Two To Wrangle (Hotel Rodeo #2)(40)

“Holy shit, Mon.” Evan’s black gaze traveled slowly up and down. “I had no idea you had it in you. It was worth the five-hour flight just to look at you. What’s the occasion?”

“I have an . . . engagement . . . at ten.”

His gaze narrowed. “What kind of engagement?”

“It’s hotel business, Evan, if you really must know, and I don’t have time right now.”

“C’mon, Mon. I flew all the way out here to talk to you. Did you really think I’d let you blow me off without discussing this?”

“But I thought we’d settled everything this afternoon—”

“This afternoon was bullshit, Monica. Are you at least going to invite me in, or are we really going to have this conversation in the hallway?”

“Of course,” she stepped back. “So sorry; you just shocked me.”

He gave her his slow, ruthless, boardroom smile. “Shock and awe are my signature tactics, Monica. You should know that by now. Since I’ve already shocked you tonight, I think it’s time to try for some awe.”

She arched a brow, undecided if she was more annoyed or amused. “Oh? And just how do you propose to do that?”

“Proposals? Engagements?” he cocked his head. “Is there something on your mind, Monica?”

“Those were poor word choices, not Freudian slips, I assure you, Evan.”

“I’m not sure about anything anymore when it comes to you, Mon. I admit I took you for granted before, but that’s all in the past. If you were looking to shake me up, you’ve done it. You have my full and undivided attention.”

“That’s not what this is about, Evan. My leaving you was never a ploy to get your attention. I came here to take care of my father. You could have supported that decision but chose to be a total * about it. That’s why I didn’t come back.”

“I admitted I was a dick and apologized. What more do I need to do to show you I really want you back? My coming out here tonight has nothing to do with the hotel and everything to do with us.” His gaze was questioning and his manner less self-assured.

Was he for real this time? It would seem so.

“It’s too late, Evan. I don’t feel the same way about anything anymore.”

“So it’s not really me, it’s you?” He gave a dry laugh. “Can’t say I’ve ever been on the receiving end of that line before.”

“Rich, handsome, intelligent, successful, single alpha male? I don’t imagine you have.” Monica laughed. “Want a drink, Evan? I have Calvados, and I think there might be half a bottle of Jim Beam lying around.”

“Sure, Mon. I’ll take a drink.”

The moment of humor had cut the tension, but she still felt his eyes on her ass as she poured him a bourbon. He took his glass and dropped onto the sofa, patting the cushion. Painfully aware of her abbreviated hemline, she eased down beside him.

“I like this look, Monica. It really turns me on. Why didn’t you ever do this before?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t me.”

“Are you saying this is the new you? If so, I’d be happy to let you try out the new me.”

“New, Evan? I’m having trouble buying that one.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He ran a finger lightly down her arm. “Doesn’t that prove I care?”

“It proves you don’t like to lose. That’s not new. I already knew that about you.”

“What didn’t work for you?” he asked. “Did I not f*ck you enough? Is that it?”

“No, that’s not it. I wasn’t into it any more or any less than you were. Maybe that was the problem. We didn’t have . . .”

Evan rolled his eyes with a groan. “Don’t tell me you were about to spout off some schmaltz about fireworks.”

“Yes, Evan,” she replied with a sad smile. “I was going to say fireworks.”

“That’s what you really want, Monica?” He set his glass down on the side table and turned to face her. “Why didn’t you ever say so?”

“Because it doesn’t work that way. Chemistry like that just . . . happens.”

He moved in closer, his face only inches away. She started to pull back, but he held her shoulders. “Oh yeah? Well, I think it’s happening right now.”





Ty slid his key card into the lock of the owner’s suite before it even occurred to him to knock. He almost closed the door again but shook off the idea. He’d told her ten. Who else would she be expecting?

“Monica? You ready?” Ty called out as he entered the living area—and stopped dead in his boots. Willing himself to breathe normally, he took in the suggestive scene.

“Ty?” Monica rose with a guilty look, knocking over her drink and spilling it on the guy beside her. Ty didn’t need a formal introduction to know it was Evan. Although they’d seen each other once or twice in passing, they’d never actually met.

“Omigod, Evan! I’m so sorry,” she said. “Can I get you a towel?”

“No need.” Evan pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket. He silently sized Ty up, even as he wiped himself off. Ty returned the favor but had the advantage of being on his feet and not wiping a spilled drink from his lap. What kind of * carried a monogrammed hankie?