Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [50]
Of course, beneath her skirt, her pussy wept with wanting him, so the physical part of her quest remained right on target. But damn it—he just kept making her feel so…so girlish, almost even romantic. So some of her rules seemed almost impossible to follow.
The heart wants what the heart wants. Her mother used to say that to her. This wasn’t the first time in her life she’d liked a guy she shouldn’t—starting with her friend Lana’s boyfriend in high school. That’s when her mom had first imparted those words, and they came back to her now.
The truth was—she knew what her heart wanted.
But that still didn’t mean she could have it. Just like she couldn’t have Lana’s boyfriend, either—she’d never gotten him, in fact had never even tried, and Lana had never known. She’d done the right thing back then, and no one had gotten hurt. She only hoped she could be so smart and in control this time around.
“Dinner was quick,” Damon said, checking his watch after he slipped a credit card in the leather binder the waitress had just left. “Too early yet to hit the clubs—we’ve got an hour or so to kill.”
“I can think of a good way to kill an hour,” she flirtatiously replied, unable to resist running the edge of her shoe up his leg under the table.
As usual, those beautiful brown eyes twinkled as he tilted his head and sent her a naughty little grin. “Too bad you like it in private so much, because we don’t have time to go back to the hotel. We’ll have to come up with something more boring.”
After flashing a teasing smirk, she looked around them—at the cars and limos rushing up and down the Strip, at the Bellagio’s fountains across the boulevard, at the Las Vegas night beginning to hum with excitement—and her eyes landed on the Eiffel Tower just a stone’s throw away.
“Let’s go to the top,” she said, pointing.
“I’ve never done that.”
“Oooh—so finally I get to give you a new experience.”
Ten minutes later, Damon had purchased the tickets and they were riding the elevator with an elderly couple and a young family—all 460 feet up, according to the guide, who also pointed out some of the more noticeable landmarks such as Caesars Palace and the Mirage visible from the elevator window.
Stepping onto the viewing platform a moment later, the warm night air hit Brenna like a brick—but somehow she found it more invigorating than oppressive as it came with a hot breeze that, combined with the view, reminded her she’d probably done more real living in the past few days than ever in her life.
“Wow,” she said, stepping up to the railing. Like many tall structures, the platform was surrounded by small bars of crisscrossing steel, a sort of netting to keep people from falling—but every so often, there was a break in it to allow visitors a clear view. In addition to the hotels and casinos lining Las Vegas Boulevard, the tower’s panoramic view afforded a look at the desert valley and, to the west, the last remnants of the sunset shone behind a silhouette of mountains.
Damon stepped up next to her. “The view isn’t nearly as good as from the real one in Paris, but I have to admit, it’s not bad.”
She turned to look at him. “You’ve been to Paris?”
He nodded easily. “A few times.”
What was she thinking? Of course he’d been to Paris. He was Damon-freaking-Andros, after all. At moments, she almost forgot that—she’d finally quit being as starstruck as in the beginning, she supposed. But then, at other moments, it came back to her with startling clarity.
“Why do you suddenly look sad?” he asked.
She felt like a total baby but answered honestly. “Envy, I suppose. I’ve always dreamed of going to Paris. And other than a few beach trips back in college, and then moving to L.A., I’ve hardly been anywhere. I guess seeing the hotel today and now this—even if it’s just an amusement park sort of reproduction—brought my wish back.”
He covered her hand with his. “You’ll get there.”
She tilted her head. “What makes you think so?”
“You’re going brand-new places right now, Brenna—both figuratively and literally. A whole new world