an agitated doorman as to why they were there and several small New York dogs barking in their direction.
‘And you?’ Agnetha had asked breezily, the combination of happiness, a little jet lag and her second bourbon and Coke making her feel both chilled and giddy at the same time.
The other guy was much more her type. Taller. More casually dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Brown hair cut so short she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been in the armed forces. ‘Construction. Family business,’ he said. So the biceps and the wide, muscular shoulders that shaped and stretched the white cotton fabric hadn’t come from a gym.
That night, they’d chatted for a couple of hours, then wandered down to Sunset, where they’d let the guys take them to a couple of bars, then on to a club. At every one of them, Zac and Aaron seemed to know someone on the door or behind the bar, and Agnetha loved the party atmosphere. This is what she lived for. She slogged her heart out for weeks and months on temporary catering jobs and in the family café back in Glasgow, working day and night, so she could escape to fabulous places and live wild and free for weeks at a time. Thankfully, her parents were understanding of her wanderlust and positively encouraged it, keeping her job open every time. It was an unconventional way to live, but she loved it, especially when her childhood friend, Celeste, who’d moved to London a couple of years ago, could get time off from her bar and part-time modelling work to join her. That’s when the really wild stuff tended to happen. Like checking out of their hotel and moving into Zac and Aaron’s West Hollywood apartment after their first week there. Like postponing their return home three times now, because they were making the money they saved on hotel bills last as long as possible. Like waking up naked in Vegas on the morning of her birthday with an utterly captivating man who was clearly intent on doing all kinds of blissful things to her. Maybe the sights of Vegas could wait.
The thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. Aaron grabbed a towel that he’d dropped on the floor after his shower last night and wrapped it around his waist. Agnetha pulled the sheet up to her neck and enjoyed the view. Every muscle in his back rippled as he walked. There was a sight she’d never get sick of looking at and one that was going to be tough to say goodbye to, but she had to go. The money was now running out and so was the time on their tourist visa.
The wheels of the room service trolley clanked quietly as it was trundled into the room by an impeccably uniformed waiter.
Aaron tipped the waiter, then lifted the lids of the two silver cloches on the table. Pancakes. Bacon. Maple syrup. Strawberries. With orange juice and coffee to wash it all down.
Tucking the sheet around her body like a sarong, Agnetha got up and padded over to the dining area at the window, watching as Aaron transferred the food from the trolley to the small round table. She poured two coffees from a tall silver pot, then two glasses of orange juice.
For the first few moments, they sat in comfortable silence. Agnetha, knees pulled up in front of her, nursing her coffee with both hands, stared out of the window.
Aaron tossed up a strawberry and caught it in his mouth. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking that this is so far away from my normal life that it all feels completely unreal,’ she answered honestly.
‘What would you be doing at home right now?’ he asked, genuinely curious.
She’d already told him the bones of her life in Glasgow. Lovely mum and dad. Only child. Lived above the West End café in Hyndland that her grandparents had passed down to her parents. Went to catering school. Became a qualified pastry chef. Now worked in the café, as well as for a temping agency, taking short-term catering and cooking jobs because she wanted the flexibility to travel and enjoy life.
‘Depends, if I had a temp job. If so, I’d be there already, prepping the food for the day. If not, then I’d have opened up the café with my dad, and I’d be up to my elbows in bread dough and cake mix.’
‘Is it wrong that I find that mental image completely sexy?’
Agnetha’s chuckle was low and throaty. ‘Completely wrong. I refuse to associate with a man who gets turned on by carrot cake.’
‘It’s not the carrot cake,’ he answered, his eyes locked on hers, his smile still there.
‘Ginger sponge?’ she asked innocently.
God, she was rubbish at sexy. She much preferred funny. Thankfully, Aaron seemed to feel the same. She was going to miss this guy more than she wanted to think about right now.
‘Yep, definitely the ginger sponge.’ He leaned over, his hand curving around the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek, as he pulled her towards him and kissed her slowly, sexily… ‘I think we’re going to have to hold off going out for a little while longer,’ he murmured.
‘I think you’re right.’ There was no tourist spot in Vegas that would feel better than this.
His other hand was in her hair now, his tongue probing hers and she was just about to slip over on to his knee when there was another knock on the door.
‘Ignore it,’ she whispered, still kissing him.
‘I’m going to,’ he replied, his fingertips working their way down her neck, across her collarbone, to her…
Another bang on the bloody door. Louder this time. Insistent.
It was enough to make Agnetha break the lip lock and grin. ‘That’s one stroppy housekeeper. We’d better answer before they storm in.’
‘It’s not housekeeping. I put the “Do Not Disturb” on.’
‘Then what else have you organised? A brass band? Personal shoppers? The Chippendales?’
Aaron shook his head, his laughter revealing his slightly crooked but pearly white smile. ‘Nope. Not setting myself up for that kind of competition.’ He rose, then paused. Lifted her chin. ‘I meant it, you know. I really don’t want you to leave.’
Agnetha’s stomach swirled as the realisation dawned. She didn’t want to leave either. Right from that first night, when they’d ended up sitting in a layby off Mulholland at dawn, watching the sunrise, she’d known this was different from the holiday flings she’d had before. There had been romances in Paris. In New York. In Thailand. On a skiing trip to Austria. But much as she fell hard and fast and enjoyed every moment of them, she always knew she wanted to leave them in the magical place they belonged and not drag them back into the real world. But this time…
Aaron barely had the door open a few inches when Celeste barged through, her gleaming mane of Cindy Crawford dark waves falling down to cover the top of her silver bikini, the rest of her tanned torso tucked into a tiny pair of Daisy Duke denim shorts.
‘Have you seen Zac this morning?’ she blurted, brittle fury clipping every word.
Agnetha and Aaron glanced at each other, then back at the room’s source of irritated energy.
Aaron answered for both of them. ‘No. Isn’t he with you?’
Celeste’s hands were on her hips now. ‘Eh, that would be a definite no. The bastard got a phone call in the middle of the night, snuck out and hasn’t come back yet. Honestly, I could kill him. How rude is that?’ Without waiting for an answer, she plonked down on the chair vacated by Aaron and picked
