Weekend in Vegas!. Jackie Braun

of herself. But when the clock struck five, butterflies began an intense dance in her stomach. She turned to see Wyatt walking toward her.

      I am totally betting against myself, she thought.

      Wyatt was enjoying himself more than was wise. Alex had made a full confession about how the tour idea had been born. And now she was being completely charming with the guests.

      “This is the Blue Ballroom,” she said with a sweep of one arm. “It’s named, I assume, for obvious reasons.” She looked at Wyatt, a “hmm” expression in her eyes. “Maybe you could hire someone to choose a more imaginative name. Or have a contest to rename the room, with tickets to a local show as a prize.”

      “Oh, that would be fun! I have some great romantic ideas. Something to do with hearts or beating hearts or blues in the night,” a woman said, followed by several other people agreeing.

      And suddenly, McKendrick’s was running a “Rename the Blue Ballroom” contest.

      “I love your enthusiasm,” Alex said, “and since this is a ballroom, well…if anyone feels like dancing, we’ll stop here for a song or two. Pete, can you hit the music and the lights, please?” she called out to the custodian. Suddenly the crystalline chandeliers descended from the ceiling, their lights set to a perfect glow. Alex reached for Wyatt’s hand as a low, sultry tune began to stream from the speakers. “I’m sorry, but we have to be the ones to start,” she whispered.

      He nodded. “Not a problem.” Although, in fact, it was.

      Touching Alex was like juggling flaming swords. Sooner or later a man was bound to set the curtains on fire and start something he couldn’t stop. That wasn’t allowed, but…what could he do? She had clearly gotten into this tour without thinking, and now she was improvising and treading water. Only someone with no heart at all would desert her now. He, it seemed, still had a heart…or something that vaguely resembled one. It had withered because he chose not to use it. With good reason, he reminded himself. Still, he would dance with her.

      “How did this happen? The speakers and the music?” he asked, trying to keep his mind on the situation and off the woman.

      She looked down at their joined hands as if she hadn’t realized that she had taken his hand and was regretting the intimate connection. “I threw myself on Pete’s mercy. I had to do something to give the tour a little oomph,” she said. “Even if this whole event was…accidental, the guests signed up for a tour, and they deserve something special.”

      “I agree. So we’ll dance, Alexandra.” As he placed his hand at her waist, he was instantly aware of the warmth of her body, the subtle jasmine scent of her hair, those pretty blue eyes gazing up at him as he twirled her around the floor.

      “I didn’t actually plan this part beforehand. Us dancing together, I mean,” she confessed. “I should have asked first, before roping you into this dance.”

      “Don’t apologize. That’s an order. Besides, I consider myself lucky. This may be my last chance to dance in the Blue Ballroom before it becomes the Beating Heart Ballroom,” he said, surprising himself once again by teasing her. What was it about Alex that made him do such unwise things?

      She chuckled. “I never thought about that. What if all the names submitted are hideous?”

      “Then we’ll have another contest.”

      “You’re being very nice about being dragged into this,” she said, but he shook his head.

      “I believe I’m the one who dragged you into this job.”

      “I could have said no,” she whispered as the music became slower. And without thinking, without a trace of common sense, he pulled her closer and tried not to think about how soft she felt against the hard planes of his chest.

      She could have said no and left him in the lurch. But she had said yes, he thought, and now she was in his arms, and he was in danger of doing something stupid…like pulling her even closer against his body, right in front of the tour group.

      But the music ended. Alex smiled and thanked him.

      “There’s nothing to thank me for. We danced. I enjoyed it.” End of story.At least his mind wanted it to be the end. His nerve-endings, however, were still remembering Alex in his arms.

      “Could we have another longer dance some evening?” someone asked.

      “Why not weekly?” Alex suggested, and a new McKendrick’s tradition was born.

      The rest of the tour followed the same pattern, with Alex thinking of some new idea, such as having movies running constantly in the theater, complete with popcorn. But when they came to the solarium, she asked Wyatt to explain the history of the room.

      “It was simple,” he said to his audience. “When I first came here I missed green. So I tried to create a green haven.”

      “You succeeded,” Alex said. “Tropical plants, comfortable chairs, private nooks and the sound of bubbling water. I could find a happy escape here.”

      “I hope you will come here when you need some downtime,” Wyatt said, looking directly into Alex’s eyes.

      “Thank you,” she mouthed silently, and he wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for talking to the group or for suggesting a private escape for her. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that for a moment he’d felt intimately connected to her. That wasn’t safe for either of them.

      By the time the tour ended, Alex was on a first-name basis with every person, and they had all promised to recommend the tour to others, to show up to her dances, to watch her movies and start submitting names for the ballroom. Within less than a week Alex had charmed his customers and promised to tip McKendrick’s operating procedures upside down.

      And, Wyatt mused as he insisted on walking her to her room, she had threatened the even keel he liked to maintain on his emotions. “You won them over easily,” he told her as they made it to her door.

      “Well, I have a lot of practice shepherding people around, and I enjoyed doing this. Helping people can be pretty rewarding most of the time.”

      “But not always?” There was that fleeting shadow in her eyes again.

      “Nothing works one hundred percent of the time,” she said. “Sometimes I get a little overzealous or overly involved and that can have a downside.”

      He wondered if she’d been “overly involved” with any of those jerks who had made her swear off men. But of course she had. Even from the short time he’d known her, Wyatt could see that Alex was the type to jump in and help total strangers. How much more would she give to those she cared about? And how deeply would she have been hurt when those men she’d cared for disappointed her?

      That, he realized, was hitting too close to home. He’d disappointed women. He didn’t want Alex to be one of them.

      “That won’t happen here, though,” she told him. “I won’t get…overzealous. I’m just trying to help the hotel.”

      She would have heard the stories about him and women. He knew about the bets. He ignored them.

      “I’m glad you’re here helping,” he said, wanting to reassure her, to tell her that he wouldn’t disappoint her.

      “I’m glad, too. McKendrick’s is so special.”

      At that husky comment about the place that he had poured himself into, Wyatt couldn’t seem to stop the rush of sensation sluicing through him. “Thank you.” He reached down, took her chin in his hand and lowered his head to taste her lips.

      She was soft…warm…yielding. And when she angled her head and placed her hand on his chest, all reason fled. He pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. His senses were spinning.

      She looped her arms around his neck. Her fingertips slid into his hair.

      That