She thought it was telling that Hayden hadn’t mentioned his yacht. She wondered if she’d stumbled on to a private thing he liked to keep secret. From running her business she knew how demanding a career like Hayden’s could be. Was the yacht his escape valve? His one place where no one could find him?
She hated the out-of-control feeling. But she couldn’t figure out how to be herself and keep Hayden. It wasn’t that she didn’t think she deserved a man like him. It was just that being back in Vegas reminded her sharply of the girl she’d been. And that girl had too many insecurities.
The phone rang and she finished fastening the leather bustier to the headless mannequin before going to answer it. The scarlet garment had a matching thong and was one of Bêcheur d’Or’s top sellers.
“I approve of the outfit,” Hayden said, his voice low and husky. She smiled to herself.
“Voyeur. I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt.”
“So I like to watch. That’s not a sin.”
But his voice sounded like one, a carnal sin. This morning he’d been low-key, a man biding his time, but not any longer. Shelby felt restless inside and knew that Hayden had to feel it, too.
She ran her hands down the sides of her thighs. She’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt in one of the dressing rooms earlier. Unpacking boxes was sweaty, dirty work. But she liked seeing the store come together.
“Would you bend over a little and run your hands down your backside?” he asked.
“Is that what you want?” she asked, surprised at how easily his voice and words got to her.
“Baby, you know it is.”
She knew that she was playing a dangerous game with Hayden. On a sexual level she’d never been adventurous, never taken any risks. Ha, who was she kidding, she didn’t take any risks with her life.
But now, in Vegas this time, she scarcely knew herself anymore but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to be his fantasy. Leaning forward, she ran her hands down the back of her legs, then tossed her hair and glanced around to where she thought the camera was located.
“How’s that?” she asked, deliberately dropping her voice an octave.
He groaned. “Perfect. Now go slip into that leather number and do exactly the same thing.”
The phone was cordless so she moved over to the mannequin and picked up the red leather bustier from the open box. “Have you ever worn leather undergarments?”
He laughed. “No.”
“You’d have to make it worth my while,” she said, fingering the supple cloth. In truth she liked wearing leather. It made her feel extremely sexy.
“Uncomfortable?”
“Not really, but they don’t hide any imperfections.”
“What imperfections?” he asked in such a way that she knew he didn’t think she had any.
She shrugged. She knew she had them. She spent the majority of her time sitting in an office working. Though she tried to make it to the gym, most days she didn’t.
Her thighs were soft, and no matter how many sit-ups or ab crunches she did, she’d always have a slight swell of a belly. Still, she was happy in her body, it was who she was. She just didn’t like to see herself in bright light. Didn’t like letting anyone see her looking anything but perfect.
“Don’t make me say it out loud,” she said carefully. Looks had always been important. Her mother had drilled that into her through Shelby’s childhood. “Looks are all a woman has when she’s poor,” Terri Paxton would say. But Shelby had found that brains were better than looks.
“Okay, I won’t. Did you make plans for us tonight?” he asked.
Yes, but she was playing her cards close to her chest on this one. “I’m still trying to come up with something you’ll like.”
He was quiet for a long minute and she could hear only the sound of his exhalation over the open line. “I like being with you, Shel. I always have.”
She hugged one arm around her waist and tried not to let the words settle around her heart but they did. She felt a welling of emotion that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “You know the right things to say to make a woman buy leather undergarments.”
He laughed again and she smiled to herself, pushing aside the deep feelings his comment had evoked. She had to keep her balance here.
“That was my plan,” he said.
“I don’t know you well enough,” she replied slowly.
“I’ll show you. Want to spend the night in the casino?”
“I’m not a big gambler. I like to have something to show for my money after I’ve spent it.”
“Like what?”
“Shoes,” she said.
“Shoes? An evening in the casino is better than shoes.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, maybe one thing is better than shoes.”
“Sex?”
“With you,” she said, hanging up the phone. She winked at the camera and put the bustier and matching thong in a gold Bêcheur d’Or’s gift bag and placed it on the counter next to her purse.
Hayden spent the day making arrangements for the World Champion Celebrity Poker Showdown. The televised competition would air next month and the producer and her two production assistants were in Vegas for twenty-four hours to get the layout.
Scott Rivers was one of the best poker players in the world and had been a child star of movies and a television show that had run for fifteen years. He’d grown up on TV and Scott liked to say everyone thought they knew him.
But few did. Even after all this time, Hayden still suspected there was a part of Scott that was kept hidden. Growing up in the spotlight had made Scott something of a chameleon. In fact, Hayden had never seen his friend in a situation that he wasn’t at home in.
Scott was one of the few people who’d seen him at his lowest. And that had forged a relationship in which both men felt comfortable with each other. Scott was one of his closest friends and Hayden was glad he would be visiting soon. Also, talking with the television people was a distraction. Seeing Shelby this morning, flirting with her on the phone and watching her like some lust-crazed man…well, it wasn’t conducive to work.
His cell phone rang as he entered his private elevator. “MacKenzie.”
“Hey, Mac Daddy. You up for poker tonight?” Deacon asked.
“Can’t. Maybe next month when Scott is here.”
“Next month? How about tomorrow night?”
“I’m busy.”
“With whom?”
“Why do you suddenly need something to do in the evenings?”
“Ah, let’s just say that it’s better if Kylie thinks I’m busy.”
“Lying to your wife?”
“No. What are you doing? Dating that redhead in the lingerie store?”
Hayden wished sometimes that he and Deacon weren’t such close friends, but the truth of the matter was, Deacon was one of the few people Hayden allowed himself to care about. “Maybe.”
“Great. Bring her over. We can all have dinner.”
“Can’t. We have plans.”
“Please?”
“What does Kylie have you doing tonight?”