Hell on Heels (Hotel Rodeo #1)(42)

“It’s not like that between us now, is it, Ms. Brandt?” He pinned her with a meaningful stare. “We’re only business associates, right? So there’s nothing to worry about, but if you feel uncomfortable with the arrangement, you’ll have a built-in chaperone in Rosa.”

“Rosa won’t be there.”

“What do you mean? She’s staying at my place, remember? I took her there last night. I was on my way back to The Oasis to pick her up when I got the call from Gus.”

“Rosa won’t be going back with you, Ty. Tom wants her to remain with him. I arranged it with the director today, and Rosa agreed. She’ll be staying at The Oasis now.”

He arched a brow. “Well, that makes the situation all the more interesting now, doesn’t it?”

Monica jutted her chin. “Then I’ll make it a whole lot less interesting. I’m checking back into the Skylofts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “My place is comfortable, and it’s free. What’s the real problem, Monica? Afraid you’ll succumb to temptation again?”

“Hardly. I got the sexual frustration out of my system last night. I shouldn’t need another fix for weeks.”

“Weeks, eh? I was better than I thought.”

“Don’t get too pumped up about it,” she rebutted. “I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but you were really nothing more than a means to an end, Ty. Any port in a storm, right?”

“That so?” The gleam in his eye told her he didn’t believe a word. “We’ll just see about that, won’t we? Now, c’mon.” He snatched the carton out of her hands. “Let’s get out of here and get some real food.”



Ty didn’t know what possessed him to offer her dinner when he’d sworn off Monica Brandt. Maybe he couldn’t stand the guilt of seeing her eating cold noodles out of a takeout carton while sitting on a luggage trolley. It was a shitty thing to lock her out like he had without notice. She deserved better than what he’d dished out to her.

Instead of hitting a burger joint and heading west out of town to his place, as he’d originally intended, he drove her up The Strip, pointing out all the best sights—the Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas, Caesar’s, the dancing fountains of the Bellagio—all the while trying to defrost her, but she remained beside him in a stony, lip-locked silence.

Shit. This wasn’t any good at all. They needed to get back on level ground . . . or maybe not. Suddenly inspired, he asked, “How are you with heights?”

“Heights?” she repeated blankly.

“Yeah, you aren’t acrophobic, are you?”

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, I love rock climbing and zip lining.”

Her remark took him aback. “You?”

“Yes, me. There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Ty.”

“There’s an easy remedy for that, you know.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s called conversation,” he quipped, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “You should try it sometime.”

Her mouth twitched. A small triumph, but at least he’d cracked the outer layer. It was enough encouragement to move forward with his idea. He whipped out his phone. She watched him with a scowl as he made the call.

“John? Hey! It’s Ty Morgan. I need a table for two. Can you squeeze me in? I’m ten minutes out. Yeah? Great. Thanks, buddy. I owe you big.” He stashed the phone and turned off Las Vegas Boulevard at the Stratosphere.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “I like zip lining, Ty. I never said anything about jumping off eight-hundred-foot skyscrapers.”

“The amusement rides are not why I brought you here, but if you change your mind after dinner, knock yourself out.”

“Dinner? Oh.”

“Yeah, this place has a revolving restaurant that offers the second-best view in the whole Las Vegas Valley.”

“Only the second best? Don’t I rate high enough to get the best?”

“The place with the very best view is a closely guarded secret, Ms. Brandt, but if you can stay on your good behavior tonight, maybe I’ll show you that one, too.”

“Friends in high places?”

“A few,” he remarked. “Or at least in the right places. I generally try to cultivate more friends than enemies.”

“I know someone who could take a few lessons from that playbook,” Monica said dryly.

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“My ex-fiancé,” she replied. “He has a great deal of influence in New York, but mostly because people are afraid of him.”

“We have plenty of that kind out here, too. The city was built by the Mob.” He slanted another sidelong glance at her. “I find it hard to believe you were involved with someone like that.”

“He’s not a mobster! Evan’s more of a corporate raider type.”

“Is there really much difference?” Ty grinned back at her as he put the truck in PARK. “I think you’re splitting hairs.” He actually got a full blown laugh out of her that time. Score another for Ty.

“Maybe so.” Her smile suddenly faded, replaced by a frown.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.