Hell on Heels (Hotel Rodeo #1)(30)

“Yes, ma’am. He also used to ride ‘em. Matter of fact, back then Ty was the only one who could ever give Zac a run for his money. It was only after Ty switched from riding to fighting that Zac became the regional champ.”

“Really? So he and your brother both rode bulls for a living?”

“They were traveling buddies for about five years. Now Zac’s a contender for the world championships. Who knows how far Ty coulda gone if he’d stuck with it.”

“Why didn’t he?” she couldn’t help asking.

“No one really knows. One day he just up and left. Next, we all heard he was out here running the hotel. Ty doesn’t ever talk about it.” He shrugged.

“Tell you what, cowboy,” she laid a hand on his starched sleeve, “why don’t I buy you a drink and you can tell all about it.”

Kade’s grin stretched even broader; then with far too much familiarity, he placed a hand on the small of her back. “It’d be my pleasure, pretty lady.”



After a couple of hours, more than a few drinks, and a number of attempts to politely rebuff her cowboy Casanova, Monica finally excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. When she was certain the coast was clear, she slipped out of the saloon and up to her room. Sliding the key card into the door, she held her breath as it opened into the owner’s suite.

She didn’t know exactly what she’d imagined, but it was a far cry above her expectations. The suite was tastefully furnished and decorated in masculine tones of rust and beige with indigo accents. It appeared to have once been two guest rooms with a wall removed, converting one room into a spacious living area and the other into a bedroom. The two bathrooms had also been combined to form one huge bath featuring an oversized Jacuzzi tub complete with private dressing room.

It wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. She entered on an exhale of relief and kicked off her shoes, determined to soak away all her cares and frustrations in a hot bath. She turned on the tap and slithered out of her dress as the tub filled. She then wandered out to the living room, happily noting the bottle of Calvados chilling in a bucket of ice.

Although she already felt the lightheaded languor of one too many drinks, she poured herself a half glass of the chilled brandy and stared out the window at the colorful mosaic of flashing neon that animated Las Vegas. Although New York was called the city that never sleeps, it appeared that her hometown had nothing on Vegas.

She brought the glass to her lips, thinking there would have been something wicked and decadent about sipping apple brandy while parading around in her lace underwear . . . if she wasn’t by herself. Yet here she was, unattached and alone and feeling more than a little sexual frustration. Hell, she was almost raging with it. She was also lonely.

She hated being alone. All her life she’d been surrounded by people, millions of people, but feelings of isolation always crept in. She felt lost in Vegas. Completely out of her element. She still couldn’t fathom how everything had changed. She’d worked so damned hard to carve her own path in life, only to have it all turn upside down.

Only weeks ago, she’d believed her future was safe, secure, and wrapped in a neat bow. She had a dream job and one of New York’s most sought-after bachelors as her fiancé. Evan. He was the best her world had to offer—handsome, rich, powerful, and successful. They’d shared all the same goals for success, but he hadn’t made her laugh. He hadn’t really made her happy. He hadn’t filled the void.

Was he seeing someone else by now? Did she care? No, she didn’t. Not really. Just as she’d hoped, time and distance had provided perspective.

She couldn’t regret walking out. They’d been engaged for six whole months, yet he hardly even registered in her thoughts anymore. Maybe he had at first, but not now. Ty, on the other hand, almost never seemed to leave them. He was everything Evan wasn’t, so why was she so damned fixated on the cowboy?

The truth struck her hard. It was pure. Simple. Undeniable. She wanted Ty.

She startled at a sound outside her door. She looked to the deadbolt. Shit! She’d forgotten to latch it! She exhaled slowly, telling herself it was just some drunk who’d forgotten his room number. Her heart raced as the door clicked open. She sucked in a gasp, ready to let loose a scream, when recognition muted it in her throat.

“Ty?” She rose suddenly, sloshing her drink down her chest. It was icy cold and sticky. She shivered.

“Monica?” His brows met in a frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same thing.”

“I just got in from Oklahoma,” he drawled.

Monica realized all too late that she faced him in her undies, but the drinks made her bold. Maybe even defiant. Let him look. Hand on hip, she addressed him accusingly, “You said you weren’t returning until tomorrow night.”

“Changed my mind. Rosa was anxious to see Tom, so we kept going.”

“Where is Rosa now?”

“Staying at my place. Told her I’d pick her up first thing in the morning.”

“Oh.” Her brows knitted. “This is damned awkward. You could have told me about your change in plans.”

“I’m not used to reporting to anyone,” he replied mildly and doffed his hat.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Monica said. “You’re leaving.”