Romance: Wanted by the Alpha Lion (A BBW Paranormal Suspense Romance) (Heroes of Shifter Creek Book 2) (67 page)

Chapter 3

Dalton stared out the window, watching people passing by on the street. The Vegas Strip had to be the most entertaining avenue in the country. You never knew what you were going to see with the vast array of visitors from around the globe and the broad spectrum of cultures and backgrounds.

He’d reserved the table last night in the Breaking Vegas restaurant, owned and operated by the hotel, knowing how popular it was and how quickly it filled up in the morning and stayed full until closing at three in the afternoon. It was a small breakfast and lunch only café and provided everything from simple southern style breakfasts to exotic options from around the globe, tailored to the taste buds of the average American. Dalton thought of it as Elvis meets Wolfgang Puck.

He checked his watch again. Billie Roderick should be arriving in the next couple of minutes. Dalton clenched his jaw. Last night, he’d heard almost nothing from Brock, just a quick text that read,
Billie is here and settled into the penthouse. 10am meeting for breakfast remember.
Nothing else. Dalton seriously considered murder when all of this was finished. Brock was specifically baiting him, doing everything he could to make Dalton’s job more difficult and his anxiety worse.

Four days, he told himself. That’s how long he had to deal with this shit. In four days, the fashion show would be over, and all these twittering fools would go away. Four days, and he could wash his hands of the most feminine gala he’d ever had to arrange. Four days, and he would be done entertaining and catering to the whims of this Billie Roderick.

He watched the door, waiting to see Bruce, the concierge, who was supposed to be bringing the guest in to Dalton. For fear he might back out and disappoint himself as well as Brock, Dalton hadn’t looked up Roderick, so he had no idea what the guy looked like. But he would easily recognize Bruce with his signature mustache and pristine uniform.

He sat up straighter as the dignified older man strode toward him, but he couldn’t quite make out the person following behind until they were already halfway to the table. And then, Dalton almost fell off his stool.

Billie Roderick was an absolute knockout.

Bruce gave a polite bow. “Ms. Roderick, let me introduce you to our Director of Events Coordination, Mr. Dalton Winslow. Mr. Winslow, this is our very special guest and feature fashion designer, Ms. Billie Roderick.” He motioned to the chair across from Dalton, who stood like a true gentleman until she was seated.

He was stunned as Bruce walked away. Here he’d been expecting a man who would drive him mad, and instead, the woman could have been a model herself. Billie. The name was misleading, and now, he wished he’d done his research.

Her long, black hair shone like silk and hung straight and smooth to her waist, and parted down the middle, it was like a shimmering curtain framing a long, flawless face with high cheekbones. Her nose was thin and dainty, and her eyes were large and dark, surrounded by lush, thick lashes. Even seated, her body was the epitome of perfect, with a narrow waist and flat stomach that were accented by the gathered waistline of her very unique and modern dress – was that couture? But her hips were round and full, as were her breasts.

Her skin looked like it had been kissed by the sun, a nice light tan, and her lips were full and pouty. Her smile told Dalton she knew she’d shocked him, and he cleared his throat, realizing he’d probably been staring at her in silence for a lot longer than was polite.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m not quite myself this morning,” he told her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Roderick.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “The same to you, Mr. Winslow.” She had a slight accent, but Dalton couldn’t quite place it. His first guess might have been Miami Cuban, but there was something not quite right about it. “So, have you already eaten without me?”

Dalton looked down at the plate in front of him that had a few crumbs on it. “Oh, no, I have low blood sugar, so I just had a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice to make sure I wouldn’t pass out on you. There’s nothing like scaring a guest five minutes after you’re introduced, right?”

She laughed lightly. “I suppose you’re right, Mr. Winslow. In that case, I believe we should order soon. After all, I live in New York, and by my time, it’s already one in the afternoon. I’m starving.”

Dalton winced internally. He was going to ride Brock’s ass for not thinking about the time difference and jet lag when he scheduled this meeting. He handed her the menu he’d saved, and she browsed quickly, closing the menu with a definitive flair. Dalton motioned to the waiter, who appeared tableside instantly. “Are you ready to order?”

Billie smiled up at him, and Dalton swallowed hard. He’d been with a lot of beautiful women, but there was a unique, classic quality to this woman that punched him square in the gut and knocked the wind out of him. “Yes, please. I would like the eggs benedict with a strawberry and crème waffle. If I could get some extra crème on the side, as well, that would be wonderful. And a coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am. And for you, sir?”

Dalton didn’t go out on typical dates, and it was rare that he shared a meal with a woman. For some reason, he found himself nervous, and that made him angry. Pushing down his concerns, he told the waiter, “Let me get a Colorado omelet with a bagel and cream cheese on the side. I would also like a coffee.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like the bagel toasted?”

“Yes, please.” The waiter nodded and hurried off to put in the order. Trying to think of innocuous conversation topics that would keep him from feeling awkward and at least find some common ground with a woman who likely came from a very different background than he did, he hedged, “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” she laughed. “I have to say, I’ve been able to stay in a few very nice hotels since I started touring, but the penthouse here takes the cake. That bed is like a cloud. I was so exhausted after the flight anyway that I could have slept on a wooden crate!”

Dalton smiled. “Well, you won’t find wooden crates in any of our rooms. How long have you been in fashion? I hate to say it, but I don’t know the first thing about pop culture and the fashion industry.”

The coffee arrived, and she added creamer and sugar to hers while she talked, her expression pensive. “I’ve been designing clothes since I was maybe nine or ten. Just for myself, mostly, and then I started to learn more about it and branched out. I interned with a couple of designers to learn the business, worked in a couple of retail boutiques to pay my way through getting a degree in fashion design.”

There was something she wasn’t saying, and Dalton wondered what it was, but he didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business, and he was just trying to make things more comfortable between them. She smiled ruefully. “I never thought I’d be here, though. I only wanted to make a living at it. I love what I do, Mr. Winslow, and that’s the primary object here. The money and the fame are just bonuses.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, how did you end up in the entertainment industry?”

That was a story he didn’t particularly want to talk about. It was hard enough to think he’d retain the woman’s respect and be able to tolerate her demands once they got started on the final details of this whole extravaganza. He didn’t need her to look down on him for his past.

Trying to find a way to be honest without revealing too much, Dalton told her, “Brock and I sort of went into this together. We both started at the bottom, bellhops, and we worked our asses off to climb the ladder. We both invested our savings wisely, and Brock actually hit a huge high and cashed out. Little by little, he started saving up, and eventually, we managed to take over here. I’ve had a few contacts in the music industry, and it’s given me the tools I need to acquire talent in several genres for shows and special events.”

It sounded good enough. No one needed to know about how much the club had invested in this hotel and casino behind the scenes to take control.

“I have a lot of respect for people who start at the bottom and work their way up,” Billie said with a nod of approval. “You have done well for yourself. I’m impressed. The question is, will I be as impressed with what you’ve put together for the fashion show as I am with your work ethic?”

Dalton smirked. He should have known the doubt would come out at some point, and he’d end up defending himself against a prima donna. She’d seemed humble at first, but now that the niceties had concluded, the claws were going to come out, and she would show her true colors. “Trust me, Ms. Roderick, I think you’re going to like what you see.”

Chapter 4

Breakfast had started out quite pleasant, but somehow, Dalton Winslow had changed a few minutes into the meal. He’d drawn into himself and become shorter in her responses, clipped, and what Billie had thought was genuine interest in her and what she had to say dissipated.

It was too bad. Mr. Winslow was even more handsome than Brock had been. In fact, it had taken every ounce of Billie’s self control to contain her reaction as she’d first been introduced to him. She’d kept it to a sharp but silent inhale of breath as she took it all in. She had a thing for tall men, and Dalton had to be at least a couple of inches over six feet tall. That alone was enough to peak her interest.

But Billie had much more than that to gawk at. The guy’s dark blond hair was in complete opposition to the fine suit he wore, hanging loose and a bit long over his ears and forehead, and she had a feeling that, when he wasn’t at work, he would shed the suit and become something more worldly, maybe a bit dangerous. His gray-blue eyes were windows to his emotions, and they had showed her his ability to tease and open up when the conversation began. But then, they had faded and become belligerent a few minutes later.

It didn’t really matter. Billie found him attractive enough, but she’d been alone for a long time, and she didn’t need a man in her life. She had fun when she wanted to, but if her mother could raise four kids alone with no resources, Billie figured she could take care of herself without a man around. If she ever did fall in love with a man who didn’t resent her for being strong and independent or for making so much money of simply for being busy all the time with her career, then it would just be an added bonus to a rewarding and happy life.

After the meal was done, Mr. Winslow recovered slightly and escorted her to the ballroom, telling her about the space and parts of the plan. “We’re using our largest ballroom, which is our second largest facility next to the theater. I don’t think the theater would work for this, though. We want the most important attendees – the fashion journalists and the buyers and such – up close and personal with the runway. That doesn’t work in a theater.”

Billie agreed with that. He continued, “We can accommodate 1500 seats with standing room around the edges for another 250. After the show, we’ll move quickly to take down the stage and pick up the chairs, lining the walls with them so there’s still seating but far more room for mingling and waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres. We’ll have delicacies like caviar and escargot, but we’ll also have beautifully presented smoked salmon bites, turkey pate, and other more common foods that still appear to be gourmet.”

“I like that idea,” she said. It matched her entire concept for her clothing – couture for the masses meant that everyday clothing at affordable prices could still be unique and high fashion rather than uncomfortable specialties. She eyed Dalton carefully. “You say you don’t know anything about fashion, but your concept for the show matches my design. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

He looked away but not before Billie saw a spark in his eyes. He didn’t take compliments very well, or maybe he didn’t recognize them when he heard them because he hadn’t gotten them often enough. “There was some information provided in the packet about the event. It explained why your line was so innovative and how you’d risen to popularity so quickly. That’s all.”

He’d gotten a bit surly, and she let it go. He obviously didn’t want to show any interest in her or her work, and he wasn’t happy about having to put together something he felt was beneath him, or perhaps not masculine enough for him. Billie understood, she supposed. A lot of men had insecurities that were easily brought to the surface. Apparently, Dalton Winslow fell into that category.

It was a shame. Billie had held out some hope that working with him would be a breeze, based on their initial meeting. But the longer she was with him as they toured the hotel and casino and discussed the logistics of containing the show and having strong security to keep anyone else out, the more she realized that one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on was also going to be one of the most difficult she’d ever worked with.

She squared her shoulders. There was something about the man that intrigued her, and though he seemed to want to keep his distance, Billie felt a strong urge to get close to him. He could snarl and grouch and clam up all he wanted. She was going to play the strong, feminine role she’d grown accustomed to in her career. Only this time, she was going to use it to get what she wanted from Dalton Winslow.

Eventually, they wrapped back around to the lobby, and Billie had to admit he was an excellent tour guide, though the hotel was so large she would get lost if she went exploring without clear direction and a concise destination. He pointed to the far wall, where he had first led her past the elevators and to the ballroom. “We’ll have signs here to show the way, and on the far side of the elevators, we’ll have a line that’s roped off, with a check-in table manned by four people and a single door that leads into the ballroom,” he said.

It sounded like he’d covered all the bases, thought through every possible problem. “I am truly impressed. You are an excellent planner, Mr. Winslow, and I hope you’re well compensated for this much work. I’m sure you’ve had other events going on while planning this, and you’ve still managed to pull it all together and wrap it up with a bow. You must have worked so many hours!”

“I didn’t do it alone,” he said, scratching his head. That was curious, and she wondered if Dalton had a problem with the fact that he’d needed help to pull off the work. “You met Brock last night. His girl, Tanya, helped with some of the finer details. I’m good with time and logistics, and I’m pretty good with meal planning and that sort of thing. But presentation and setup and that kind of detail, she handled. I think Brock’s bringing her to lunch, so you can talk to her about any décor you want to change and things like that.”

Billie nodded, taking it all in. “From what I’ve seen, there’s not much I would’ve done differently myself. I’d like to get a little clarity on a couple of things that are rather important to me, but we have a couple of days to go over everything.” She smiled at him. “Is that everything?”

He rubbed his hands together and looked thoughtful. “I’d like to show you the stage design and make sure you like the setup. I’ve got it down to a ten minute setup and eight minute takedown, and it’s still sturdy and looks great. I mean, it’s dvery professional. But if you want something more aesthetic, I need to know right away so I can get going on it.”

She followed him through the casino and into a corridor behind a door she hadn’t noticed until he opened it. The hall was lined with offices, and he passed most of them. “I have to apologize in advance. I never have anyone in my office, so don’t hate on me because it’s small. I work outside on the floor most of the time, and when I’m in here, it’s just me. I don’t need a lot of space.”

Teasingly, she told him, “Maybe not physically, but I bet your ego could use a little room to grow.”

He gave her a strange look, like he couldn’t tell if it was meant as a compliment or insult. Shaking it off, he said, “Anyway, under normal circumstances, I’d probably take you to Brock’s office. It’s bigger and nicer. But he’s in meetings all morning, so I’m stuck with mine.” Finally, he reached for a closed door. It was a corner office, but he was right. It was a shoebox, and there were no windows.

No wonder he didn’t use it often.

He motioned to the chair on the front side of his desk, which was small, and he sat behind it, pulling out a file from a very neat and organized drawer. So, he kept things straight and orderly. Billie liked that. Most of the men she knew lived in utter chaos. He opened the file and showed her pictures of the stage in various states of construction, explaining where the makeup and changing area would be and how the seating would be configured.

“Here’s the seating arrangement with the stage fully erect,” he said. Billie couldn’t help but glance at him, considering his choice of words, and she knew he’d caught his mistake from the pink in his cheeks.

She wouldn’t have figured him for the type to blush at all. In fact, she’d heard rumors this morning about the men who ran the hotel being unorthodox and more than a little flirtatious in a lewd sort of way. If she had to guess, Billie would have thought he meant the innuendo. But apparently, she’d misjudged him.

Still, she couldn’t help but toy with him. “Are you in the habit of taking pictures of things when they’re fully erect?”

He stared at her with his jaw slack, obviously shocked at her brazen question. To his credit, Dalton recovered quickly, and he gave her a leering grin. “Were you hoping to see some?”

She laughed and pointed to the file, dodging the question. “This all looks perfect. I have no complaints, except that we’ll need access to restrooms from our staging area that aren’t accessible to the public or the attendees.”

Dalton’s brow furrowed, and Billie could tell he was thinking and trying to find a solution. “I’ll have that worked out by the end of the day.” He sat back in his chair, glancing at the clock on the wall behind her. “We’ve got about half an hour till we’re supposed to be at lunch. Was there anything else you needed or wanted to see before we go, or did you need to go back to your room for anything?”

Billie considered inviting him to join her in her room, just to see what sort of response she would get. But she wasn’t quite ready for the answer. Instead, she stretched, noting that his eyes fell to her chest as it moved with her. “I think I’d like to freshen up a bit. It’ll only take me about fifteen minutes. Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” He was out of his chair and holding the door to the office open for her in a heartbeat, and Billie knew she’d flustered him. She smiled to herself as he walked her down the corridor and out to the casino, pointing her in the direction of the lobby. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Billie nodded and headed toward the exit, hoping he was watching the sway of her hips as she walked away.