She disconnected the call, turned on her heel and froze. Her jaw dropped and he knew she’d spotted him. Her face went pale as she reached behind her and braced one hand on the countertop, on top of her cell phone.
He walked through the room with a long, easy stride that he strove to keep nonchalant. He schooled his features and forced himself to treat her the way he’d treat any other businessperson who’d leased space from him. He wasn’t a first-rate gambler for nothing. He knew how to bluff with the best and how to keep his emotions under wraps.
But he couldn’t resist slipping his hand deep into his left pocket and rubbing the top of his left thigh where he had a tiny tattoo of a medieval knight’s fist wrapped around a bleeding heart. It was his constant reminder that he no longer allowed his emotions to be a part of his sexual relationships.
It took a lot of guts for Shelby to come back to Vegas after what she’d done. It took the kind of gall of someone who had nothing left to lose. And she’d not only come back to his home turf but taken up residence in his kingdom.
She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But she’d changed. Before, she’d been kind of wild—more untamed. The kind of woman who’d made his dad crazy because she was obviously eye candy.
God, he’d been an ass when he was younger. He hoped like hell that Shelby hadn’t been aware of that part of him. But he suspected she must’ve been. Otherwise why would she have taken the million dollars his dad offered and left him?
“What are you doing here?” he asked silkily.
“I own this place,” she said.
God, her voice was still soft and sweet. Everything he remembered about her was the same. She still looked twenty-two. It wasn’t fair that time had been so kind to her. He’d be able to handle this reunion a lot better if she’d gained weight, had gray hair, something like that.
“I meant in Vegas,” he said, leaning in closer and putting his hands on either side of her, caging her between his body and the counter. Ten years had passed, but right now it felt as if she’d just left him. That had been more than enough time to get rid of any lingering anger, but seeing her again had brought it all to the fore. He wasn’t ready to let her go.
He’d never forgotten Shelby’s voice. The way it sounded when she was happy. The way it deepened when she came in his arms. Or the way she’d sounded on the phone during that hurried conversation when she’d explained that she had to leave.
“I’m working,” she said now.
“I remember a girl who used to say she’d never work a day in her life.”
“I changed my mind. Money has a way of running out.”
“Even the cool million you took from my dad?” he asked.
But when he saw the color leave her face and watched her pupils dilate, he didn’t have the rush of adrenaline that he’d thought he’d feel. Instead he felt big and mean, like the bully his father had always been.
“Of course it did,” she said. But inside, a part of her was aching. It had been easy to forget the implications of what she’d done while she’d lived on the East Coast. Distance had provided a kind of barrier for her.
Shelby Anne Paxton stared at the man she’d almost married for his money. She’d been looking for a rich boy to marry and Hayden had been looking for a nice-looking girl to annoy his dad. She couldn’t explain it even now, but there’d been a connection between the two of them that she’d always thought went deeper than his money and her looks.
He’d changed in the last ten years but not nearly enough. He still had a thick head of dark hair that curled rakishly over one eye. He had bright blue eyes that had always been able to see past her defenses, and thick lips that made her remember how they’d felt on hers.
Damn, where had that come from?
“Did you know this was my hotel?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” she said softly. There was no way she was going to tell him that his father had flown to Atlanta and suggested she bid for this location. Suggested was really too nice a term for what he’d done. Alan MacKenzie had practically blackmailed her into coming back here. He’d threatened to leak the information about her gold-digging past to several magazines. Bêcheur d’Or was gaining an international reputation for class, and the last thing she needed was negative exposure. But Alan had also dangled a carrot—he’d offered her anything she wanted, within reason, if she agreed. Shelby knew he expected her to ask for money.
Yes, Alan had pushed her to come back, and she had. But now that she was here, she wasn’t sure she should have listened to him. The problem was, she still had an obsession with Hayden. He was the man she thought of late at night when she was alone.
“Then why are you here?”
“Um…” She couldn’t tell him the truth. Would he believe a part of it—that she needed some closure and to pay him back for what he’d unknowingly given her by asking her to marry him? If he hadn’t done that, Alan would never have paid her the money she’d needed to get started in business. Her exclusive line of boutiques turned a huge profit and were considered a value-added chain to many luxury resorts around the world. All of that was thanks to this man.
“I’m waiting, Shelby. Tell me why you’re here. Are you hoping to strike it rich again in Vegas?”
In ways he’d never understand.
He stood before her, seething with anger. But she couldn’t explain why she was back. Or that she couldn’t stay away once Alan had approached her.
She’d forgotten about the anger. Maybe because of the way she’d left. Their last meeting had been a joyous one. The night before their wedding. She swallowed hard. She’d forgotten about her own emotions and how hard they could be to deal with.
“When you say it like that—”
“You sound like the gold digger you are,” he finished for her.
“Not anymore, Hayden. I’m here because it’s a smart business move.” She’d left him at the altar. Called him from the airport with his father’s check in her hand. How was he ever going to forgive that?
“Nice touch with the boutique name,” he said after a few moments had passed.
A brief smile played at her lips. Naming the shop with the French word for “gold digger” had been her idea. After all, she’d always been unflinchingly honest when it came to what she was. She’d grown up too poor to pretend that money meant nothing to her. “At the time it seemed kind of tongue in cheek,” she explained. “I mean, you know how I started out.”
“With nothing,” he said. She realized some of the anger had faded from his eyes and he was looking at her with something akin to lust.
Passion had never been the problem between them. She’d always been the biggest obstacle in their relationship. Only after a few years of therapy was she able to see that they probably wouldn’t have lasted together even if she hadn’t taken the payoff his father had offered. Hayden had been more interested in having the most attractive woman on his arm, and she’d been too interested in having financial security. Their relationship had been very shallow.
“And now you have this,” he said.
His aftershave hadn’t changed in all the years they’d been apart. Still a spicy, masculine scent that she knew he had custom blended in France.
“What do you want from me, Hayden?” she asked when she realized he was staring down at her.
He lifted one of his hands and stroked down the side of her face. His touch was gentle. She stood still, fighting the urge to close her eyes and lean into that hand. Hayden had always been so gentle with her.
Something