.

Finally, it was time for the drawing.

Once this was done, Jake could stop by the hotel bar for a drink, or maybe two, and take it up to his room, where a virtual stack of manuscripts waited for him on his laptop.

He was ready to be done with this, at least for the day.

He might even order room service and skip dinner with the rest of the editorial team, all of whom still believed he was just Kamille’s assistant—or maybe her lover, depending on which rumors were circulating at any given moment.

He was lost in thoughts of escape when Kamille reached into the rolling barrel and pulled out a slip of paper. The room grew quiet as she glanced around.

In the sudden silence, her voice boomed over the microphone.

“The winner is…Sadie Quinn.”

…

As much fun as the game had been—more entertaining than she had ever expected—Sadie had begun to fantasize about getting out of this room and getting some air. She was just considering heading out onto the Strip to see some of the sights, when Kamille Stone called out her name.

Wait. What?

A wave of dizziness passed over her as she realized that Amelia was bouncing up and down in her seat, pointing down at Sadie and shouting, “She’s here, she’s here.”

“But…but…” Sadie stammered.
I didn’t even enter.

The grin on Amelia’s face gave her away.

“You scheming heifer,” Sadie hissed, but she stood up and moved toward the front of the room anyway. She’d deal with Amelia later. Now, she needed to explain that she couldn’t possibly accept the prize. She didn’t have any interest in going on a date with one of the muscle-bound pretty boys at the front of the room. Brawn wasn’t her thing.

What on earth would she say to him?

“Oh, no,” Sadie whispered, the sound whooshing out of her without her permission, and a hot blush crawled its way up her neck and across her cheeks. She couldn’t even think of anything to say. As she stepped up onto the short stage and turned to face the audience, she caught Jake Blaine staring at her, some indefinable expression racing across his face.

Startled, she glanced around at the other Intertwined employees until her gaze snagged on the model beside her, the man she was supposed to go out on a date with. Finally, she managed to pull her gaze away from his, but not before she caught a glimpse of the twinkle in his eye as the corner of his mouth crooked up.

By the time she opened her mouth to decline the prize, it was too late—Kamille Stone was talking up the dream date.

If she declined now, she’d look like even more of an idiot than she already did.

How utterly humiliating.

…

A flash of anger whipped through Jake when he heard Kamille call out Sadie’s name, the urge possessing him to sweep her up and away from Niall’s grinning face. Before he could stop himself, his hands fisted at his sides, and he took a half step forward.

What was he doing?

He needed to distract himself.

What would Jocelyn do?

This kind of mind game came easily enough to him at home, when he was sitting behind his computer and safe from willowy academic stalkers.

Why couldn’t he figure out how to put on Jocelyn’s persona now, when it counted?

WWJD, indeed.

With a half-smothered curse, he whipped out his phone and snapped a photo as Sadie stepped up beside Niall, her wild curls slipping out of their band to halo around her head in bouncing corkscrews.

The image caught her looking up at the model, wide-eyed and flushed, her lips slightly parted as he turned the full wattage of his overly white smile on her.

If it weren’t for that damned granny sweater and long skirt, she would look like
she
belonged on the cover of a romance novel.

Reminding himself that this was only for show—last he had heard, Niall was happily married, for Chrissakes—Jake composed a quick tweet, attached the photo, and uploaded it, then dropped the phone back into his pocket.

By the time Sadie glanced his direction again, he had moved to lean against a pillar with his arms crossed, propping himself up with one shoulder, one booted foot kicked over the other. He gave her a short, two-finger wave in the general direction of his forehead—not quite a salute, right on the verge of sarcastic, especially when paired with a slight smile.

She blushed a brighter red, and he instantly regretted the move.

Don’t be a dick, man.

He could tell, a moment later, when her own phone, still clutched in her hand, vibrated to let her know that Jocelyn had posted something. Kamille was asking her what her dream Vegas date was while the other women in the room snapped pictures and Niall and the other models surrounded her in all their hulking masculinity.

Sadie looked like a small bird, surrounded by sleek predators.

A tiny, wounded bird.

The thought surprised him.

He wouldn’t have considered her wounded.

In fact, the first thing that came to mind when he thought of Sadie was a line from a Shakespeare play, half remembered from college: “And though she be but little, she is fierce.”

So why was he convinced that she was miserable right now despite the fact that she was smiling for the cameras?

It had to have something to do with the men encircling her, though as far as he could see, they hadn’t done or said anything the least bit inappropriate.

He could still cheerfully take down every single one of them right now.

A prickling feeling on his neck warned him that someone was staring at him—but when he turned, it was only Kamille, watching him with an enigmatic smile.

What the hell?

Almost without conscious thought, he stood up straight and leaned over the table with the drawing barrel.

There. On the tablecloth printed with red-and-white hearts. A tiny square of paper, half-crumpled, where Kamille had tossed it as Sadie made her way to the front of the room. Jake scooped it up and opened it.

Caroline Decker.

Sadie hadn’t truly won at all.

What was Kamille up to?

When he turned to look at his boss again, she was still watching him, this time with one side of her mouth quirked up in a grin.

She winked and blew him a kiss, then turned on her microphone and took over the room again. “Okay, everyone. We need to clear out the room to get ready for our next event. But be sure to stop by the prize table on your way out—we have parting gifts for everyone who stuck around for the whole party. Thanks so much for joining us today.”

With all of the models posing for photos with the fans, Jake was left to hand out the gift packs himself as the women filed out of the room.

By the time the last reader left, Sadie had sneaked out another door.

So had Kamille, apparently, leaving Jake to direct the hotel staff members to box up the few remaining supplies and send them to Kamille’s suite.

The instant he had them sorted out, he was going to track down his boss and find out just exactly what she thought she was doing.