Taking a sip, he looked out over the view sprawling for miles. In the distance, he saw the purple smudge of mountains, crowned by the first stars blinking into life in the night sky. The setting sun still provided an orange glow on the horizon and in the streets far below him, other lights in dizzying colors and patterns glittered and shone like jewels in a treasure chest.
From thirty stories up, Las Vegas was beautiful. Up close and personal, Adam knew that the tattered edges of the city were much easier to spot. Much like his marriage, he thought wryly, taking a long sip of the cold, bubbly wine. From a distance, people would assume that he and Gina had been swept away by passion. Only they would ever know the cold, hard truth.
Which was what, exactly?
“That you’re a hard ass,” he muttered. “Willing to use a woman to get what you want. Ready to create a child and walk away from it without a second thought.”
Surprisingly enough, that little jolt of reality bothered Adam more than he’d thought it would. He scrubbed one hand across his jaw, stared off into the night and reminded himself that this had been Gina’s idea. She wasn’t a victim in this but a willing conspirator.
When his cell phone rang, though, Adam grabbed it, grateful to have something besides his own thoughts to concentrate on. A glance at the screen had him sighing. Flipping the phone open, he asked, “What is it, Travis?”
“What is it?” his brother echoed. “You’re not serious. I just talked to Esperanza and she told me you were in Las Vegas getting married.”
Adam sighed. His housekeeper had a big mouth. “That’s right.”
“To Gina.”
“That’s right.”
“So my invitation got lost in the mail?” Travis demanded.
Setting his champagne glass down on the stone balcony railing, Adam shoved his free hand into his pants pocket and tightened his grip on the phone. “It was a small ceremony.”
“Yeah? I hear her parents were there.”
“And now they’re gone. The jet took them home this afternoon.”
“Uh-huh. Any reason why you didn’t want your family there?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Really? Because what I think is you just married a kid we’ve known all our lives without bothering to tell your brothers.”
“She’s not a kid,” Adam said tightly, his fingers clenching down hard on his phone. “Hasn’t been one for a long time. And since when do I report to you and Jackson?”
“You don’t,” Travis countered. “But there’s something fishy going on here, Adam. This ‘marriage’ of yours wouldn’t have anything to do with getting that damned land, would it?”
There was a long, silent moment as Adam got a tight rein on the temper screaming inside, then Travis muttered, “You really are a son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“She knew what she was doing.” Hadn’t he told himself that over and over again since agreeing to the bargain Gina had offered him?
“I doubt it.”
Shoving his free hand through his hair, Adam shot a look behind him to assure himself that Gina hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet. Then he argued, “You know, Travis, you’re not exactly the poster child for the better treatment of women.”
“That’s not the point,” his brother snapped.
“It’s exactly the point. I don’t tell you to stop squiring bimbos around—or to avoid the damn paparazzi that follow you everywhere. So butt the hell out of my life, little brother.”
“You screw with Gina and her father will make your life a living hell,” Travis warned.
“Because my life now is just rainbows and kittens, right?”
“Damn, Adam,” his brother said on a sigh. “When the hell did you get so cold?”
“When wasn’t I?” Adam asked and snapped the phone closed before Travis could get started again. Then he turned the phone off before Jackson could call and have his say. He didn’t need to hear his brothers’ opinions. He knew going into this what they’d think. And it didn’t matter a damn.
He and Gina were two consenting adults. Their marriage—such as it was—was nobody else’s business.
“Well,” Gina said from behind him. “You look like you want to take a bite out of somebody.”
He turned, schooling his features into the calm, unreadable mask he used with everyone but his brothers. But even as he fought for distance, the sight of her had a hot ball of lust pooling in his belly.
In the pale wash of the soft balcony lights, she looked almost otherworldly. Her nightgown was short, stopping midthigh. A deep, rich red, the satin fabric clung to her skin, outlining every curve and exposing what looked like a mile of leg. The bodice was red lace and it cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands. Her hair hung loose and thick over her shoulders, the untamed curls enticing him. She smelled like heaven—peaches and flowers and the smile she gave him was knowing and nervous at the same time.
“You look,” he said, “beautiful.”
Her smile brightened. “I feel silly.” Then she smoothed one hand over her stomach as if trying to calm butterflies and he wondered if she was regretting making the offer that had brought them to this place.
Adam poured her a flute of champagne and when she took it from him, her fingertips grazed his skin and heat exploded. He ignored it for the moment. “Why silly?”
She waved a hand at her negligee and shrugged. “I went out and bought this, especially for tonight and I probably shouldn’t have. It’s not like this is an ordinary wedding night, is it?”
“No,” he conceded and found he couldn’t take his gaze from her. From the curve of her breasts. From the hard tips of her nipples, pressing against the dark red lace. “It’s not. But it is the beginning of our bargain.”
“True,” she said and took a sip of champagne. Then she licked her bottom lip and everything in Adam tightened painfully.
“And,” he said, taking a swallow himself, “for myself, I can tell you I appreciate your shopping talents.”
Her eyes widened, then she smiled more easily. “Thanks.” Stepping out onto the balcony, heedless of the negligee she wore, she looked out at the view and sighed. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.” But he wasn’t looking at the neon-lit desert or the mountains beyond. He was staring at her. He took another drink of champagne, hoping the icy wine would spill into his blood and cool it off a little. No such luck.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Thanks for flying Mom and Dad here and home again.”
He shrugged. He hadn’t minded bringing Sal and Teresa along, though he also hadn’t been sorry to see them go. Teresa especially. The woman had looked daggers at him all day. “Seemed important that they be there for you.”
“But you didn’t want your brothers?”
He leaned back against the stone railing. “I thought it would be easier all around if we kept it simple.”
“Right,” she said. “Simple. Do they know?”
“About us?” he asked. When she nodded he said, “They do now. Esperanza told them.”
She smiled. “How’d they take it?”
He looked at her and lied. It didn’t matter a damn to him what his brothers thought