one of the younger of the children started sneezing Cara straightened her spine and strolled towards the young limousine driver. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said airily. ‘I spotted an old friend.’
‘Ma’am?’
‘You are waiting for me, aren’t you?’
‘Ah, no, ma’am. I’m waiting for a Mr Kelly.’
Cara tilted her head and gave him a smile she’d been told made grown men forget their own names. ‘It was supposed to be Ms Kelly, but never mind. No harm done.’
‘And you’re … Ms Kelly?’
‘No, I’m not.’ Cara smiled patiently. ‘I’m travelling incognito. I have to do that after, well, you know … the video clip last year.’
The young driver blushed as Cara had expected he would and looked flustered. ‘Oh, I don’t—’
She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Please, I’d rather not talk about it. Now, I hope you don’t mind but I promised to give my friends a lift. It’s too cold for them to wait for a taxi.’
‘No, no.’ He scampered to open the passenger door for her. ‘Not at all, Miss Chats—I mean, Ms Kelly.’
Feeling just the teensiest bit guilty and determined to ignore it, Cara beckoned to the woman and her children. ‘It seems the limo was waiting for me after all. Would you like a lift?’
‘Oh, wow. Really?’
‘Of course, but … we should hurry.’
The guilty feeling persisted for quite a way to the hotel and probably if she could relive that moment she might act differently, but it was too late now and her awed passengers had been so relieved and grateful it had been worth it.
Thankfully she’d never have to see Mr Kelly again, but maybe she’d try and find out where he was staying and send him an anonymous bottle of champagne to thank him for the ride.
She stifled an impish grin at the thought. He was really going to be livid when he realised that his car had been commandeered by someone else. In a way, she almost wished she was able to see his face.
She hoped it turned purple.
AIDAN SAW A flash of pink hair and one long slim leg before the limousine pulled away from the kerb, its tail-lights blinking in the gloomy night.
Amazing. The woman he had thought a cheap tourist at best could afford a limousine. Or perhaps she’d had a rich lover waiting outside.
With legs like hers it was probably the more likely scenario. Long and golden brown. He had no doubt they’d be smooth to the touch and his hand would have no trouble sliding all the way up to those tiny shorts. He imagined her breathless little gasp as he slid one finger inside the leg of those shorts and teased— What the …?
He pulled himself up short as he realised he was turning himself on.
Rubbing at the space between his eyes he shook his head. He must be going mad to fantasise about a woman like that.
A woman who wore clothes that revealed more than they hid. Well, okay, her purple blouse had been loose and only hinted at the small, high breasts beneath, but it had been designed to make a man think about exactly what they would look like underneath. And those shoes? If they hadn’t been created with sex in mind, he didn’t know what was.
Oh, she had been advertising, all right, and although his body had perked up with interest at her wares he’d had no intention of taking the bait. He was in Vegas for one night and one purpose and it had nothing to do with bedding a woman.
He buttoned his jacket against the cold and glanced around for his limousine. His HR manager had assured him that it would be waiting at the kerb as soon as he exited the main terminal and he was a man who knew how to do his job.
Noticing a white sign on the damp pavement he walked closer and saw that it had his name printed on it.
His gaze narrowed. Why would a piece of cardboard with—Son of a … She’d stolen his limousine!
Aidan stared at the section of road the large car had long disappeared down and knew his mouth was hanging open.
He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his emails to get to the one that would hold the information about which car company his HR manager had used. Unfortunately he already had over one hundred new emails and he didn’t have the patience to find it.
Gritting his teeth and silently imagining every way he could slowly dismember the lanky pink-haired waif he would hunt down as soon as he’d completed his business in Vegas, he raised his eyes to the darkening sky.
There were too many grey clouds for him to locate the moon but he was sure if he could it would be full. Usually, he wasn’t a superstitious person but how else to explain a day that had started out great and gone downhill at a rate of knots. First his PA had quit, claiming he was too hard a taskmaster. Then his trip to Sydney airport had been plagued by an impromptu demonstration against the live export of animals—a worthy cause he might have contributed coin to had they not held him up for so long—only to arrive at the airport to find his plane had mechanical issues and had been grounded. The only available flight out of Sydney for Vegas had one seat available.
And it hadn’t been first class.
Not that he was a snob. Far from it. He’d grown up in a low- to middle-class home and didn’t start travelling first class until he had turned his father’s business around in his early twenties.
No, it wasn’t coach per se that had bothered him but being squashed into a seat his tall frame didn’t easily accommodate and trying to work during what should have been a sixteen-hour flight while others slept or watched movies. Then there had been the small child who kept poking its fingers through the back of the seat and dislodging his paperwork on the tiny tray they called a table.
He sighed wearily. His currently dishevelled state wasn’t exactly the way he had planned to greet his nemesis, Martin Ellery, but okay, he’d make it work. A part of him had been considering some sort of revenge against this man for fourteen years and it had become all-consuming twelve months ago when his father had passed away.
Tonight it would happen, and no matter how many obstacles got in his way Aidan wouldn’t countenance failure. Had, in fact, never failed at anything in his life. And he couldn’t fail at this because he had promised his father on his deathbed that he would get back at the man who had ruined his life. And a promise was a promise. Something meant to be honoured.
Unfortunately the Chatsfield casino house rules were very specific on this night that would pit some of the best and wealthiest gamblers against one another. If you missed the start of play you couldn’t join the game.
He checked his watch and his agitation grew.
Just when he was contemplating the possibility of hiring a helicopter a cavalcade of taxis came into view and the line of weary commuters cheered.
A
