What Happened in Vegas.... Wendy Etherington

      “Is that any way to talk to a potential benefactor?”

      Digging deep for the elegance she’d fought so hard to cultivate, she eased herself into her chair. “No, but since you’re not one, I feel perfectly comfortable being direct.”

      “Oh, right. I forgot.” He smiled. “I’m just an adventurer chasing a pipe dream.”

      Yet she’d still been tempted to follow him. She’d actually considered trading her future and her dreams for this man. “Aren’t you?”

      “Most of the time. Aren’t you going to ask if I ever found the Diamond of Sierra?”

      She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Talk about a pipe dream. “Did you?”

      “Yes.”

      Despite herself, she was impressed. During the brief time they’d spent together, he’d assured her he was well on his way to finding great treasure and achieving fame. Though their chemistry was fantastic, and he was charming and fun, she hadn’t believed a word he said. He’d shared too many characteristics with the endless parade of guys through Vegas’s casinos with dollar signs in their eyes and surefire plans to beat the house.

      Now, however, she recognized how different he’d been from those dreamers. His plans had relied not on the luck of the draw but on solid research. She also recognized that a gem of the size and fame of the Sierra could bring a great deal of publicity to her auction. “Do you still have it?”

      “You’d probably like to have it in your upcoming auction.”

      She leaned back in her chair. This was why he’d come. He wasn’t trying to dig up the past and jeopardize her reputation. He was looking to make money. She’d be glad to accommodate him. “Naturally.”

      “Sorry. I sold it soon after I acquired it.” He angled his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t take notice.”

      After their wild weekend together, she’d thought about double-checking his claims. She’d nearly approached the friend who’d introduced them about a hundred times to ask her the whole story about the sexy, mysterious Gideon Nash.

      But Jacinda had only been into that weekend for fun. She wasn’t like her mother, who actually believed the stories and promises men told her. Plus, Jacinda hadn’t wanted it getting around the club that she’d become sexually intimate with a customer. She’d needed that job, and Gideon was way too big a risk. Years later her discretion had paid off, since her boss agreed to tell people she’d been a waitress when potential employers—especially high-dollar ones like the auction house—called her references.

      “I thought it was best to make a clean break,” she said.

      “I expected you at the airport.”

      Jacinda shook her head. “No, you didn’t.” Laying her hands on her desk, she forced herself to calmly link her fingers. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

      “I want to see the emerald.”

      “What em—” She clenched her hands as she realized the auction piece he had to be referring to. “The Veros family emerald?”

      He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, that one.”

      Though curious about his interest in the stone, she knew there was no way he had the kind of money necessary to actually buy the emerald. Who turned treasure hunter/aimless adventurer into a profitable profession?

      She managed a polite smile. “The auction is next week. If you’d like a catalog—”

      He stood. “I want to see the emerald now.”

      “We don’t do previews. The auction—”

      “Yes, you do. For VIP clients.” He paused, his gaze hitting hers like a laser. “I’d think you’d be glad to do a favor for an old friend.”

      “You’re not a friend.”

      “No, I was much more.” He angled his head. “Or was I?”

      Visions of slick skin, rippling muscles and blazing green eyes raced through her mind. Over the years there were moments she was sure she could smell him, moments she just knew he’d been in her car, or her apartment. He never was, of course. But the memories of them together were so strong, so vivid, she couldn’t completely set them aside. No matter how hard she fought.

      “We weren’t anything,” she said.

      He clutched his hands over his heart. “Aw, now my feelings are hurt.”

      “I don’t want to get into a confrontation with you.”

      “Then don’t. Show me the emerald.”

      She sighed in the face of his determination. Maybe he’d heard the rumors about the gem’s beauty, wanted to see it and had hoped to charm the auction director into allowing the viewing. Now he was using their linked past to push his way into the vault. Maybe the stone had been lost once-upon-a-time, and he’d tried to find it. Maybe a competitor had beaten him to its recovery.

      Hell, maybe he’d tried to steal, swindle or connive the emerald from somebody and failed.

      She should toss him out of her office. She should plant her foot and call security to get him out. In six years, she should have found the strength to say no to him. Instead, she was tempted to grant his request.

      Why?

      For old time’s sake? A thanks-for-the-two-hot-nights parting gift?

      As much as she’d like to assign a complicated reason or a justification for breaking the rules, she knew the real motivation was much more simple.

      He intrigued her.

      The way no one else ever had, from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. He drew her toward him like the proverbial moth to a flame, tempting her toward the heat, even though the danger of burning up loomed if she made the mistake of getting too close.

      Why was he here—really? Though he’d seemed surprised to see her, had he expected to find her when he walked into the office? If so, how had he found her? Hell, how did he remember her, a girl who had to have been one in a million?

      And what was his connection to the valuable emerald? What did he want it for? Did he have a client on the hook, or did he merely want to gaze upon its magnificence?

      She rose, making sure she did so with grace and confidence. He had to notice the differences between Jacinda and Jacy. She hoped he kept the contrast clear in his mind. She’d made a new life, and she wouldn’t let him show up and jeopardize a moment of it.

      What did it matter if she let him have his way and see the stone? He’d be out the door and out of her life quicker if she gave in to his request.

      She rounded the desk, then headed toward the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled. “You’re coming, aren’t you?” she asked, since he hadn’t moved.

      His gaze slid from her face, down her body, then rose slowly, leisurely, again. “You always had a distracting strut.”

      She bit back a gasp of annoyance. Leave it to Gideon, the wild, live-for-the-moment adventurer, to steal her control and land her smack-dab in the middle of her past so effortlessly. “I don’t strut.” Not anymore.

      He reached around her and opened the door. “You most certainly do.”

      The enticing scent of him washed over her, and the memories quickly followed, as if six minutes had passed instead of six years. She recalled the heat of his body, the way his lean muscles rippled beneath her touch, the intense pleasure he’d brought her—like none other she’d had before or since. She remembered gawking at the luxury hotel suite, the expensive dinner and champagne. All free, he’d said. A gift from a gambler friend who’d decided to head to Monte Carlo instead of Vegas that weekend.

      The