Chasing Kings (6 page)

The music swelled up, and with it a row of small fountains emerged from the water, lit bright white so it appeared as if the water itself was glowing. Sam stood rapt as the spouts began to bend and arc in time with the music, the water starting low then suddenly shooting up into the air sixty feet, blotting out the view of Paris behind them. A circle in the center of the display rose higher than everything around it, and the mist left behind was illuminated by the lights of the Strip, glowing like fairy dust as it fell to the lake’s surface.

The display continued for five minutes, with the fountains moving with the music, bowing and dipping like a living thing. With one final, triumphant upwards explosion the fountains vanished, leaving the water smooth and calm while the last curtain of mist fell back to the surface. The music died out, and Sam was left only with the hammering sensation inside her chest.

Tourists around them started to move away, leaving the balcony almost clear and the gleaming structure of the Eiffel Tower behind them. The hard rock kicked in again with a whining guitar solo, making Sam’s ears pound in time with her heart.

“Wow,” she said, when she could form words.

“Good wow?”

“Very good wow.”

Ethan smiled, his hand going to her waist as she turned away from the view of the fountain. “Would you say you were…dazzled?”

“I want to lie, because you’re smirking at me like you’ve won the Super Bowl, but I can’t. That was amazing. Consider me thoroughly dazzled.”

“Oh, you’re not
thoroughly
dazzled. Not yet.” His hand tightened on her waist, tugging her closer, and she didn’t feel the urge to resist him. Instead she yielded to his embrace, going willingly as he pulled her body against his.

He was taller than her, which was a delight in and of itself since she was five-foot-nine and often had trouble meeting men who weren’t put off by her stature. Ethan was barely six feet tall, but it was enough of a difference he had to bend his neck to kiss her. The gesture made her feel small and feminine.

His free hand cupped the back of her neck, and his fingers were warm in the desert night air. She trembled when his lips met hers, having difficulty remembering the last time a kiss had made her feel like a nervous schoolgirl.

Ethan didn’t kiss like a porn star, at least not how she’d decided he would based on the movie she’d seen. His lips were soft and gentle, the barest brush against her mouth, and he pecked her once, then lingered longer the second time.

When it seemed as if he might pull away, leaving her wanting, Sam reached out and held his face between her nerve-dampened palms, keeping him locked in place. Her tongue grazed his lower lip, and in its wake she nipped him lightly, then hesitated, afraid he might be spooked by her forwardness.

She felt his smile, though she couldn’t see it, and he whispered, “I knew there was a bad girl in there.”

He pushed his body firmly into hers, his grip on her neck tightening as he deepened the kiss from his end. His tongue delved into her mouth, teasing hers with a wicked curl and sending sparks of pleasure rioting through her body. He tilted his head for a better angle, forcing her mouth wider, and she drank in his unique flavor as her tongue brushed his. Ethan Silver tasted like pure lust—spicy and dangerous—and she couldn’t get enough.

He pulled away after a minute, and Sam made a small noise of protest. Ethan kissed the tip of her nose, his cheeks flushed, his smile sweet.

“
Now
you’re properly dazzled.”

And damn if the cheeky devil wasn’t right.

Chapter Seven

The Provocateur Suite was dark when Ethan returned, his head still buzzing from the heady flavor of Sam’s kiss lingering on his lips. He hadn’t expected one kiss to knock him for such a loop, but the way she yielded to him and the eager need she conveyed with only her mouth set his whole body aflame.

He’d walked Sam to her room with the promise that he’d show her more impressive sights the next afternoon—though he didn’t yet know where he planned to take her. She’d kissed him good night, and damn if he wasn’t excited about seeing her again.

Kelly hadn’t arrived, meaning she was probably off doing something she’d regret later—either coke or a megalomaniac producer. If that was the case, it was anyone’s guess when she’d show up. Assuming she showed up at all.

He chucked his leather jacket on the sofa in the living room and was about to head for the bed when a lamp on the corner table clicked on. Ethan’s heart stopped. A man in a charcoal-gray suit was seated on the couch, his arm stretched across the backrest, displaying his best approximation of boredom.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d skipped town,” the man said, crossing his legs and lighting a cigarillo. His salt-and-pepper hair was thin and slicked back, and the sharp angles of his nose and chin made him seem more like a feral animal than a human.

He blew out a plume of purplish smoke and narrowed his black eyes at Ethan. “Aren’t you going to say hello, Ethan? A dear old friend shows up out of the blue, and you don’t have a kind word to say?”

“Hello, Julian.”

“It’s a real shame you missed the party tonight. I was hoping to have a chat with you.”

“I didn’t feel like going to one of Antoine’s parties.”

“The girls were sad. You’re always so popular.” Julian took another puff off his smoke and let the cloud slide from his lips like a wispy snake. “And since when did
you
decide whether you could or couldn’t go to my and Antoine’s parties?”

“You’re taking credit for them now?” Ethan looked at the front door, wondering if he had a shot in hell of making it. There was no point in running. Julian might come across as calm, but Ethan had been introduced to the snub-nosed revolver Julian carried and didn’t feel like renewing the acquaintance tonight.

He sat on the couch as far from Julian as he could get and tried to stay calm. So far they were just talking, and the older man could be content to talk for a good long time as long as he wasn’t being talked
back
to.

“I think you and I both know who’s in charge here. You knew what you were signing on for. You stupid kids think you’ll find a loophole, you think I don’t know all the shitty tricks you’re going to pull. I know all the excuses. I know all the lies. You can’t fuck me over, Ethan. I own you.”

“You don’t
own
me. I owe you ten grand. Once that’s paid off, you and I are done. Just like that.”

Julian snapped his fingers. “
Just like that?
You think it’s going to be so simple?”

No, of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

If you owed Julian five dollars, you might as well be signing your soul over to the devil. Ethan had known what he was getting into when Kelly had asked to borrow the money, and he’d known it was a bad idea, but at the time a bad idea was better than nothing.

He knew how wrong he’d been now.

“I can get you the money.”

“You know I’m in no hurry.” A smoke ring floated high into the air, a dirty halo hovering over them both. It was oddly fitting given their surroundings. “I have plenty of uses for you. Provided you meet your end of the bargain.”

“I said I’d pay you. I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t know if I like your tone, Ethan.”

Ethan dug his short nails into the soft skin on his palms, letting the bite of pain override any fear he might feel from being alone in a room with Julian. He’d asked for a thirty-day loan on the money, promising a full return in that time.

The problem was nothing had gone as planned since he’d gotten the cash. Kelly had assured him she knew someone who was making a movie without studio backing, but she was
sure
it was going to be a hit. They needed some upfront capital, and she thought Ethan might want in.

He’d been expecting a big payday on a project of his own but didn’t have the funds immediately available, and Kelly had made it sound like a can’t-miss opportunity.

So he’d borrowed.

Now Kelly was somewhere in the wind, probably high off her ass on however much cocaine ten grand could buy, and Ethan was hoping like hell he could cover the scratch before his thirty days were up.

The clock was ticking, though, and Julian had expectations that went along with his loans. Things he expected people to
do
to earn their keep, in lieu of charging interest. It was sort of a flesh tax he liked to apply whenever he loaned money, and Kelly had claimed it was why she hadn’t gone for the loan herself.

Ethan had heard a thing or two about Julian’s bargains, but they hadn’t seemed so bad to him at the time. Julian threw sex parties at Antoine Parks’s L.A. mansion or a rental suite in a five-star hotel somewhere in Vegas, depending on the clientele. People looking for a nasty thrill or some down-and-dirty sex with a famous adult-film star would pay top dollar to get into one of these parties, and Julian was obviously pocketing a huge chunk of the revenue.

Twenty-five days into the loan and Ethan had been called in for two of these parties already. The first had been okay, a little weird but strange was par for the course in Ethan’s life. He’d done a few things he might not have otherwise, but if it was a one-time thing, he could handle it. Then the second call came in, and Ethan went, though this time he’d had his reservations.

After the second party he knew he never wanted to do it again, so when the third call came in, he left L.A., using the video awards as an excuse and hoping it would fly.

He should have known better.

Julian thought he was the master, and when Ethan didn’t come to his call, things were bound to get messy. Ethan had hoped he could get away long enough to recoup the losses, but it looked like Lady Luck wasn’t on his side tonight.

“I’ll get it,” Ethan said again, hoping the third time might be the charm.

“I’m sure you will. But let’s say you have until the end of the week, shall we? I feel like I might want to do some shopping while I’m in town, and that money would help me buy a lot of shiny things.”

“Three days?” It wasn’t necessarily impossible, but
improbable
wasn’t a stretch. How the hell was he supposed to come up with ten grand in seventy-two hours?

“And don’t think you’re going to win your way into a jackpot, either. I have friends. Friends who owe me favors you couldn’t imagine. Every pit boss in this city has you on their most-wanted list, so consider your free pass to the casinos officially terminated.”

“What the hell? How do you think I’m going to get that kind of money, then?” He knew better than to talk back, but in the moment all Ethan felt was a furious rage, making it impossible to keep his mouth shut.

Julian rose to his feet and stubbed out his cigarillo on the arm of the sofa, burning a hole clean through the leather.

“Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe you can sell your body.”

Chapter Eight

It went without saying that the moment Ethan navigated his rental car away from the Strip, Sam started hearing the lyrics to Sheryl Crow’s “Leaving Las Vegas” in her head.

When he’d come to her room earlier that afternoon, her immediate fear was that he regretted kissing her. He had seemed distracted and unhappy, but when she’d pressed him for details, he’d gone quiet, not giving her any indication of what was upsetting him. Since the only thing that had happened before they’d returned to the hotel the previous evening was their kiss, she assumed that had to have a hand in his foul mood.

She couldn’t figure out
why
though. When he’d walked her to her door, he’d been cheerful and almost obnoxiously charming. And the way he’d kissed her before parting ways for the night? Well…she’d nearly taken back her
no sex
rule right then and there.

Was
that
what was bugging him? That she hadn’t invited him in for a roll in the sheets after his evening tour of the Vegas Strip? If so, he wasn’t the kind of man she thought she’d been getting glimpses of. The Ethan she was coming to know wasn’t at all the type of person she’d imagined a male porn star to be. He was clever, and kind and romantic in unexpected ways. He made her
want
to spend more time with him.

Sam sincerely hoped that wasn’t just a big show to get in her pants. She knew some guys would go to impressive lengths to bed a girl, but Ethan got to have sex literally whenever he wanted. It was his
job
. She liked to think he wasn’t playing games with her, because the previous night had honestly been one of the most romantic evenings Sam could recall ever spending with a guy.

It was also the first time she’d seen a guy’s cock
before
the first date. Come to think of it, it was the first time she’d been on a date with a guy whom she’d seen naked but hadn’t actually slept with.

Weird.

She shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, waiting for him to break the silence. They’d been driving for about fifteen minutes, and he still hadn’t told her where they were going.

The farther out of the city they got, the more her worries from the previous night about being alone with a stranger began to nag at her. After all, in the
CSI
episodes she’d watched, things never went well for the wide-eyed out-of-towner.

She bit her thumbnail and tried not to imagine being murdered in the desert.