The hotel manager threw open the do

The hotel manager threw open the double doors to our suite and Cary gave a long, low whistle.

“Hell yeah,” he said, hustling me into the room with a hand on my elbow. “Look at the size of this place. You could do cartwheels in here.”

He was right, but I’d have to wait until the morning to prove it. My legs were still shaky from my induction into the Mile-High Club.

Directly in front of us was a dazzling view of the Vegas Strip at night. The windows were floor to ceiling, wrapping around a corner that was filled with a piano.

“Why are there always pianos in high-roller suites?” Cary asked, flipping up the cover and tapping out a quick tune on the keys.

I shrugged and looked toward the manager, but she’d already moved off, her stilettos moving silently over the thick white carpet. The suite was decorated in what I’d call fifties Hollywood chic. The double-sided fireplace was faced with rough gray stone and decorated with a piece of art that resembled a hubcap with spacey spokes protruding from the center. The sofas were seafoam green with wooden legs as slender as the manager’s heels. Everything had a retro vibe that was at once glamorous and inviting.

It was way too much. I’d expected a nice room, but not the presidential suite. I was about to refuse it when Cary gifted me with a big grin and two thumbs up. Having no willpower to refuse his joy, I gave in and hoped we weren’t putting Gideon out of a more profitable reservation.

“Still want a cheeseburger?” I asked him, reaching for the room service menu on the console table behind the sofa.

“And a beer. Make that two.”

Cary followed the manager into a bedroom on the left side of the living area, and I picked up the vintage rotary phone to place our order.

Thirty minutes later, I was fresh from a quick shower and dressed in my pajamas, eating chicken Alfredo cross-legged on the area rug. Cary was plowing through his burger and looking at me with happy eyes from his position on the opposite side of the coffee table.

“You never eat a massive pile of carbs this late,” he noted between bites.

“My period’s coming.”

“I’m sure the workout you got on the way here helped, too.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How would you know? You were passed out.”

“Deductive reasoning, baby girl. When I went to sleep, you looked irritated. When I woke up, you looked like you’d just smoked a fat joint.”

“How did Gideon look?”

“He looked the same—tight-assed and hot as hell.”

I stabbed my fork into my noodles. “That’s not fair.”

“Who cares?” He gestured around us. “Look how he puts you up.”

“I don’t need a sugar daddy, Cary.”

He munched on a French fry. “Have you thought any more about what you do need? You’ve got his time, his rockin’ bod, and access to everything he owns. That’s not bad.”

“No,” I agreed, twirling my fork. I knew from my mom’s many marriages to powerful men that getting their time was the most important thing of all, because for them, it was truly the most valuable thing in their lives. “It’s not bad. It’s just not enough.”

* * *

 
“This is the life,” Cary pronounced, while lying like a god on a lounger by the pool. He wore pale green trunks and dark shades and caused an unusually large volume of women to walk on our side of the pool. “The only thing missing is a mojito. Gotta have alcohol to celebrate.”

My mouth curved. I was sunbathing on the lounger beside him, enjoying the dry heat and occasional splashes of water. Celebrating was habitual for Cary, something I’d always considered quite charming. “What are we celebrating?”

“Summer.”

“Okay, then.” I sat up and slid my legs off the lounger, tying my sarong around my hips before I stood. My hair was still damp from an earlier dip in the pool and pinned atop my head with a lobster clip. The scorching sun felt good on my skin, a sensual kiss that was nearly enough to make me less self-conscious about the water I was retaining—thanks to my period starting.

I headed over to the pool bar, my gaze raking the other loungers and cabanas through the purple tint of my sunglasses. The area was packed with guests, many of whom were attractive enough to warrant second and third looks. One couple in particular caught my eye, because they reminded me of myself and Gideon. The blonde lay on her stomach, her torso propped up on her arms and her legs kicking playfully. Her very yummy dark-haired man stretched out on the chair beside her, his head propped on one hand while the fingers of the other hand stroked up and down her spine.

She caught me staring and her smile instantly faded. I couldn’t see her eyes behind her Jackie O shades, but I knew she was glaring at me. With a smile, I looked away, knowing just how she felt about finding another woman checking out her man.

I found an empty space at the bar and gestured at the bartender to let him know I was ready to order when he was. Misters attached to the ceiling cooled my skin and lured me to slide onto a suddenly vacated bar stool while I waited.

“What are you drinking?”

Turning my head, I looked at the man who’d talked to me. “Nothing yet, but I’m considering a mojito.”

“Let me buy you one.” He smiled, revealing perfectly white but slightly crooked teeth. He extended his hand to me, a movement that brought my attention to his nicely defined arms. “Daniel.”

I placed my hand in his. “Eva. Nice to meet you.”

He crossed his arms on the bar and leaned over it. “What brings you to Vegas? Business or pleasure?”

“R and R. You?” Daniel had an interesting tattoo written in a foreign language on his right biceps, and I admired it. He wasn’t traditionally good-looking, but he had confidence and poise, two things I found more attractive in a man than just his physical features.

“Work.”

I shot a look at his swimming trunks. “I’ve got the wrong job.”

“I sell—”

“Excuse me.”

We both turned to face the woman who had intruded on our conversation. She was a compact brunette dressed in a dark polo shirt embroidered with both her name—Sheila—and Cross Towers and Casino. The earpiece in her ear and the utility belt around her waist gave her away as security.

“Miss Tramell.” She greeted me with a nod.

My brows rose. “Yes?”

“There’s a server who can take your order by your cabana.”

“Cool, thanks. But I don’t mind waiting here.”

When I didn’t move, Sheila turned her attention to Daniel. “If you’ll move to the other end of the bar, sir, the bartender will see that your next drinks are on the house.”

He gave a cursory nod, then smiled winningly at me. “I’m good here, too, thanks.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”

“What?” His smile turned into a scowl. “Why?”

I blinked at Sheila as realization sank in. Gideon had me under watch. And he thought he could control what I did from a distance.

Sheila returned my look, her face impassive. “I’ll escort you back to your cabana, Miss Tramell.”

For a minute, I considered making her day hell, maybe grabbing Daniel and kissing him senseless just to send a message to my overbearing boyfriend, but I managed to restrain my temper. She was only doing what she was paid to do. It was her boss who needed the kick in the ass.

“Sorry, Daniel,” I said, flushing with embarrassment. I felt like a scolded kid and that really irked me. “It was nice meeting you.”

He shrugged. “If you change your mind . . .”

I felt Sheila’s gaze on my back as I preceded her to my lounger. Abruptly, I faced her. “So, is getting hit on the only time you’re instructed to step in? Or do you have a list of situations?”

She hesitated a moment, then sighed. I could only imagine what she must think of me, the pretty blond piece of ass who couldn’t be trusted to be out mingling in public. “There’s a list.”

“Of course there is.” Gideon wouldn’t leave anything to chance. I wondered when he’d worked on the list, if he’d compiled it just since I mentioned Vegas or if he’d had it on hand. Maybe it was a list he had formed while he was with other women. Maybe he’d written it for Corinne.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I complained to Cary when she’d stepped a discreet distance away, as if that action alone would be enough to make me forget she was hovering. “I’ve got a babysitter.”

“What?”

I told him what happened and watched his jaw tighten.

“That’s crazy, Eva,” he snapped.

“No shit. And I’m not putting up with it. He’s got to learn that relationships don’t work that way. And after all the crap he gave me about trust.” I collapsed on my lounger. “How much does he trust me, if he’s got to have someone shadowing me to chase strangers away?”

“I’m not down with this, Eva.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his chair. “This isn’t okay.”

“You think I don’t know that? And what’s with her being a woman? Nothing against my gender and tough jobs. I’m just wondering if he expects her to follow me into ladies’ rooms or just doesn’t trust a guy to watch me.”

“Are you serious? Why the hell are you sunbathing instead of chewing him a new one?”

The idea I’d been toying with fully formed in my mind. “I’m plotting.”

“Oh?” His mouth curved in a wicked grin. “Do tell.”

I picked my smartphone up from the little mosaic-topped table between us and scrolled through my contacts until I found Benjamin Clancy—my stepfather’s personal bodyguard.

“Hey, Clancy. It’s Eva,” I greeted him when he answered after the first ring.

Cary’s eyes widened behind his shades. “Ooh . . .”

Pushing to my feet, I mouthed, I’m going upstairs.

He nodded. “Everything’s fine,” I said, in answer to Clancy’s query. I waited until I’d ducked indoors and knew Sheila was several paces behind me and still outside. “Listen, I have a favor to ask you.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Manajer hotel melemparkan membuka pintu ganda untuk suite kami dan Cary memberikan peluit panjang, rendah."Hell ya," katanya, bergegas saya ke ruangan dengan tangan pada siku. "Lihatlah ukuran tempat ini. Anda bisa melakukan cartwheels di sini."Dia benar, tapi saya akan harus menunggu sampai pagi hari untuk membuktikannya. Kaki saya adalah masih gemetar dari induksi saya ke klub mil-tinggi.Langsung di depan kami adalah pemandangan yang mempesona dari Vegas Strip pada malam hari. Jendela sedang lantai ke langit-langit, membungkus sekitar sudut yang dipenuhi dengan piano."Mengapa ada selalu piano di Suite tinggi rol?" Cary bertanya, membalik atas dan menekan keluar cepat lagu pada tombol.Aku mengangkat bahu dan memandang ke arah manajer, tapi dia sudah pindah, stiletto nya bergerak diam-diam di atas karpet putih tebal. Suite didekorasi dalam apa yang saya sebut lima puluhan Hollywood chic. Double sided perapian dihadapkan dengan kasar abu-abu batu dan dihiasi dengan karya seni yang menyerupai hubcap dengan jari-jari lalai yang menonjol dari pusat. Sofa yang seafoam hijau dengan kaki kayu sebagai ramping sebagai manajer tumit. Segala sesuatu memiliki getaran retro yang sekaligus glamor dan mengundang.Itu terlalu banyak. Saya duga bagus, tetapi tidak presidential suite. Aku hendak menolak ketika Cary berbakat saya dengan senyum lebar dan dua jempol. Memiliki tidak ada kemauan untuk menolak kegembiraannya, saya menyerah dan berharap kita tidak memadamkan Gideon memesan lebih menguntungkan."Masih ingin sebuah cheeseburger?" Aku bertanya padanya, meraih menu layanan kamar di atas meja konsol di belakang sofa."Dan bir. Membuat dua."Cary diikuti manajer menjadi kamar tidur di sisi kiri dari ruang tamu, dan aku mengambil rotary telepon vintage untuk menempatkan pesanan.Tiga puluh menit kemudian, aku segar dari shower cepat dan berpakaian piyama, makan ayam Alfredo lesehan pada luas karpet. Cary membajak melalui burger dan menatapku dengan mata bahagia dari posisinya di sisi berlawanan dari meja kopi."Anda tidak pernah makan tumpukan besar karbohidrat terlambat ini," katanya antara gigitan."Periode saya datang.""Saya yakin latihan Anda mendapat di jalan di sini membantu, terlalu."Saya mempersempit mataku kepadanya. "Bagaimana Apakah Anda tahu? Anda ditanggungkan.""Penalaran deduktif, bayi perempuan. Ketika saya pergi tidur, Anda tampak kesal. Ketika aku terbangun, Anda tampak seperti Anda hanya Merokok bersama lemak.""Bagaimana melakukan Gideon melihat?""Dan dia terlihat sama — ketat-berpantat dan panas seperti neraka."Saya ditusuk garpu saya ke mie saya. "Itu tidak adil.""Siapa yang peduli?" Dia memberi isyarat di sekitar kita. "Lihat bagaimana ia menempatkan Anda.""Aku tidak membutuhkan ayah gula, Cary."Ia mengunyah roti goreng Prancis. "Apakah Anda berpikir lagi tentang apa yang Anda butuhkan? Anda punya waktu, rockin ' Direksi, dan akses ke segala sesuatu yang dimilikinya. Itu tidak buruk.""Tidak," Saya setuju, memutar-mutar garpu saya. Saya tahu dari ibuku banyak pernikahan laki-laki yang kuat bahwa mendapatkan waktu mereka adalah yang paling penting dari semua, karena bagi mereka, itu benar-benar hal yang paling berharga dalam hidup mereka. "Hal ini tidak buruk. Hal ini hanya tidak cukup."* * * "Ini adalah hidup," Cary diucapkan, sambil berbaring seperti dewa di kursi santai di tepi kolam renang. Dia memakai batang hijau pucat dan nuansa gelap dan menyebabkan jumlah wanita berjalan di sisi kami kolam luar biasa besar. "Satu-satunya hal yang hilang adalah mojito. Harus memiliki alkohol untuk merayakan."Mulutku melengkung. Saya berjemur di kursi sampingnya, menikmati panas kering dan kadang-kadang percikan air. Merayakan adalah kebiasaan untuk Cary, sesuatu yang saya selalu dianggap cukup menarik. "Apa yang sedang kita merayakan?""Musim panas"."Oke, kemudian." Aku duduk dan meluncur kakiku dari kursi, mengikat saya sarung di sekitar pinggul saya sebelum saya berdiri. Rambut saya adalah masih basah dari sebelumnya berenang di kolam renang dan ditempelkan di atas kepalaku dengan klip lobster. Terik matahari merasa baik pada kulit saya, ciuman sensual yang hampir cukup untuk membuat saya kurang sadar diri tentang air saya adalah mempertahankan — berkat periode saya dimulai.I headed over to the pool bar, my gaze raking the other loungers and cabanas through the purple tint of my sunglasses. The area was packed with guests, many of whom were attractive enough to warrant second and third looks. One couple in particular caught my eye, because they reminded me of myself and Gideon. The blonde lay on her stomach, her torso propped up on her arms and her legs kicking playfully. Her very yummy dark-haired man stretched out on the chair beside her, his head propped on one hand while the fingers of the other hand stroked up and down her spine.She caught me staring and her smile instantly faded. I couldn’t see her eyes behind her Jackie O shades, but I knew she was glaring at me. With a smile, I looked away, knowing just how she felt about finding another woman checking out her man.I found an empty space at the bar and gestured at the bartender to let him know I was ready to order when he was. Misters attached to the ceiling cooled my skin and lured me to slide onto a suddenly vacated bar stool while I waited.“What are you drinking?”Turning my head, I looked at the man who’d talked to me. “Nothing yet, but I’m considering a mojito.”“Let me buy you one.” He smiled, revealing perfectly white but slightly crooked teeth. He extended his hand to me, a movement that brought my attention to his nicely defined arms. “Daniel.”I placed my hand in his. “Eva. Nice to meet you.”He crossed his arms on the bar and leaned over it. “What brings you to Vegas? Business or pleasure?”“R and R. You?” Daniel had an interesting tattoo written in a foreign language on his right biceps, and I admired it. He wasn’t traditionally good-looking, but he had confidence and poise, two things I found more attractive in a man than just his physical features.“Work.”I shot a look at his swimming trunks. “I’ve got the wrong job.”“I sell—”“Excuse me.”We both turned to face the woman who had intruded on our conversation. She was a compact brunette dressed in a dark polo shirt embroidered with both her name—Sheila—and Cross Towers and Casino. The earpiece in her ear and the utility belt around her waist gave her away as security.“Miss Tramell.” She greeted me with a nod.My brows rose. “Yes?”“There’s a server who can take your order by your cabana.”“Cool, thanks. But I don’t mind waiting here.”When I didn’t move, Sheila turned her attention to Daniel. “If you’ll move to the other end of the bar, sir, the bartender will see that your next drinks are on the house.”He gave a cursory nod, then smiled winningly at me. “I’m good here, too, thanks.”“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”“What?” His smile turned into a scowl. “Why?”I blinked at Sheila as realization sank in. Gideon had me under watch. And he thought he could control what I did from a distance.Sheila returned my look, her face impassive. “I’ll escort you back to your cabana, Miss Tramell.”For a minute, I considered making her day hell, maybe grabbing Daniel and kissing him senseless just to send a message to my overbearing boyfriend, but I managed to restrain my temper. She was only doing what she was paid to do. It was her boss who needed the kick in the ass.“Sorry, Daniel,” I said, flushing with embarrassment. I felt like a scolded kid and that really irked me. “It was nice meeting you.”He shrugged. “If you change your mind . . .”I felt Sheila’s gaze on my back as I preceded her to my lounger. Abruptly, I faced her. “So, is getting hit on the only time you’re instructed to step in? Or do you have a list of situations?”She hesitated a moment, then sighed. I could only imagine what she must think of me, the pretty blond piece of ass who couldn’t be trusted to be out mingling in public. “There’s a list.”“Of course there is.” Gideon wouldn’t leave anything to chance. I wondered when he’d worked on the list, if he’d compiled it just since I mentioned Vegas or if he’d had it on hand. Maybe it was a list he had formed while he was with other women. Maybe he’d written it for Corinne.The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.“Un-fucking-believable,” I complained to Cary when she’d stepped a discreet distance away, as if that action alone would be enough to make me forget she was hovering. “I’ve got a babysitter.”“What?”I told him what happened and watched his jaw tighten.“That’s crazy, Eva,” he snapped.“No shit. And I’m not putting up with it. He’s got to learn that relationships don’t work that way. And after all the crap he gave me about trust.” I collapsed on my lounger. “How much does he trust me, if he’s got to have someone shadowing me to chase strangers away?”“I’m not down with this, Eva.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his chair. “This isn’t okay.”“You think I don’t know that? And what’s with her being a woman? Nothing against my gender and tough jobs. I’m just wondering if he expects her to follow me into ladies’ rooms or just doesn’t trust a guy to watch me.”“Are you serious? Why the hell are you sunbathing instead of chewing him a new one?”The idea I’d been toying with fully formed in my mind. “I’m plotting.”“Oh?” His mouth curved in a wicked grin. “Do tell.”I picked my smartphone up from the little mosaic-topped table between us and scrolled through my contacts until I found Benjamin Clancy—my stepfather’s personal bodyguard.“Hey, Clancy. It’s Eva,” I greeted him when he answered after the first ring.Cary’s eyes widened behind his shades. “Ooh . . .”Pushing to my feet, I mouthed, I’m going upstairs.He nodded. “Everything’s fine,” I said, in answer to Clancy’s query. I waited until I’d ducked indoors and knew Sheila was several paces behind me and still outside. “Listen, I have a favor to ask you.”