Negligee Behavior (2 page)

A choir teacher? Hell, when was the last time he’d met a choir teacher? But in an odd sense, it fit.

He folded his arms across his chest. “All right, Miss Choir Teacher, why did you run from your wedding?”

She blinked, and then looked away. “What makes you think I’m running from my wedding?”

What, was she kidding him? “The fact that you’re in a wedding dress is a pretty good clue. So either you A) married the guy and decided to take off without him. Or B) left him hanging at the altar.”

She stayed silent for a moment before she gave a short nod. “B.”

“Ah.” He shifted. Definitely the more complicated answer. “Do you…want to borrow my cell and give him a call? Or leave him a message at the hotel or something?”

“Why?” She reared back, eyes wide with alarm.

“Well, what’s your plan from here?”

“Plan? Yeah, like I really had a plan when I bailed on my wedding.” She drew her lip between her teeth and frowned. “I just…need time to figure things out.”

How did she make that look so seductive? The biting the lip thing.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your hotel?” His voice came out more gruff than intended.

“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “That’s the first place Gordon will look for me.”

“
Gordon
? No wonder you ran.”

“Nice.” She wrinkled her nose at him and then sighed. “I…I, oh God, I don’t know what to do.”

She looked so lost, so uncertain, that the pity returned in full force. He thrust a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, not sure how to deal with her. Pity wasn’t exactly a familiar emotion to him. He was a born and bred hard ass. But the idea of just ditching her…

So much for heading home and watching the game.

“Well, you do owe me that beer, princess.”

Those full lips came together in a perfect O shape. His attention lingered there a little too long. She may not be his type, but her mouth sure was.
Stop with the perverted thoughts.

She seemed a bit surprised by the offer, but also relieved. The visible tension in her body eased and she fidgeted with the front of her dress. “Okay. Where did you want to go?”

“There’s a bar in the hotel. You up for it?”

“I’m…yeah.” She nodded. “I’m up for it.”

He hooked their helmets over the back of his bike.

“You haven’t told me your name yet.” She pointed out as they walked to the elevators that led down to the casino.

“Marco.”

“Marco what?”

“Vargas. Did you want to do a background check on me?”

“Vargas from Vegas? Cute.”

“Right. Like I’ve never heard that one before.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I guess I’ll have to assume you’re not dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Would you really have jumped my bike if you thought I was dangerous, Brandy?” Interesting that she’d used that word. He raised an eyebrow as the elevator doors slid shut, sealing them in together.

Brandy swallowed with difficulty, stepping backward until she hit the opposite wall of the elevator. Yikes. Was this a good idea? She was alone in an elevator with this stranger. This stranger who seemed to fill the elevator with just his presence. What did he say his name was again? Vargas from Vegas, she remembered that….Mark? No, Marco. Like Marco Polo.

Why was she so physically aware of him? She caught the image of herself in the mirrored elevator and winced. Lord, she stared at him like he was a decadent truffle. Something sinful, but oh so worth it. She’d never looked at Gordon that way. Then again Gordon wasn’t really the type to inspire such sinful thoughts. He was more like the granola bar you ate to help you stay regular.

“Brandy?”

Goose bumps broke out on her body as his deep, rough voice stroked over her name again. Yes, this man was dangerous, maybe not guns, knives and bombs dangerous, but dangerously attractive for sure. With his black hair just brushing his shoulders, nearly black eyes, olive skin, he looked Italian? Latino? It was hard to say. From the second she’d taken off his helmet, she knew she was in trouble.

“Do you think I’m dangerous, Brandy?” he asked again.

“Well I would hesitate to call you safe.” How did her voice manage to sound so breathy? That was so not like her.

She couldn’t flirt to save her life. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. There was a stack of self-help books on dating, flirting and being a sexual goddess under her bed at home. All covered in at least an inch of dust by now.

Marco took a step closer to her. “You’re right. I’m not.”

Before she could reply, the elevator dinged signaling their arrival. Brandy stepped away and rushed out first, a little disappointed and not quite sure why.

Looking over her shoulder, she made sure Marco still followed and hadn’t yet blown her off. What the…

“Hey! Will you stop staring at my butt?”

“Sorry, it’s habit.” Marco lifted his eyes and shrugged.

Her cheeks warmed.
Easy, Brandy
. Besides, it wasn’t like he could see anything beneath the dress.

She forced herself to look away and drew in an unsteady breath. Oh, he was trouble with a capital T.

She shook her head as they made their way through the casino. The fluorescent lights and ringing slot machines added to the chaos that already ran rampant in Brandy’s head.

Spotting the bar near the back, she weaved through the mass of people and entered the small section that was somewhat secluded from the main room.

Sitting down at the table, she watched Marco pull out a seat across from her. But he didn’t sit in it like a normal person, instead he turned the chair around and swung his legs over it, resting his palms on the metal frame.

“What can I get you both to drink?” A waitress passing their table called out.

“I’ll have a piña cola—” Marco broke off. “A stout beer.”

Brandy’s mouth twitched. “Do you like getting caught in the rain, too?”

The waitress let out a sharp laugh and then cleared her throat. “And for you?”

“I’ll have a white zinfandel, please. One of your nicer labels.”

“Well, these are on me, guys. Congratulations to you both.” The waitress winked and walked off, her bottom nearly showing under the tiny skirt.

“Congratulations?” Brandy looked back at Marco, who stared off into the casino looking uncomfortable.

“She thinks we just got married. Hell, it’s free drinks so I’m not going to complain.”

“But—but it’s not true. Wave her down, get her back here! We need to explain that we’re not married.”

He looked away from the casino floor and arched a brow. “So you want to explain your situation to the waitress when you haven’t even told me what’s going on? Be my guest, princess.”

Well, when he put it that way. She scowled and folded her arms across her chest. How could she explain why she ran from her impromptu wedding, when she wasn’t even sure herself? The image of Gordon running after her sent an uneasy shudder through her.

“I just don’t really want to talk about it now,” she hedged. “But I’m sure I’ll be feeling much chattier after a drink or two.”

“I never discourage a woman from drinking,” he told her with a grin as their drinks were set down in front of them.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Brandy picked up her wine and took a long swallow, savoring the warmth that slid down her throat.

She wasn’t a lightweight–it would take at least a couple more glasses before she was even buzzed. She didn’t drink a lot, but, thanks to overindulgence at a teachers’ Christmas party two years ago, she knew her limits.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” she asked after taking another drink.

His eyes darkened, became unreadable. “What do you want to know?”

“Umm, what do you do for a living?”

“I co-own a bar with a friend.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after downing half his beer in one swallow.

Brandy stared at a drop he’d missed and had the outrageous urge to lean forward and lick it off his upper lip. Oh, she was so out of line. She needed to stop this. She certainly wasn’t on the lookout for a man, especially after she’d just run out on the one she had.

Besides, he was the complete opposite of her type. She dated doctors and lawyers…and dentists for reality television shows.
This
guy was just not exactly the type of guy you brought home to meet your mother.

“So a bar?” She still watched his mouth. “Is it a biker bar?”

“We get bikers, but don’t cater exclusively to them if that’s what you mean.” He shrugged and she noticed the way his T-shirt tightened over his broad shoulders. “We get all walks of life.”

“I see.” She fiddled with her necklace.

Marco’s focus dropped to her neck and then lower, seeming to hover on her chest before he looked away.

Brandy’s pulse kicked up a notch and she closed her eyes. Surely he hadn’t been looking at her breasts because he was interested in them. And the warmth spreading through her body now had to be from the wine. She bit her lip. Although it was a bit harder to dismiss the way the tips of her breasts had tingled under his brief perusal.

Just what kind of lover would Mr. Marco Polo be? She opened her eyes again and looked at him. Probably ten times better a lover than Gordon. When they’d first started dating she’d been so overwhelmed with how into her Gordon had been. He’d charmed her, flirted outrageously, but when they’d ended up in bed the sex had been a little…tepid. Anticlimactic. Gordon breezed by the erogenous zones on a woman’s body and made love like he was trying to beat the clock.

She slid her gaze over Marco’s broad shoulders and another shiver of awareness ran through her. Marco was probably a man who liked to take his time. Would know his way around a woman’s body… The thought made her smile.

“I’d love to know what you were thinking about just now,” Marco said. “To have put such a look on your face.”

“And what kind of look is that?” Brandy shook her head to clear it. She reached for her wine glass and took a long drink.

“The look of a woman who’s thinking about getting laid.”

Brandy choked on her wine and set the glass down again. “You think I had the look of…”

“Yeah.” He lifted his beer and took another drink. “It was definitely the kind of look that said—”

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Vargas.” Flustered, she reverted to her best teacher tone. Since the moment she’d jumped on the back of his bike and wrapped her arms around his six-pack abs, rational thoughts had been absent in her head.

“Mr. Vargas?” Marco laughed and shook his head. “Come on,
Brandy
, don’t you think we’re a little past the formal stuff? After all, you did hijack my bike.”

“It was an emergency!”

“You ready to tell me about it?”

Not at all
. Brandy downed the rest of her wine. “How about another one of these first?”

“Sure.” Marco finished his beer and stood up, then gave her a considering look. “You know, you look a little familiar. Are you from around here?”

“No, I’m not.” She quickly looked away.

Oh God. Did he recognize her? Most people didn’t. The paparazzi had bigger fish to fry. Most of the time. Though things had begun to change when she’d started dating Gordon.

Marco excused himself and walked up to the bar, apparently not wanting to wait for the waitress to return to order another round of drinks.

She watched him go and her eyes slid over his backside. Hmm. Impressive there, too. Gordon’s butt was so flat it was almost inverted, not to mention so white it nearly glowed.

She probably wouldn’t have to worry about the glow-in-the-dark skin with Marco. Would his skin be that beautiful shade of brown all over, or was it just kissed from the Nevada sun? If she ever got him naked, she’d find out.

Wait a minute. Get Marco naked? Hello, hold up there!
She put up a mental stop sign. No more of those thoughts. Jeez. It had to be the wine. She couldn’t possibly be thinking about…

Besides, he might already have a girlfriend. Or, yikes, a wife? She hadn’t even checked out his ring finger yet. Good lord, could he hurry back with the wine already?

When he did, she locked her vision on his left hand, found it empty and relaxed a little bit more. Until she noticed that he held not a glass of wine, but an entire bottle in his hand. She gave him a sharp look.

“I figure it’ll save us time in the long run.”

“Oh.” She almost asked why he didn’t get a pitcher of beer for himself, and then realized he was probably thinking about driving home.

Where was home for her tonight? If she returned to L.A., Gordon would find her immediately. And she really, really didn’t want to be found until she could figure out what she wanted.

She decided not to think about it right now and slid her empty glass towards Marco. He obliged her silent request and filled her glass, before she pulled it back from him and took a big swallow.

She immediately looked back at the bottle and sucked in a sharp breath. The label on the bottle was not unfamiliar, and this was no cheap bottle of wine he’d bought her.

“What do you think?” he asked, noticing her reaction.

“It’s wonderful.” She took another, slower sip. Somewhat hesitant to disrespect such a great bottle of wine by using it to get trashed. “I’ll pay you back of course….Oh God.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my purse.”

“It’s on me, don’t worry about it.”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, thank you, but I have no money, no identification. It’s all locked up in our room.” She started to panic. “What am I going to do? Oh God, I need my purse!”

“Easy, Brandy.” He took her hand in his and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “We’ll get it back. Which hotel are you staying at?”

Her heart, already speeding, kicked up another notch at his touch. “The MGM.”

“Perfect, we’re right across from it. All right, here’s the plan,” he said, making eye contact with her. “We call the hotel and find out if Gordon is in your room. If so—”

“We?” she squeaked. “You mean you’ll help me?”

“Do you want to do this on your own? If so, you tell me when to go away and I’ll do it.”