Sin City Lights (Sin City #1)

Chapter 5

Eve

Adam was here.

And he had her.

Why did she feel such intense relief?

He leaned back slightly and looked down as if he needed visual confirmation that it was really her.

She stood on tiptoe, locked her hands around his neck, and pressed her face into the smoothness of his shirt, burrowing into it. His dark tie felt silky under her cheek. For a beat, she leaned into him, breathing in his essence, and instantly felt safe, as if in his embrace, nothing harmful could ever touch her.

Finally, she arched her back, leaning away to look into his face.

His eyes were twin blue flames. Even in this low light, the blatant desire in them was so intense, she had to break eye contact.

She started to extricate herself from his grasp, but it was obvious that couldn’t happen. He held her like a vise and wasn’t letting go.

“Eve.”

His smooth voice had a dangerous undertone.

“Adam.”

She almost smiled at how their names sounded together, just as she had when she’d learned his name.

But the smile died on her lips when she read his expression. The corners of his mouth were tight. His jaw was granite.

He was clearly upset. And Adam Larssen angry was a formidable sight. “Fancy running into you, literally.”

She unclamped her hands from around his neck, sliding her palms to his shoulders, and felt something unusual. She saw that he was wearing epaulets, with four gold bars on black.

That explained his presence here, but she was still surprised. “You’re a pilot?”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Sometimes.”

He didn’t offer more and still looked so stern, she didn’t dare ask.

“I have a question for you.”

She well knew what it was. She wet her lips. “And what is that?”

“I need to know…”

One of his hands began a slow slide up her back, stopping only when he reached her nape. Splaying his fingers there, he rested them right along her pulse point, his thumb burying in her hair, stroking.

Stroking again. She shivered. “What do you need to know?”

Her heart slammed in her chest, and her breath caught with each inhalation. She wasn’t alone. His breath was coming fast, as well.

“Tell me—”

his fingertips did wild things to her pulse “—why all of my requests to see you were refused.”

Her hands slid down to his upper arms. His biceps were rock-hard.

“You made requests? For me?”

She knew he had. Three, over the past three weeks. To the frustration of her liaison, she had declined them all.

“I did.”

His hand slid higher, fingers threading into her hair as he cradled the back of her head in his large palm. “And each time, I was informed you weren’t available.”

“I…wasn’t.”

It was as close as she could come to responding without lying.

His hand moved back and forth lightly, giving her shivers along her spine. “You weren’t? Or didn’t want to be?”

“I—”

“Because I know—”

he interrupted, his hand coming around to caress her chin. Gently, he tipped her face up with his thumb and index finger. “—that when it comes to scheduling, you, Eve, have absolute control.”

Intently studying her face, he no longer looked angry, and the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her. “And knowing that, I can only ask one thing.”

His thumb brushed over the sensitive skin under her chin, raising goosebumps all along her scalp. “What would I have to do to get you to say yes?”

She tilted her head back. It was as if her body acted on its own, compelled by his intoxicating magnetism.

“What do I have to do, Eve?”

he murmured in that deep, seductive voice.

He lowered his head.

It must have been instinct that made her grip his tie and pull. He paused, his handsome face a breath away, his eyes searching her face intently. He drew a deep breath.

And then his lips took hers.

The shock of his mouth, hot and demanding, electrified her body and short-circuited her mind. She again stood on tiptoe, hands gliding to his neck, and clung to him, struggling to remain standing as the world tilted and whirled around her.

He coaxed her lips apart, his tongue slow and deliberate. He took his time, searching, lingering, delving deep. He tasted of bourbon and smoke, with hints of bitter and sweet.

She’d never known that kissing could be anything like this, obliterating anything and everything but this man and her need to taste him.

He angled his head to deepen the kiss. Her hands moved up his neck, then higher. Her fingers reveled in the silky strands of his hair, and the reality of him under her seeking hands was matchless. She couldn’t stop a soft moan.

She felt his body jerk in a hard shudder. He captured her thigh to wrap her leg around him, thrusting against her, and feeling Adam this way pushed her close to incandescence.

A loud click.

Suddenly, the hallway was illuminated by bright airplane-shaped sconces.

Adam’s head jerked up, his lips tearing away, making Eve open her eyes and dig her nails into his biceps in protest. “They fixed the lights,”

he murmured.

A little dazed, she gazed up at him. He was not looking at her but focusing on something over her head.

Eve turned.

Devon stood there, frozen in place four feet away, his green eyes riveted on them.

The next second, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the dining room.

Her heart rate went into overdrive. She fought for breath.

What was she doing? What had she done?

She hadn’t kissed anyone in years.

She never kissed clients… Although, technically, Adam was not her client at the moment, Devon was. Eve tried to wrench away from Adam, choking back a panicked sob.

Adam held fast, keeping her trapped against him. “Let him go.”

She struggled to free herself from his viselike grip. “I can’t. I have to talk to him.”

Adam’s entire body tensed. His arms dropped to his sides. “Go, then.”

He stepped back.

Eve instantly felt cold. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She spotted her clutch on the floor and swooped down to retrieve it, then rushed back to the dining room, wondering what on earth she was going to say to Devon.

She found him standing by the table, calmly signing the credit card receipt. He drew a hard line under his name and tapped the paper with the point of his blue Montblanc pen.

He looked up, his green eyes carefully expressionless. “OK. You ready?”

She stared at him, still not knowing what to say, and nodded stiffly.

He smiled, and it was the first time she’d ever seen a fake smile on that man. Even his famous dimples were absent.

Why did she feel so awful?

She couldn’t offer him anything aside from what she had already given. Devon was a business transaction.

Eve ran her tongue over her still-tingling lips.

But…what was Adam Larssen?

?

“Look, Daddy, a princess!”

the red-haired little girl said, pointing. She tugged on her dad’s hand excitedly, as if he couldn’t see Eve in her ridiculously puffy white dress, walking directly toward the two of them.

Eve smiled at the child and gave her a little wave. The girl brightened even more, responding with a sunny, gap-toothed grin.

“Don’t point at the lady, Scarlett. It’s rude.”

“She’s a princess, Daddy. A bride one.”

What a sweetheart. Now that the two were right in front of her, Eve saw freckles dotting her cute little nose.

“I’m getting waffles!”

Scarlett informed her. “Chocolate chip ones!”

“Yum,”

Eve enthused, and the girl’s smile widened.

Her dad nodded apologetically at Eve as they passed by and disappeared inside Caesars Palace, undoubtedly headed for the famous Bacchanal Buffet.

It delighted Eve to see happy children who had no cares in the world. Whose parents loved them. Doting parents who protected them and didn’t let harm get close. It was easy to spot good family dynamics just by observing body language. She’d become good at it since reading people was crucial to success in what she did. She often gravitated to the type of loving family she longed to have had.

So many parents came to Las Vegas with their children in tow. That was the city’s allure: something for everyone, from the most innocent to the most depraved.

It was one of the latter she had just left behind at Caesars, and she couldn’t wait to get home and scrub herself clean of all she’d had to do last night. It involved ticklers, a giant plastic drop cloth, and whipped cream, all while wearing a white bridal ball gown because the request had been to pretend to be the client’s new wife.

Little Scarlett had thought she’d found a princess.

Ha.

At least the dress still looked presentable enough for public view, albeit stiff where the whipped cream and the guy’s load had dried. Eve’s shoulders sagged as the red Eleet limo pulled up. She was exhausted, her hands were sticky, and her feet hurt from the pointy-toed white patent stilettos the client had requested.

The driver came around to open her door. “Good morning, Eve.”

“Hi, Charlie.”

She slid in and rubbed her temples.

He eyed her sympathetically. “Rough night?”

She must have looked terrible. “You do not want to know.”

Awkwardly gathering her voluminous skirts, she tossed her black tote onto the seat beside her and sank into the cushioned leather. Charlie closed the door, and she kicked off her pumps, letting her head fall back against the headrest.

She did like Las Vegas. Despite its craziness, the city had a unique pulse and energy on which she thrived. But on mornings like this, she dreamed of being somewhere else. She visualized a golden beach, a sparkling turquoise ocean with rolling, white-tipped waves, and salty, humid air that wasn’t so dry that she needed to buy moisturizer by the case.

Her cell phone rang inside her bag with a little wind-chime tune.

Eleet.

Eve didn’t move and let it ring. It stopped. She sighed and reached for a small bottle of fresh-squeezed juice stocked in the limo’s bar. She twisted off the cap and took a big, fortifying swallow, savoring the tang of orange on her tongue.

The cell phone chimed again.

Same ringtone.

“Give me a break,”

she muttered, capping the juice and reaching inside her tote to fumble for the phone. “Hello.”

She failed at trying not to sound annoyed.

“That good of a night, huh?”

came Kitty’s purring voice.

“Add Carson to my no list.”

She put Kitty on speaker and uncapped the juice again.

“He just came off your waitlist!”

Kitty sighed. “Dang, Eve. You didn’t hear this from me, but there are grumblings that your no list is getting much too long. Which brings me to the reason I’m calling you.”

Eve closed her eyes. This wouldn’t be good.

“Eve?”

She took a sip of juice. “I’m listening.”

“You have an overnight request. All weekend. It involves a private jet to Grand Cayman and lodgings at the Ritz.”

Surf and sand for the entire weekend? She’d just been fantasizing about that.

Eve perked up. “Oh?”

Hello, lounge chair and pi?a coladas.

“Yes. And the client is VIP.”

Something in Kitty’s tone made Eve think there had to be a catch.

Her eyes narrowed. “All right. Who’s the client?”

“Well, that’s just it.”

Kitty paused. “He’s on your no list. It’s Adam Larssen.”

?

Adam

She said no.

Again.

Adam slammed his laptop shut, seething at the infuriatingly familiar email from Eleet.

Dear Mr. Larssen, we regret to inform you…

Request declined.

Declined, declined.

He was so damned sick of that canned reply.

She’d kissed him in that hallway as if she wanted to devour him. The mere thought of that surprise encounter made him rock-hard every time. One minute, he’d saved her from face-planting on the carpet, and the next, her pretty little mouth was fire under his lips. Never in his life, with any woman, had he shared this insane level of chemistry. He knew damned well that she had felt it too, yet, here it was, another rejection.

What the hell?

She’d gone with Thomason twice that he knew of, probably many more times. Why Thomason and not him? What was it that made her kiss him back like that but then consistently refuse to see him? And Thomason’s face, standing there in the hallway, looking at her like a goddamn wounded puppy…

Shit.

What was going on between Thomason and Eve?

Whatever it was, he’d put an end to it.

Enough of this.

He’d have her in the Caymans this weekend. She was getting on that plane and flying with him if he had to carry her and belt her to the seat himself.

He shrugged into his pilot jacket, snatched up his flight plan and bag, then left his office, slamming the door shut behind him.

Eve

Eve wiggled her highlighter between her fingers, frowning in concentration.

The omohyoid muscle depresses the hyoid bone and larynx and reestablishes breathing following the act of swallowing. In addition…

She groaned and rubbed her bleary eyes. The words all jumbled together, no longer making sense.

She visualized graduation, as she had done so often. She was so close that she could practically feel that rolled-up diploma in her hands. She wished she could have financed school another way, but Eleet paid so well that she’d even managed to save a little money, although not enough to pay for the first year of grad school.

She’d done it on her own. Not bad for someone with no family other than a mother with the parenting skills of a shark.

Time for a green tea break. She tossed the highlighter, placed the anatomy book face down on the side table, then stretched and headed toward the kitchen.

No sooner had she opened the cabinet and reached for a mug when the phone rang.

“Your pilot is here for you, Miss Layton.”

Eve repositioned the phone receiver, thinking she’d misheard the lobby desk clerk. “My…pilot?”

“That’s right. He says he’s here to pick you up.”

She had a feeling Devon would never speak to her again, so it could only be one other person.

Adam.

Fireflies danced in her chest. Somehow, he had found her.

Before she knew it, and against her better judgment, she found herself saying, “Send him up.”

Adam. On his way up to her apartment.

Eve started to panic, thinking she should get dressed, do something with her hair, apply a little makeup. But then she decided not to do a thing. He’d come here uninvited. He would just have to find her as she was.

Well, almost.

She sprinted to the bathroom, dragged a brush through her hair, and dotted some rose gloss on her dry lips. She retied the belt of her red silk robe and kicked off her frumpy fuzzy slippers, opting for barefoot.

There. That would have to do.

Why was he here?

The sound of the buzzer made her jump. She couldn’t stop herself from peering through the peephole.

And there he was.

In uniform.

A thread of panic wound through her. Why had she let him come up? Oh, well. She’d take this opportunity to tell him to stop requesting her. Her heartbeat took flight, and strangely, her upper arms and lips suddenly tingled.

She placed her palm on the handle, took a deep breath, and opened the door, but she stood in the doorway, blocking his entry.

Dear God, but he was handsome. Heart-meltingly so, in that crisp white short-sleeved shirt and navy-blue tie. A pair of gold wings gleamed on his left breast pocket. His black-and-gold-striped epaulets graced his broad shoulders, and she remembered the feel of them under her fingertips.

“What are you doing here?”

she demanded.

A trace of a smile played on his lips. “Good morning to you too, Eve.”

She just stared at him, her gaze sweeping from the top of his bright blond hair to the tips of his black lace-up shoes. His muscular legs were long, and she would bet her last dime that those leather Oxfords were at least a size thirteen.

His eyes flared like blue flames under her scrutiny. “May I come in? Or would you prefer to have me in the hallway?”

His blatant hint about the other evening at Mile High made her cheeks grow warm.

She hesitated, then stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He carried with him the scents of coffee and that cologne, the one that brought unwelcome memories of every hot encounter she’d had with him.

“How did you find out where I live?”

“Come on now, Eve. It’s not that hard. All it takes is Intelius and twenty bucks.”

She then recalled that Devon had introduced her with her last name. At least Eleet hadn’t shared her information. Not that it was any comfort, seeing how easy it was for anyone to find her.

She didn’t invite Adam to sit down, but he strode to the middle of her living room, looking like every woman’s hottest pilot fantasy. His blue gaze homed in on her chest, and she glanced down to realize that her silk robe was starting to gape open. She pinched it closed, lifted her chin, and stared him down.

“My eyes are up here.”

She motioned with two fingers.

That earned her an unapologetic and seductive smile. He took his time dragging his gaze from her breasts and up her neck, pausing at her lips before he finally focused on her eyes.

Her mouth went dry. “Why are you here?”

“Because our—”

his lips twitched “—conversation in the hallway at Mile High was rudely interrupted.”

Her cheeks warmed at the memory. Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then snapped back to his eyes, but not before he noticed.

“You never answered my question,”

he said in a low tone that made her insides flip, “about why you refuse to see me.”

With that, he started forward, stalking toward her. Eve began walking backward, but he kept coming, his strides long and purposeful, until she bumped into the high white granite countertop that adjoined the kitchen, and there was nowhere left to go.

He halted, one short step away. “I will not ask again because you won’t tell me. I’m here to pick you up.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

“We’re flying to the Caymans. We have—”

he checked his watch “—thirty minutes to get to the airport. Which means you have ten minutes to dress and grab your toiletries. Oh, and sunscreen. What they have at the hotel is limited.”

She stared at him, mouth agape. “What is this?”

“This is your captain speaking.”

He grinned, revealing perfect white teeth.

She almost hit the floor. Because the first sighting of Adam Larssen actually grinning made her knees threaten to buckle.

Slowly, the grin faded, replaced by his usual intense demeanor. In one step, he was right there, hot and tall and overwhelming, his big hands sliding around her waist. He had her trapped against the counter, and—oh God—she liked it. She still couldn’t breathe properly and gave up even trying.

She raised her face to his. A few beats passed with her unmoving, feeling the heat radiate from his hard body.

At last, his head lowered. Ever so gently, he brushed his lips against her temple. “Say yes, Eve,”

he murmured. His lips were soft and warm.

Eve closed her eyes. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

He pulled her close and rested his chin on top of her head.

It felt so good.

He felt so good.

For a moment, she just stood there, safe in the shelter of his strong arms. She wanted to resist him, but it was becoming clear that she could not.

“If I go with you, I have terms,”

she said at last.

“Name them.”

“If I do this, it will be strictly companionship. Nothing…nothing like before…”

The memory of what he’d done to her that first night crashed into her like a tsunami. “You know what I mean.”

“You’re saying that you’ll come with me, but you don’t want to come?”

His deep voice held seduction and a trace of amusement.

Oh, he was good, really good, and he was wearing her down with every second he held her and talked to her like this.

It was all she could do to stop herself from grabbing him by that navy-blue tie, dragging him to her bedroom, and going all cavewoman on him.

She had to have a buffer from temptation. “I’ll need my own room.”

“Already booked.”

Her eyes went wide. “You…you knew I would accept this?”

His smile was devastating. “I was hoping.”

She shook her head. This man… “I need to pack.”

“Done. Your luggage is being loaded on the plane as we speak. Dress, toiletries, and sunscreen, and we’re out of here.”

“What? How?”

“I had a little help.”

He checked his watch. “Nine minutes left.”

What had she just signed up for?

She shook her head, then headed toward her bedroom.