Werewolf in Las Vegas (8 page)

“Does he have any more tricks like this up his sleeve?”

“Probably. I'll have to think back to those days and make a list. Some things he did were never blamed on him. Others he couldn't resist taking the credit for and was willing to accept being grounded in exchange for the glory of a prank well and truly executed. He was at his peak around twelve, and I was only ten and easily impressed.”

“I'm thirty going on two hundred, and I'm not impressed at all.” He heard the martyred tone of his voice and winced. He'd inherited a fortune, and he'd acquired the education to manage it. He was grateful for what he had.

But maybe he was wound a little too tight. He had a pretty good idea of how to unwind, but he also had a strong suspicion Giselle had a sweetheart back in 'Frisco. Even if she didn't, she couldn't think kindly of a man who'd made cutting remarks about her brother.

He took a deep breath and a mental step back. “Look, I apologize for that crack. I don't know Bryce at all, and it's possible I've made some unfair assumptions about him.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “I'm glad to hear you say that, Luke.”

“From his viewpoint, he might think he's helping solve the problem.”

“I believe he does. I'll bet they've bonded over the fact their relatives are leaning on them in ways they don't like.”

“I don't want them to bond permanently.” Luke realized that didn't sound very complimentary, either. “Nothing against your brother, but—”

“I know. Believe me, I'm hoping they're just good friends.” She glanced over at him. “Are you going to look at what's in the envelope?”

“I can guarantee it's another of her recital pictures. Maybe I should leave it in there for now, where it's protected. At this rate, I don't know where another blast of water might come from. Listen, would you be willing to head back to the penthouse so we could have a strategy session without me being in danger of water sabotage?”

She hesitated. “I'll walk back with you, but I was thinking I should fetch the Harley and go back to my hotel room. It's been a long day.”

That clinched it for him. She wasn't interested in spending any more time with him than necessary. “Okay. I'm sure you're tired. How would you like to handle any more communication from them, assuming they stick together?”

“We can forward texts to each other. I'm willing to meet you if it looks as if we need to do that, but we probably should both get some sleep and continue this tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. I'll walk you back to the Silver Crescent parking lot.” This time, he didn't reach for her hand. She was making it pretty obvious that wouldn't be a welcome gesture from him. The depth of his disappointment took him by surprise. In a very short time, Giselle Landry had gotten under his skin.

During the water show at the Bellagio, Giselle had found herself thinking about something she was strongly opposed to—having sex with a human. And not just any human, either. She needed to put some distance between herself and Luke ASAP.

They walked in silence back to the Silver Crescent. The music from the water show thrummed in her veins, and pictures of Luke flashed through her mind. She'd been aware of him watching her during the show, and his presence there had been exciting—way too exciting.

His comments afterward had tickled her, because they told her he'd been thinking similar thoughts, but he'd wanted to appear cool and composed. But when she'd looked into his eyes and felt that click of recognition, that moment when she could all too easily allow herself to get carried away, she'd pulled back.

Seeing the sadness in his expression hadn't made her feel very good, but she was doing the right thing for both of them. Giving in to the pull of their mutual attraction wouldn't be doing either of them any favors.

He stayed with her until she'd retrieved the Harley and was ready to leave. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, which reminded her of the moment in the hotel room when he'd done the same thing. His gestures, his smiles, his laughter, were becoming important to her. That had to stop.

“So if anything happens,” he said, “I'll text you, and vice versa.”

“That works.”

He smiled. “We didn't eat the cake, but I'm sure they have great desserts at Illusions, too.”

“I'm sure they do.” She started the engine. “We'll keep in touch.”

“Right.”

She started down the street and fought the odd sensation that she was leaving someone important behind. No, she was leaving
temptation
behind. Maybe Luke Dalton was a test of her resolve not to get sexually involved with a human male. If so, it had turned out to be tougher than she'd ever imagined it would be.

Traffic was heavy, and she was held up by a red light. Her cell phone chimed, but the light changed and she had to concentrate on her driving. Two lights later, she finally glanced at the message.
Another riddle. Want me to take this one?

Damn, her heart started pounding as if she were seventeen and had been asked to a dance. That was bad. Pulling into the circular drive at Illusions, she balanced on her bike and looked at the riddle.
Romance in the air, voices raised in song, artistry in movement as they glide along.

Had to be the gondola rides at the Venetian. She sat there telling herself to let it go. But doggone it, she wanted to know what Bryce and Cynthia had cooked up for the gondola ride at the Venetian. She could meet Luke there, satisfy her curiosity, and come straight back here.

But not on the Harley. It
had
been a long day, and an emotional one. Her reflexes might not be as quick as she needed them to be in Vegas traffic. She'd cab it this time. After quickly texting Luke that she'd meet him at the Venetian in about twenty minutes, she turned the Harley over to valet parking and hopped in one of the cabs parked at the curb.

Luke must have been watching for her, because when she got out of the cab in front of the Venetian, he was right there. “Thanks for coming. No Harley?”

“I was ready to let someone else drive.”

Sympathy flashed in his eyes. “You really are pooped, aren't you?”

“I am, but my curiosity got the better of me.”

“You understand it's a water ride, right?”

“Yep.”

“And you're willing to risk it, knowing that Bryce has cooked up something special?”

She decided to be as honest as possible. “I tried to talk myself out of meeting you here, but I couldn't stand the idea of not knowing firsthand what they've come up with now.”

His boyish grin flashed. “Let's go check out the gondola rides.” And he took her hand.

She could have pulled away, but the simple fact was she didn't want to. Holding his hand earlier tonight had been a pleasure. She would go back to Illusions after this, so she told herself she could allow herself to hold his hand now.

As they started into the building, a young guy who looked to be around twenty stepped forward. “Are you Luke Dalton and Giselle Landry?”

Luke glanced at Giselle and she gave him a thumbs-up. They were here now, so they might as well see what happened next.

“Yes, we are,” Luke said.

“Then come with me. Someone has paid an obscene amount of money for you to have a custom gondola ride.”

“Wait a minute.” Luke caught his arm. “How custom? Are we going to get wet?”

“How would you get wet?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Luke said. “The boat capsizes, or sinks, something like that.”

The guy shook his head and smiled. “Not gonna happen. I think the custom part is that you go to the head of the line, and the gondolier has agreed to sing something special for you.” He looked at them with a twinkle in his eyes. “Special night for you two, maybe?”

“Yes,” Giselle said. “Very special.” She enjoyed the shock in Luke's expression. “He just popped the question.”

“Excellent!” The kid beamed at them. “Congratulations! We love romance at the Venetian. Right this way. I'll take you to your gondola.”

“What question?” Luke asked as they followed the guy at a brisk pace. “I didn't pop any question.”

She lowered her voice. “Yes, you did. You asked if I was ready to risk a water ride with you.”

“Yeah, but that was
a
question, not
the
question. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Relax. I have no interest in a trip down the aisle. But that kid was expecting something, so I played along.” Pretending to be his engaged girlfriend might not be the wisest thing she'd ever done, but again, it seemed like a harmless bit of silliness and it made the gondola folks happy.

A little voice in the back of her mind taunted her with the possibility that she was acting out a fantasy of her own by masquerading as Luke's one-and-only. So what if she was? It was just a water ride, over in a few minutes. It didn't matter.

•   •   •

Much as Luke chafed under the constraints of this game Cynthia was playing, it had its rewards. The lure of a riddle had brought Giselle to the Venetian, and even though she was playacting this gondola scene, he intended to enjoy himself, at least until he became drenched. He knew it would happen. He just didn't know when.

“This lucky couple is celebrating a very special night,” said the guy who'd brought them to the gondola landing. “I know you'll take good care of them, Luigi.”

“Luigi?” Luke looked at the gondolier. “Really?”

“While I'm giving gondola rides.” The dark-haired, olive-skinned man in a shirt with vertical stripes flashed his white teeth. “Are we ready?”

“Absolutely.” Giselle looked at Luke and lowered her voice. “You should put your arm around me.”

“Oh.” This experience continued to improve. He discovered that Giselle made a very good snuggling partner. She understood exactly how to nestle her curves against his angles so they fit like a couple of puzzle pieces.

“Perfect,” Luigi said. “Don't forget the tradition.”

Luke glanced at the gondolier. “What tradition?”

“Couples in love usually kiss going under the bridges.”

“Oh.” Luke felt Giselle stiffen.

“And we're off,” Luigi said.

Luke put his mouth next to Giselle's ear. Breathing in her scent jacked up his pulse, but he made himself say what he figured she wanted to hear. “Don't worry. I won't honor that tradition.”

“Okay.” She relaxed against him in obvious relief.

So he wouldn't kiss her, but that didn't meant he couldn't enjoy the cuddling. He had an armful of very beautiful woman, and she felt warm and exceedingly willing. That wasn't real, of course, but he could dream.

The boat did, indeed, glide along, and he could understand why couples found this to be a stimulating experience. The phallic shape of the boat and the liquid canal . . . well, it was obvious, right?

The gondola ride drew spectators, a cheerful lot who waved at the passing boats. Luke kept a sharp eye out for Cynthia and Bryce, but even if they were in the crowd, they wouldn't be close enough to aim a squirt gun accurately.

All was well in his world until the gondolier began to sing. It wasn't his voice, which turned out to be a deep baritone and was probably one of the reasons he'd been hired. It was his choice of songs, or rather Cynthia's choice of songs. The song was “I Hope You Dance
.
”

She was determined to break him. The lyrics of the song fit her campaign, but the song cut deeper than that. Every time he heard it he was transported back to a dark auditorium where he and his folks had watched his little sister perform her first solo, a ballet to this very number. She'd been fourteen, which was young to be dancing a solo number. But she'd begged her teacher for the chance and had knocked one out of the park.

He swore softly under his breath, which helped to block the relentless parade of sentimental images. Giselle obviously heard his muted but colorful language, because she began to shake with silent laughter.

Cynthia was playing dirty, but she was sure focused. That had been Giselle's evaluation, and boy, had she nailed it. Cynthia had decided that she wanted something and she was by damn going to get it, no matter how long she had to torture him.

He wondered if she'd find a way to work water into this gig after all. But the Venetian couldn't risk having guests end up in the canal, either accidentally or on purpose. No matter how much money Cynthia had thrown at them, they weren't going to dump his ass overboard.

Besides, that lacked finesse. He was in a boat, and shoving him into the water would be crude and obvious, in addition to lawsuit-worthy. Even though Giselle hadn't listed her brother's various pranks yet, Luke had already figured out that Landry went for the unexpected and the relatively harmless.

Bryce was, Luke grudgingly acknowledged, a good match for Cynthia. She had always been so pressured to use her intelligence to excel, and she probably admired Bryce for using his for smart-aleck tricks. Luke only hoped she wouldn't admire anything else about him. Being in league together against the uncooperative big brother was one thing. Being in love with each other was more serious.

The song continued endlessly as the gondolier gave it all he had. He'd probably been told this was
their
song. Ironically, it would become their song tonight. Now every time he heard it, he'd think of Cynthia's dance recital, but he'd also remember this gondola ride. He had a feeling memories of Giselle would haunt him long after she'd left town.

For the time being, though, she was very much here. As she sat next to him, she was quickly losing it. Her shaking had become more pronounced, and little snorts of laughter were escaping around the hand she'd clamped over her mouth.

The gondolier was really getting into it, and the crowd lining the canal loved the performance. They clapped and whistled their approval, which only encouraged Luigi to ham it up some more. As he flung his arm into the air and projected the single word
dance,
someone lobbed a baseball-sized object toward the boat.

Luke barely had time to shield Giselle before it landed on his head and broke. A water balloon! He should have guessed.

“Security!” Luigi bellowed as he abandoned his song. “Someone's throwing water balloons! Security!”

“No big deal,” Luke said. He'd rather not have Cynthia and Landry arrested, although they were probably long gone by now, anyway.

Luigi turned and crouched next to Luke. “Sir, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? The Venetian will make this right. I've never had someone throw a water balloon at my boat before. I'm really sorry. And on your special night, too.”

Luke ran a hand over his dripping face. “I'm fine, really. It's only water. Takes me back to my high school days.”

Luigi still seemed concerned. “I wish I could promise that we'll find whoever threw that balloon, but with crowds like this, it's nearly impossible.”

“I doubt you will find him,” Giselle said. “I'm pretty sure it was my brother.”

“Oh?” Luigi looked surprised, and then he grinned. “A little welcome-to-the-family prank on this guy, huh?” He glanced at Luke. “I suggest you keep your honeymoon plans to yourself, my friend.”

“Luigi, those plans are so top secret even I don't know what they are.”

“Ah.” Luigi's smile widened. “So you're letting your future bride handle the details. Smart man. The happier she is, the happier you'll be.”

Luke met Giselle's gaze. “My thoughts exactly.” Her emerald eyes were filled with laughter, and he sure did enjoy when that happened. Maybe it was worth getting a little wet.

Representatives from the casino met them at the dock. One of them recognized Luke and insisted on giving them gambling tokens, coupons for free drinks, and a complimentary dinner for two. Luke could tell they all were relieved as hell that he wasn't going to make a problem for them over a water balloon.

Eventually they left and he turned to Giselle. “Want to drink and gamble?”

She smiled at him. “Not particularly. You handled that well, though.”

“Apparently I'm getting used to dripping.”

“You have to admit that song was hysterical.”

He gazed at her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. Damn, but she was a pretty woman. Good company, too. “I could tell you thought so. I'm surprised the boat didn't start rocking, the way you were trying to keep from cracking up.”

“He was so sincere that I didn't want him to know I was laughing.”

“So tell me, does your brother repeat his tricks or does he tend to move on to new ones each time?”