What am I doing here?
Not just in Las Vegas, in the strip's most captivating hotel, because God knows this is the last place I belong. I'm a quiet girl. I follow the rules. I don't have a lot of friends, and the craziest thing I ever do is get too drunk to pass the time at parties I don't want to get dragged to.
But why am I underneath the owner of that very hotel, buried in his masculine scent, overwhelmed with his sheer strength and irresistible mouth? This man could almost be my father, and he certainly puts my net worth to pitiful shame.
They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I'm starting to hope that's not true.