He sat back, his shoulders tensing, and showed excessive interest in the antics of two teenagers who had just joined their parents at a nearby table.
She waited for him to respond but he seemed willing to let the subject drop. “Do you have a problem dealing with me?”
He sent her a quick frown. “No. Why should I?”
“You seem agitated.”
The slow lazy smile was instantly back. “Actually, I’m going to enjoy working with you.”
Karrie didn’t quite believe it. Something had gotten him riled, but it was hard to think about much more than the way one side of his mouth always hiked up a tad before he actually smiled, or the way crisp dark hair curled at the open neck of his shirt.
She grabbed her glass of iced tea, mostly watered down but there was still some ice left, and enjoyed the cool moisture against her palm. Time to change the subject, get him back to his earlier calm. “Good God, I don’t remember it being so hot this early in June.” She fisted her hair, lifted it off her neck, and then with her moistened hand cupped the heated skin at her nape.
His gaze went to her throat, traveled to her scoop neckline, flickered lower for a moment before he met her eyes. “It’s really not that hot yet. Besides, it’s air-conditioned in here.”
“Yeah, but the patio doors are open,” she murmured, feeling a whole new wave of heat flushing her skin.
“Wait until late July and August.”
“Thankfully, I won’t be here.”
He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “Have you been back since college?”
“Once.”
“To visit family?”
“Yeah, but they’re gone now, too. My brother is in Germany and my mom remarried.”
“So you have no reason to come back.”
“None. I like my life in New York.”
“Even during the winter?”
“Especially during the summer.”
He smiled. “Have you noticed many changes yet?”
“Traffic is horrible.”
“That’s an understatement. Where are you staying?”
“The Hilton.”
“The Flamingo Hilton?”
“No, I wanted to stay off the strip. In fact, if I’d made the reservation myself I would have stayed farther out.”
“This place has grown so much, any farther out would have to be Searchlight.”
“Funny.”
“You think I’m kidding?”
She took another sip of wine, thinking back on the harrowing taxi ride from the airport. The area had really grown in the five short years since she’d been back. An entire beltway had sprung up. She couldn’t help but wonder how or if Searchlight had been affected by this population explosion.
Were the trailers still there? Or had houses replaced them? Maybe there was even a high school there now, instead of the kids having to be bused over to Boulder City. Not that she was curious enough to make the fifty-mile trip to see for herself.
A wave of nostalgia took her by surprise. For years she hadn’t thought about the converted carport where her mother had supported them by cutting and perming the hair of half the women in Searchlight. Or the combination drugstore-diner-gas station where Karrie used to bag Mr. Donner’s trash every day to earn vanilla-and-chocolate-swirl ice-cream cones. Yet the images were all crystal clear.
The waitress brought their food and Rob immediately dug into his seafood lasagna. Not as hungry as she thought she was, Karrie eyed her shrimp and fettuccine with less enthusiasm than when she’d ordered it.
“Hey.”
She looked up at him.
“Something wrong with your dinner?”
“No.” She picked up a fork, not wanting to examine her sudden melancholy.
He hesitated, and then said, “Weird coming home again, huh?”
“Not really. All these people moving here.” She shook her head. “I totally don’t get it.”
“They come for the bright lights and excitement.” His teasing grin lifted her spirits and tightened her tummy.
“We have that and much more in Manhattan.”
“Have you seen some of the new resorts on the strip?” he asked, keeping her gaze locked to his.
“You offering a tour?”
“Yeah.”
She took a big bite of shrimp pasta. There was time enough tomorrow to talk about land and digs and Sanax. Tonight was hers, and she intended to use it in the best way possible. “I’m game,” she said, hoping like hell he understood that she wasn’t talking about a tour.
3
“I FEEL LIKE I’M AT A REAL BEACH instead of at a casino.”
“That’s the idea.” Rob smiled at the look of amazement on Karrie’s face as she watched the electronically generated waves crash to shore. The beach at Mandalay even had lifeguards on duty. The mega resort was one of the newer kids on the block, vying for business by making Las Vegas a family destination.
“Okay, I’m totally impressed.” She turned to look at him suddenly, her hazel eyes sparkling and golden, and he had the dangerous urge to haul her against him and kiss that wide lush mouth.
“You’re easy.”
“Hey, don’t get personal.”
Hell, pretty, great legs and a sense of humor. “Wait until you see the Shark Reef.”
“Would it still be open?” she asked, glancing at her watch and trying to stifle a yawn.
“I forgot you’re still on East Coast time.”
“No problem. I’m not ready to go to bed yet.”
It was an innocuous remark. Certainly not one that could conjure such an erotic scene in his head. Karrie, sprawled out on his bed, naked, her back arching off the mattress, her golden red hair spread out like wildfire.
He shoved away from the railing they looked over. “Why don’t I take you back to your hotel?”
“I have a better idea.” She turned to face him, light coming from behind him glistening off her glossy pink lips. “Why don’t I buy you a drink as thanks for showing me around tonight?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“Do you realize it’s after midnight your time?”
“I’m a pretty bright girl. I figured that out all by myself.”
“I don’t remember you being such a smart-ass.”
She laughed. “I’m surprised you remember me at all. You acted like you had on invisible blinders. Your attention went from the blackboard to the back of the room and didn’t stop anywhere in between unless someone raised their hand.”
“Right.”
“It’s true. Did you know we all suspected that you were gay?”
“We?”
“Some