She and Peter both had baggage, ghosts, and issues galore.
But Peter Ashford had been persistent and patient while she’d tried to sort through her feelings for him and Jack and Coop. And while the other two men had always been there when she needed them and provided tempting diversions on occasion, Peter was the only one who had professed his feelings and offered her a future.
Indeed, their trip was compliments of a package he’d won in a charity auction a few months ago. They were sitting in first class and she was lightly buzzed on wine and warm nuts they’d been served while everyone in coach was still searching for a place to stuff their carry-on. A first-class life was what she had to look forward to if she would only open her heart to him.
Carlotta looked into Peter’s earnest blue eyes and nodded in assurance. “I think this might be just what we need to get things on track.”
He smiled, then grimaced into a yawn. “I’m sorry,” he said behind his hand. “With Walt out of the office, I’ve been working long hours.”
She nodded in sympathy. Walt Tully had been hospitalized from an overdose of prescription drugs just as his former partner and fugitive Randolph Wren had been captured. So in a sense, she and her family were loosely responsible for Peter’s exhaustion.
“Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you before we land.”
“If you’re sure.” But he was already reclining his seat, and as the plane went airborne, he was softly snoring.
When they reached cruising altitude, Carlotta asked a flight attendant for a blanket to tuck around Peter’s sleeping form. Even in slumber, his features, hair, and clothing were neat and polished, so different from—
No, she wouldn’t think of Jack. She reached down to the inexpensive pink beaded elastic bracelet she’d bought, pulled it up and let it snap against the sensitive skin of her wrist. The zing of pain made her flinch. A good reminder that Jack equals pain. If she zapped herself every time she thought of him, eventually her body would get the message.
She hoped.
Fatigue pulled at her, too, but her mind wouldn’t shut down. She passed the flight watching a couple of movies—one a romantic comedy featuring two people who were impossibly ill-suited overcoming all their differences to find happily ever after, and the other a con she and her gal pal Hannah could’ve pulled off with more panache.
Throughout, her mind kept wandering to what awaited her in Vegas. Would she find her mother? Would Valerie be happy to see her? Would she and Peter finally turn a corner?
Below them the colored lights of Vegas came into view, twinkling with promise. The city looked magical and Carlotta was inexplicably shot through with the wondrous sense that here, anything was possible.
Plus ten points.
Chapter 2
“WELCOME TO THE VIP SUITE, Mr. and Mrs. Ashford.”
Carlotta opened her mouth to correct the uniformed bellman.
“Thank you,” Peter said, clearly pleased at the assumption. Then he gave her a wink.
She swallowed her irritation—Peter was only trying to protect her honor.
Besides, it was hard to be cross standing in the middle of such opulence. The massive room was enveloped in gold and white carpet, curtains, and upholstered furniture, with subtle touches of black here and there.
The bellman swept his arm toward the enormous bed, swathed in miles of luxe fabric. “The California king mattress can be adjusted for firmness and massage.” He was tactful enough not to point out the mirrored tiles on the ceiling, but she blushed under Peter’s heated glance.
The man walked past the bed into a wide hallway and indicated the tall wood doors on either side. “His and her walk-in closets, each with a dressing table and a safe for your valuables.”
Beyond the closets, he threw open double doors to reveal a breathtaking white marble bathroom with gold fixtures. “Two showers, each fitted with dual shower heads and steam. The floor is heated. The tub is equipped with fifty jets.” He pointed. “Use this panel for a light show. Use this panel for the sound system. The television here and in the sitting room receive over two hundred channels, and you can place bets using the special remote.”
He led them back into the living area. “Of course, the bar is fully stocked, and room service is available twenty-four seven. We have six restaurants, an exercise facility on the tenth floor, and pools on the fifth, fifteenth, and twentieth floors. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?”
“We’re good,” Peter assured him, folding a bill into the man’s hand.
He gave a curt nod of thanks and left. Carlotta looked at Peter and lifted her hands. “Was this the best you could do?”