a wave, Hunter stepped onto the escalator.
Taking Kristy on a date. Of all the crazy, lame-ass plans. Did Hunter think he could dazzle her with his good looks and charm and make her forget all about Cleveland’s billion-dollar offer?
Kristy didn’t want a relationship. She wanted a sugar daddy. She wanted a besotted rich old man who would indulge her every whim.
Jack stilled.
Wait a minute.
What was he thinking?
Kristy didn’t want a besotted, rich old man. She simply wanted a besotted rich man. She’d probably take a young one just as quickly. In fact, she might prefer a young one.
He stole a sidelong glance to where she was cooing at Dee Dee.
They were stuck together in Vegas. The land of glitz and glamour and fantasy. Where better to fall head over heels for a rich young man? Where better to have a rich young man fall head over heels for you?
And Jack was a rich young man—at least he was comparatively young. When you put him up against Cleveland.
Cleveland. What better way to make sure his family’s reputation and fortune didn’t take another hit, he’d get Kristy to marry him instead. And keep their money out of her hands.
Of course, he’d have to work fast.
Simon would lie for him about the jet repair, buy him tonight, maybe part of tomorrow. But eventually Kristy would get tired of waiting. She’d bite the bullet and buy a ticket on a commercial airline.
Until then, however …
He offered his arm and gave her a genuine smile. “Ever tried the tasting menu at Le Cirque?”
She shook her head, hesitating then taking his arm.
“Then you’re in for a treat. Come on.” He gently urged her forward. “Let’s go find ourselves a really flashy limo.”
FORTUNATELY, since Jack ordered the tasting menu, Kristy didn’t get a chance to look at it. If she had, she suspected the prices would have given her a heart attack. Everything about Le Cirque reeked of wealth and privilege.
The tables were covered in white linen, well-spaced, with comfortable, padded chairs. The service was impeccable, and the decor spectacular. Bold burgundy carpets covered the floor, while padded, striped chairs surrounded the tables and spotlights shone on recessed circus murals.
They started almost immediately with chilled cocktails, then she savored course after course of exotic delicacies complemented by fine merlots and chardonnays.
Afterward, Jack didn’t even glance at the bill before handing over his platinum card.
His cell phone rang.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for his inside breast pocket.
Kristy shook her head. “Don’t worry about me.” She settled into the overstuffed chair, sighing as she gazed around the softly glowing room. The ceiling was draped with bright silk—yellow and orange and ivory fluttering like a tent dome around a central chandelier. It was dark outside, and the dancing lights of the fountains beyond the windows added to the intimacy of the restaurant.
“What time?” Jack asked into the phone.
Kristy took another sip from her wineglass, letting the tart, woodsy flavor ease over her tongue, as the room’s ambiance seeped in and relaxed her.
“If that’s the best you can do,” he said, catching Kristy’s gaze and giving her a smile that warmed her blood. “I understand. Okay.”
He flipped the phone shut.
“Everything okay?” she asked, truly not caring for the moment. As long as nobody had gone bankrupt or died, she was going to enjoy her stolen evening with a handsome, intelligent and interesting man.
Things like this simply didn’t happen to women like Kristy. Her last dinner out had been the bistro down the block. She and her date had split the bill. It hadn’t been expensive. But watching him calculate the charges, add the tip and count out change had definitely taken any romance out of the evening.
“Simon’s waiting for parts,” said Jack.
Well, that didn’t sound too dire. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re stuck here for the night.”
Okay. That burst Kristy’s little bubble. Cash-flow alert. She’d planned on finding a small family-style motel outside of L.A. Her travel budget didn’t include Bellagio rates. Not even for one night.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Jack.
“About what?”
He reached for her hand, stroking his tapered fingers over her knuckles. “Whatever it is that made you frown. Don’t worry about it.”
“I have to worry about it.”
“Says who?”
“My accountant and my credit card company.”
He grinned. “Oh, that. Don’t worry. I won’t let you go bankrupt before morning.”
She frowned at him. “Dinner was great, but you’re not paying for my hotel room.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have self-respect.”
“You’re my guest.”
“I’m your fellow strandee.”
“It was my plane.”
“And you let me ride on it for free.”
Jack sighed, and she could feel him regrouping.
He opened his mouth.
“No,” she jumped in.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.” He got to his feet. “Come on. I’m going to show you something fun.”
“You keep your platinum card right where it is.”
He grinned, his eyes glowing in the candlelight. “Cross my heart.”
She nodded. “Okay. That’s better.” She bunched her linen napkin on the table and rose with him. “So, what is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s a surprise. It won’t hurt a bit. But that’s all I’m telling you.”
“Will it be embarrassing?”
“Not in the least.”
“Will
