Chapter 5
After hauling my million shopping bags through the suite and into the bedroom, I drop them just inside the doorway.
I kick off my shoes and I’m sure I can hear my feet breathe a sigh of relief.
No matter how used to wearing heels you are, a five hour successful shopping trip is going to be somewhat uncomfortable.
I sit on the edge of the luxurious king size bed, letting my shoulders drop, then rolling them in circles to try and ease the tension.
I feel exhausted, so I let myself flop back, allowing every muscle in my body to relax.
It feels like I’m being hugged by the deep, soft bedding and I shut my heavy eyes for just a minute, knowing that if I don’t move in the next ten seconds I’ll be asleep.
I don’t move.
And three hours later I wake up with a jump.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never fall asleep during the day.
Hell, I struggle to sleep at night, but since I’ve been here, I’ve spent half my time sleeping.
I know it’s not the luxury and comfort that does it; I had luxury and comfort at Aaron’s house.
Maybe it’s because I feel safe, like I can breathe and let my guard down.
Maybe it’s because I’m so close to home.
I stretch out my arms and rub the sleep from my eyes before hopping off the bed and padding to the bathroom to freshen up.
I glance in the mirror—I look a mess. Yes, I’ve been through emotional hell over the last few days and I’ve just woken from a very deep sleep, but I look terrible.
My hair resembles a bird’s nest and my dark roots are far too long.
My face is still very bruised, and despite the extra sleep I’ve had there are dark circles under my eyes.
There’s not much I can do right now about my hair, but I can certainly treat my body to a soak in the stunning bath in my suite.
Even if it’s a temporary fix, it’ll make me feel better.
While the stunning porcelain bath is filling, I pour myself a glass of white wine and empty all of my new belongings on the bed.
I survey my collection and smile. My mom always said I was a magpie, attracted to pretty and shiny things.
The beginning of my new wardrobe is different to the simple, conservative clothes I’ve worn for the past year—sexy denim, sultry underwear and bright colored tops.
It’s about time I started living my life and having some fun.
New me. New start.
When I submerge myself up to my neck in the deep bath, all of my muscles relax and I groan in appreciation. The jasmine scented bubble bath is a perfect mix of fresh and exotic and I close my eyes, letting a feeling of calm wash over me as I listen to the water gently lapping as I move
The blare of the loud phone ringing throughout the suite makes me jump. By the time I’ve decided to get out of the bath, the ringing stops.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” I mutter to myself.
It rings again, making me jump for a second time.
I hop out and wrap one of the huge fluffy white towels around me.
It’s warm from being on the towel rail, just another nice touch that makes this place feel wonderful.
I nearly slip over on the highly polished floor trying to run out of the bathroom, and I get to the phone just before it rings off.
“Hello?” I say, a little unsure and out of breath.
“Miss. Jamesson.” That baritone voice, smooth like caramel, makes my body shiver even though I’m clearly not cold. “I’m sorry if I interrupted you, you sound … out of breath.” I detect a stiffness in his voice and then I realize what he may be thinking.
“Oh no, I … I was in the bath and I missed the call the first time, and I wasn’t expecting the phone to ring again, and when it did I had to run to catch it in time.” What is it about him that makes me act like a nervous schoolgirl?
“You mean to tell me, you’re standing there dripping soapy bath water all over my carpet …”
“I’m not dripping water … oh, maybe I am, I’m sorry. I’ll have it—”
His laugh cuts me off.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m joking, but the thought of you standing there wet and covered in bubbles is no laughing matter.” He sounds less humorous and I feel an edge that causes my skin to tingle.
“How did you know I had bubbles?”
“I didn’t, it was a guess. A good guess though, and an even better mental picture.”
I feel my cheeks flush. Coming from anyone else that would sound lame, but from him it sounds incredibly sexy. “Mr. King, were you calling for a reason?” I change the subject and tap my foot at him, even though he can’t see it.
“Yes … I wanted to offer you full use of the spa and salon tomorrow. You know, since it’s more your thing.”
“Why would you want to do that for me?” My tone is stiffer than I meant it to be, but I can’t stop my instinct to be suspicious.
He sighs deeply. “Haven’t we had this conversation already? Can’t a man do something nice for a beautiful woman?”
His playful tone and the smile I detect in his voice softens me, and I actually believe that he wants to do something nice for me. That’s the thing that scares me the most; they all start out like that, but then it ends badly.
“Not without expecting something else in return in my experience,” I say dejectedly.
“Well, I don’t want anything in return.”
“Nothing?” I question.
“Nothing,” he says with absolute certainty.
“I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes to the spa and say you’ll have a drink with me this evening?”
I can picture the sexy smile he has on his face and after he’s gone to so much trouble to accommodate me, I find it hard to say no. But he has just proved me correct—men can’t do something nice without wanting something in return.
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes, no …” I’m not sure if he can detect my smirk in my voice, but I hold my ground.
“Why?”
“Because you said you didn’t want anything in return, but then you asked me to go for a drink with you. You thought you could win me over by offering me a day in the spa and I would give in. Well, no.”
“I didn’t … I … It wasn’t premeditated, I just—”
The way he stumbles over his words is cute. “Mr. King?”
“Yes.”
“You’re waffling …”
I hear him laugh gently on the other end of the line, and it empowers me to know that I obviously affect him too. “Touche, Miss. Jamesson,” he concedes.
“Thank you for your kind offer of the use of your spa, Mr. King.”
“Well, , I sincerely hope you make use of it, and if you need anything at all—”
“I know where you are …”
“Have a good evening, Miss. Jamesson.”
“Thank you, Mr. King. You too.”
I hang up the phone with a big grin on my face.
Despite his proving me right with his inability to resist offering me a drink, there’s something genuine about him and when he says he doesn’t want anything in return, I believe him.
You would think that my past experiences with the opposite sex would put me off for life, and I would have laughed in your face if you had told me one week ago that any man could make me laugh, put me at ease and accelerate my pulse like Denham King seems to do.
I’ve never known anything like it, but it’s fun, and exciting.
A perfect distraction and the kind of light-hearted entertainment I need.
As I sit on the indescribably comfortable chaise lounge in my suite, I decide that I’m supposed to be starting over, wiping out the past and embracing the thought of the future, so that means facing things head on ‘if’ they happen.
I’m in control of my own destiny and tonight is going to be just the beginning.
I’m going to visit the casino, spend some money and maybe even win a little, and have a damn good time.
What do you even wear to a casino in Las Vegas? I finally settle on a black pants suit with flared legs and a black halter top. I’m lucky to be gifted with long legs, but this suit makes them look even longer, especially when I fasten a wide gold belt around my waist.
I sit for long minutes looking in the mirror, trying to decide how to wear my hair.
I’m not happy with wearing it down since the ends look tatty, so I pin it up in a simple twist and pull down just a few tendrils around my face to soften the look.
My eyes are smoky, my lips a deep red and I hope that the new foundation I bought conceals the bruising on my cheek.
A gold watch and my favorite diamond bracelet that belonged to my grandmother complete the look.
I feel confident. I know I look good and I feel like I’m smiling from the inside.
I pour a generous shot of Vodka from the mini bar and go to stand out on the balcony. The night air is warm and the daylight is starting to fade, I have a good feeling about things, about my future. Tonight is going to be fun.
I walk through the lobby, my heels clicking on the marble flooring and echoing around the high ceiling.
As I approach the large doors to the casino, I’m greeted by two large doormen in sharp black suits who push the doors back for me and gesture for me to enter.
They look smart, friendly and professional, but you wouldn’t want to mess with them.
They give off a feeling of authority and power and I’m sure they don’t mess about when it comes to the crunch.
I scan the room and my eyes linger on the roulette table where a young woman is jumping up and down with excitement. She’s obviously had a lucky bet and I smile to see her elation.
I head for the bar, not really knowing where to get started or even if I’m going to try my hand at lady luck, but observing the buzzing room from the bar with a delicious cocktail sounds like a great starting point.
The bar is relatively quiet and I find an empty stool immediately.
The bartender makes his way over and welcomes me with a smile.
Everything about his demeanor is friendly and he’s cute but I’m guessing he’s quite young—twenty-three, maybe twenty-four.
He looks familiar, but I don’t know anyone here.