Two to Wrangle (14 page)

“I like this look, Monica. It really turns me on. Why didn't you ever do this before?”

“I don't know. I wasn't comfortable. It wasn't me.”

“Are you saying this is the new you? If so, I'd be happy to let you try out the new me.”

“New, Evan? I'm having trouble buying that one.”

“I'm here, aren't I?” He ran a finger lightly down her arm. “Doesn't that prove I care?”

“It proves you don't like to lose. That's not new. I already knew that about you.”

“What didn't work for you?” he asked. “Did I not fuck you enough? Is that it?”

“No, that's not it. I wasn't into it any more or any less than you were. Maybe that was the problem. We didn't have . . .”

Evan rolled his eyes with a groan. “Don't tell me you were about to spout off some schmaltz about fireworks.”

“Yes, Evan,” she replied with a sad smile. “I was going to say fireworks.”

“That's what you really want, Monica?” He set his glass down on the side table and turned to face her. “Why didn't you ever say so?”

“Because it doesn't work that way. Chemistry like that just . . . happens.”

He moved in closer, his face only inches away. She started to pull back, but he held her shoulders. “Oh yeah? Well, I think it's happening right now.”

Ty slid his key card into the lock of the owner's suite before it even occurred to him to knock. He almost closed the door again but shook off the idea. He'd told her ten. Who else would she be expecting?

“Monica? You ready?” Ty called out as he entered the living area—and stopped dead in his boots. Willing himself to breathe normally, he took in the suggestive scene.

“Ty?” Monica rose with a guilty look, knocking over her drink and spilling it on the guy beside her. Ty didn't need a formal introduction to know it was Evan. Although they'd seen each other once or twice in passing, they'd never actually met.

“Omigod, Evan! I'm so sorry,” she said. “Can I get you a towel?”

“No need.” Evan pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket. He silently sized Ty up, even as he wiped himself off. Ty returned the favor but had the advantage of being on his feet and not wiping a spilled drink from his lap. What kind of pussy carried a monogrammed hankie?

Ty moved into the room in a deceptively calm and deliberate stride and extended his right hand. “Don't think I've had the pleasure.”

“Ty, this is Evan Hirschfeld Davis. Evan is . . . er . . . a good friend of mine.” Monica finished the sentence awkwardly as if unsure how to classify the relationship. He was no longer her boss and they weren't engaged anymore. Ty's gaze dropped to her left hand to be certain. Nope. No ring. “Evan, this is Ty Morgan,” she continued the introduction, visibly flustered. “He's the new CEO of Brandt Morgan Entertainment.”

“Ty,” Evan nodded and stood to clasp his hand. Ty held the height advantage but not by as much as he'd thought. Evan's gaze was steady and his handshake firm and confident. It said no bullshit. Ty could at least respect that in the man.

“Did I interrupt something?” Ty asked, adding silently,
like you making a move on my woman?

“Not at all.” Evan replied just as evenly and with a “Fuck off” smirk. “It seems I'm the gate-crasher here. Monica said she had a business meeting this evening.”

“Is that what she called it?” Ty asked. “I s'pose you
could
call it business. I hope yours can wait, because mine can't.”

“I'm sorry, Evan,” Monica interjected with a tight smile. “Maybe later?”

Ty gave him a look that clearly said,
Over my dead fucking body . . . or maybe yours.

“Just say the word, Mon.” Evan replied smoothly.

“Do you have some kind of wrap or shawl you could wear with that dress?” Ty asked, wanting a moment to set things straight for the intruding asshole. “You might get cold in such a little bitty dress.”

“Give me a minute and I'll look for something,” Monica replied.

“Sure thing, sugar.”

Evan scowled at the pet name.

Both men watched her departing ass. Hot damn, that dress was about to give Ty a heart attack. “You'd best stop looking at her like that. And I better never see your hands on her again either,” Ty murmured with a smile.

“She's way out of your league, cowboy.”

“Is she now?” Ty remarked, stretching his smile.

“Are you actually implying she dumped me for
you
?” Evan asked with a snort.

“Apparently she knows a good thing when she sees it. You didn't.” Ty shrugged. “Guess that means I win. You lose.”

“Who says the game's over?” Evan replied. “I never lose, cowboy. I've got more money and more influence than you could ever imagine. I always get what I want.”

“Is that right, Evan?” Monica stood in the doorway, her wrap around her shoulders and bag in hand. “Did I just interrupt some kind of pissing contest? If so, I can end it now.” She looked from one man to the other and then added with a smile, “For the record, Evan, Ty's is bigger.”

“Y
ou're welcome, Ty,” Monica replied tightly as they exited the hotel.

“I know you meant well,” he said, “but that was emasculating as hell.”

“For you or for him?” she asked with a laugh. “You came out the clear winner.”

“That's not the point. I didn't want or need your interference, Monica,” he grumbled. “I can handle arrogant assholes like that. Been doing it my whole life.”

“So what did you expect me to do? Stand there and let him insult you? The way you two were eyeballing each other, I was beginning to think I might see some blood.”

“I doubt it would have come to that,” he said.

“So it was all just ridiculous male posturing?”

“Pretty much,” he confessed.

“He really does have more money and influence than you, Ty,” Monica said. “He made the Forbes Top 100 mogul list just last year. There's no way you could ever top him in anything related to business, but you are in fact much better endowed.” She smiled smugly. “That shut him right down, didn't it?”

“Sure did. He may never get it up again.” He signaled the limo. “I miss my damned truck.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the LINQ,” he answered and then murmured something to Frankie before handing her into the car. “I have to say Evan's presence probably saved the evening.”

“Saved it? How?”

“We might not have even got out the door tonight if he hadn't been there.”

“Why's that?” she asked.

“That dress, Monica. All I can think of is peeling it off you—with my teeth.”

“Funny you should say that. I was having similar thoughts about you.”

“Oh yeah?” he rubbed his smooth-shaven chin.

“Most definitely,” she purred. “I've always had a major thing about power suits. It's one of the reasons I was so confused about my attraction to you. You don't exactly dress to impress, Ty. I once tried to picture you in a suit like this, but I have to admit, my imagination didn't even come close to doing you justice.”

He grinned. “I look that good, huh?”

“Oh yeah, cowboy. If I could move in this dress, I'd straddle you right now.”

“Don't let that stand in your way, sugar,” Ty said. “Dresses are real easy to work around.”

“But I thought you said we had some kind of schedule to keep?”

“We do, so I guess I'll have to ask you to save that item for later. I think we can manage to work it into the agenda. I'll prioritize it.”

“The agenda?” she repeated. “That sounds awfully businesslike.”

“It's meant to be, Ms. Brandt. This is, in fact, a business meeting.”

“At the LINQ?” She'd passed by it a number of times but had never checked it out.

A few minutes later the limo pulled up in front of the High Roller observation wheel. “Is this it?” she asked in surprise. “You're taking me on an amusement ride?”

“You'll see soon enough,” he replied evasively.

Instead of waiting in the ticket line, they were escorted by a uniformed security guard through the back entrance and directly to the loading area, where they boarded one of the glass-enclosed observation pods.

“The wheel completes a full rotation every thirty minutes, but this pod is ours alone for the rest of the night,” Ty said.

“Really? We have it all to ourselves?”

“Yes,” he said. “They've flagged us as ‘Do not disturb.' ”

Monica noticed the table set with crystal and fine china. “A catered dinner too? No expense spared, I see. I'm doubly impressed.” She walked slowly across the floor to stare out at The Strip as they began the slow ascent. It was a moonless night, but the bright city lights seemed to stretch their fingers clear up to the heavens. “It's an incredible view,” she murmured.

“Just wait until we get to the top,” he said. “This thing rises five hundred fifty feet above the city.”

“It's beautiful, but why was it so important to show me?” She turned to face him. “I don't understand, Ty. I thought you were going to explain to me why you want to keep the hotel.”

“I didn't bring you up here to talk about the hotel,” he said. “I brought you for something far more important than that.”

He came from behind to wrap both big arms around her, pulling her in against his body as he gazed over her shoulder out at the Las Vegas Strip. “I came out here eight years ago at rock bottom. I was a blank slate with no plans, no dreams, and very little hope for my future, other than getting through another drink-less day. I'd just come out of rehab and was in the middle of a nasty divorce. I don't have a clue what Tom saw in me at that point, but he was somehow moved to help me start over.” He turned her around to face him, his green-and-gold-flecked eyes seeking hers.

“Vegas saved me, Monica. I fell in love with this place the very first time I saw it at night—the lights, the sounds, the excitement. It brought me back to life, filled me with possibilities of what could still be. Just look out there right now. Look at those explosions of light and bursts of color. Every night here is like the damn Fourth of July. And that's us, Monica. That's what it feels like whenever we're together. We're Las Vegas.”

“Fireworks,” she whispered. “But fireworks don't last, Ty. They always fizzle and burn out.”

“But Vegas doesn't,” he insisted. “Night after night it comes alive, dazzling the barren desert with all of its garish glory. For eight years I've had this vision of building my own legacy down there, of making my own lasting mark in this desert. Vegas symbolizes all my hopes and dreams. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

“I don't know, Ty. I thought I did. Just yesterday I felt like I finally understood, but then . . .” His rejections of her ideas after looking at the sketches had hurt deeply.

“I wasn't ready,” he said. “I wasn't secure enough to share it.”

“And now suddenly you are?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am. That's why I brought you up here. I needed you to see this. I thought that if you understood my vision, maybe you could also share my dream.”

“But you don't really need me, Ty.” Her throat tightened as she reached into her purse and pulled out the check. “You can do it all without me.”

“What's this?” he asked.

“Fifty million. The money's yours. Interest free. I want you to build your dream, Ty.”

Making no move to take the money, he let out an exasperated snort. “You still don't get it, do you?”

“No,” she said, confused by his reaction. “I'm not so sure I do.”

She gasped as he took the check from her hand and tore it in half. “What the hell did you do that for?” she shrieked. “That was fifty million, Ty! Are you freaking crazy?”

“No, I'm not crazy,” he replied with a slow shake of his head. “I finally understand what's been missing. Dreams are meant to be shared, Monica. I realized that yesterday.”

“Yesterday you totally shut me down when I wanted to be a part of this. What changed?”

“The thought of you leaving again,” he said. “The idea of going it alone just feels empty . . . meaningless.” He nodded to the view below. “It felt as if someone flipped off the power switch and threw that entire scene down there into total blackness. The hotel doesn't matter anymore, if you aren't part of it. If you leave here I'm selling it to Evan.”

She gaped. “What did you say?”

“You heard me right. If you leave me, Evan comes out the winner. Isn't that what you wanted all along? Or is he the only one who would finally get what he wants?”

“I can't believe this,” she said. “All this time I thought all you really cared about was the hotel and getting the money to rebuild it.”

“Maybe I did in the beginning, but that was before you. Now I realize there's something I want more. I want you, Monica. If you think you could be happy here, I'd like you to stay in Vegas, even if it means fighting and squabbling our way to a grand reopening. If you want to go, I'd ask you to consider making a life with me on a five-thousand-acre spread in Oklahoma. It's in the middle of nowhere, but at least we have a plane and lots of privacy if we ever decide we'd like to try our hand at making babies.”

“Tom would have loved that,” she said.

“Yeah,” Ty answered with a soft smile. “He sure would've.”

“What if I don't want to live on a ranch?” she asked. “What if I suddenly got a wild hair and decided I wanted to travel to the French Riviera?”

Ty cocked his head with a frown. “Depends. Do they still have topless beaches over there?”

“I'm serious, Ty. What if I wanted to travel?” Monica asked.

“How long would you want to travel for?” he asked.

“I don't know. A month or two, maybe.”

“We're gonna have to shut the hotel down anyway for construction. We could close at any time now that we're through the bull-riding finals.”

“You're serious?” she asked.

“Yeah. I figure the demolition part is gonna take a few weeks, but I don't have to be here for that. I just need to be back for the construction.”

“How long do you figure for that?” she asked.

“I'd say we're looking at anywhere from twelve to eighteen months, depending on permits and such,” Ty said. “I'm hoping to do it in phases so we don't put our people completely out of work. I'd like to get started as soon as we get our plans approved, but right now we're still not even decided on what those plans are gonna be, so I don't see why I couldn't take some time off.”

“I can't believe we're even having this conversation,” Monica said. “You'd really hop on a plane tomorrow and go traveling with me?”

“I didn't say tomorrow, sugar, but I think I could go for a few weeks, if that's what you really want. Maybe you could show me that Spanish bullring?”

“You really mean that, Ty?” she asked, her throat choking with tears.

“Don't give me too much credit,” he replied with a sexy grin, “Maybe I just have fantasies of you and me joining the Mile High Club.”

“Do you now?” Grabbing his shirt collar, she pushed him backward onto the bench seat and then straddled his lap. “If that's the case, Ty, why wait?”