Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (23 page)

She glances around at the plaid fabric seat covers then up to where his head brushes the ceiling. “It’s hideous, and it’s too small for you. We should take it back and get a normal car.”

“Now you’re hurting my feelings. You don’t really want to return this sleek sex machine, do you?”

“Sex machine!” She laughs out loud. “There’s no way anybody ever got laid in this car. Trust me.”

“Is that a challenge?” He grins and holds her gaze for a long moment. The shirt he’s wearing makes the blue in his eyes stand out.

“You think you could seduce me in this horrible shit-colored car? Seriously?”

“I believe I could manage it.”

She smirks. “Good luck with that.”
Good luck with ever seducing me again, in fact.

“Care to place a wager?”

“You don’t want to gamble with me.”

He shrugs. “Sure I do, why not? We
are
in Las Vegas, after all.”

Against her better judgment, she decides to go along with him. “All right, let’s hear it.” She crosses her legs and lets her eyes roam over him. “What’s the bet?”

“Sometime before we leave Las Vegas, I’ll seduce you while we’re in this car.”

“In
this
car, for real?” She points down at the faded plaid seat.

“That’s right.”

“And if I win the bet and you don’t manage to seduce me, what do I get?”

“That depends. What do you want?”

Lindsay thinks it over. There’s only one thing that comes to mind. “You have to tell me everything I want to know.” She’s not even sure why she’s saying it, but something compels her forward. “Any question I ask you about yourself, you have to answer honestly.”

His eyes widen, and it’s clearly not what he was expecting. He rubs his jaw and seems wary. “I was really thinking more along the lines of buying you earrings or something.”

“Come on, you think I’d make it that easy?”

“No.” He chuckles and glances out the window. “You’re always a surprise.” He turns back to her, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “What do I get if I win?”

“The pleasure of seducing me, of course. And I should tell you, after that shit you pulled in Berlin last week, it’s not going to happen.”

Giovanni goes quiet and appears to be thinking things over. “Here’s what I want.” He leans toward her. “I want you to tell your sister about your poker playing.”

“What?” She stares at him with dismay. “You need to mind your own business. That has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re keeping a secret from someone you care about. It’s a mistake. Believe me, I know. You need to tell her the truth.”

“God.” She rolls her eyes. “How could I have already forgotten what an egotistical ass you are? You picked me up, what, twenty minutes ago? And you’re already trying to run my life?”

“You know I’m right, Lindsay.”

She shakes her head and turns away from him, annoyed.

“So, do we have a wager or not?” he asks.

She doesn’t say anything, reflecting on his words. The truth is she does need to tell Natalie about the poker. It was easy to hide it in Berlin, but she already knows how difficult it will be if she’s hitting the tables in Seattle again. She’s always had her secrets, and it was a way of life for them growing up, but she’s tired of all that, and she especially hates keeping secrets from Natalie.

Then she thinks about Giovanni. How is it that a well-respected surgeon could be so messed up about women? He’s been traveling and working in all these dangerous places for years, but she suspects he’s been hiding in them too. But hiding from what?

“All right,” she says. “I’m all in.”

It’s nearly nightfall, and the Strip is lit up bright and garish as always.

Lindsay tries to ignore the onslaught of emotions gripping her as they drive past some of her old stomping grounds, the casinos she and her friends used to sneak into back in high school. They’d gamble—mostly slots—until the security guards caught them and threw them out. She’d tried playing poker with a fake ID a few times, but too many people knew who she was.

When she was a kid and her father was still alive, he used to take her with him to Fremont Street, to the Horseshoe and the Golden Nugget. Old-style Las Vegas that doesn’t exist anymore. Tables with stacks of chips and men drinking booze as they played poker for hours on end. Cash games with thousand-dollar buy-ins. You’d find some of the world’s greatest poker players in those smoke-filled rooms, and her dad was one of them.

It wasn’t a place for children. In fact, she doubts she was even supposed to be there, but she loved it. She’d hang out with the waitresses, who were always nice to her. They’d set her up with a Shirley Temple to sip on. There was always one who was particularly nice. At the time, Lindsay didn’t realize it, but it was usually one of her dad’s girlfriends.

“Here we are,” Giovanni says as they drive past the Bellagio’s large fountain to reach the main entrance.

She glances around, taking in all the glitz and glam, and the large number of tourists. They stop for the valet, and she’s pretty sure she hears the guy snicker when Giovanni hands him the keys to their car.

Once they’re upstairs and inside the room, she’s amazed.

“Wow.” She walks over to the huge floor-to-ceiling window looking out on the fountain and the Paris Hotel across the street. “I have to admit, you don’t mess around when it comes to hotel rooms, do you?”

“Glad you like it. It’s the honeymoon suite.”

Lindsay whirls around. “It is?”

“We
are
getting married, after all.”

His expression is so grim she wants to laugh at the absurdity. “Your face looks just like I feel.”

“I’m only worried. I hope this still works.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spoke to Paul’s brother, Phillip, yesterday.” He shakes his head. “Apparently, the new government is tightening things, and fewer people are being allowed to enter and leave the country. It could pose a problem for the adoption.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to get married as planned. Phillip’s lawyer has already drawn up all the paperwork. There’s no reason to give up hope, but I just thought you should know.”

She nods. “I see. Okay.” She studies him. “Can you tell me why you’re really doing this? I know you want to help those kids, but we’re getting
married
. That’s no small thing.”

“What Paul did for me years ago was also no small thing.”

“But what was it? Did he save your life or something?”

Giovanni takes a deep breath. “In a way, he did. I don’t know if I’d even be a doctor today if Paul hadn’t helped. Definitely not a surgeon.”

“What did he do?”

He opens his mouth but then closes it. A little smile tugs on the corners. “I don’t have to answer your questions unless you win that bet.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Hey, that was the wager.”

“You’re definitely going to lose. In fact,”—she puts her hand on her hip and glances around the room—“despite this being the honeymoon suite, you should know we won’t be sharing a bed anymore. I hope that couch is comfortable.”

He blinks in surprise. “Why not?”

“You already know why.”

He studies her a moment before looking away. “I see. So you really are still angry.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She barrels forward. “You can’t just leave me alone in a hotel room with a credit card like some kind of hooker!”

His eyes go back to hers. “It wasn’t like that and you know it.”

“It’s how you made me feel.”

He seems genuinely mystified. “We wanted each other. There’s nothing more to it than that. And I left you that credit card because you admitted you were nearly broke after being robbed.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up before leaving?”

“I already told you. I didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so hard.”

“That’s bullshit!”

The natural flush on his cheeks goes from pink to red. His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t fucking lie, okay? That’s the second time you’ve done that to me, but it’s also the last because I won’t let it happen again.”

He nods. His expression is hard, but there’s something else there, and she suspects he’s upset about more than just sleeping with her again.

“It’s never like this for you, is it?” She watches him closely. “You never have to see the women again and deal with their anger. But here I am, and you don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way,” he says stiffly. “But you’re overreacting.”

“No, I’m not.” She goes over to where he left her suitcase by the desk and grabs the handle, pulling it behind her toward the bedroom where she sees a large king-sized bed. “I’m taking a shower and then I’m going to sleep. Alone.”

It’s dark when Lindsay wakes up, and for a moment, she’s disoriented, though she senses it’s still night. There’s movement beside her and then someone—Giovanni—switches on the bedside lamp.

She’s lying on her back and covers her eyes with her forearm. “Turn that light off.”

He sits beside her on the bed. “Do you remember what I told you back in Berlin?” His voice is low. “How I couldn’t give you anything more?”

“I remember.”

“It was the truth. I never meant to hurt you, Lindsay.”

She takes her arm away and looks up at him. “Maybe not, but after everything we went through that day and then spending the night together, you shouldn’t have left like you did.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I haven’t been in a real relationship with a woman in years.” He’s wearing his usual tense expression, and it’s clear he’s struggling with something. “I’m just not . . . able to.”

“Why?”

He only shakes his head, licks his lips. “I want to. In fact, I wish I could.”

His eyes stay on hers. Against her better judgment, she reaches out and puts her hand on his cheek, moving her fingers lightly up over his brow. His skin feels warm beneath her touch.

She caresses his face. So handsome, and strong too. Even in his vulnerability, Giovanni emits a kind of resilience.

“I can’t let you treat me like that.” She puts her hand back down. “You have to know that.”

“Of course.” He nods, his expression sober. “I understand.”

“What happened to you? There must be something, because you’re so capable in every other way. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s the dichotomy, isn’t it?” He lets out his breath. “But it’s a long story.”

“I don’t mind long stories.”

He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

They gaze at each other, the lamp casting their shadows across the wall. She wishes things were different, wishes he were easier. Wishes he was like all the other guys, the ones who follow her lead, fall at her feet and don’t need fixing. But then she wonders if she’d want him as much if he were easy.

Probably not
.

“I’d like to show you something,” he tells her, a smile pulling on his mouth. “It’s out in the other room.”

She sits up on her elbows. Her eyes go to the drawn curtains, where there’s definitely no light peeking through. “What time is it?”

“It’s just after midnight.”

“Are you serious?” She groans and flops back down. “No wonder I’m still exhausted. I need to sleep.”

“You can, but first come see this.”

“See what? Can’t it wait till morning?”

“Trust me, it’s worth waking up for. At least come out and meet them.”

“Them?” She sits up all the way. “Who are you talking about?”

“Joseph and Sara, Paul’s kids. I’m going to Skype with them in a few minutes.”

Her brows go up. She climbs out of bed and follows him into the suite’s living room area, noticing how his laptop is set up on the coffee table, stacked on a couple of phone books.

He takes a seat on the couch in front of the computer. “I figured you might want to meet the kids you’re helping before we get married.”

“You’re calling them right now?”

“Yes. They’re about thirteen hours ahead, so it’s midday for them. I texted Joseph to let him know.”

She sits beside him on the couch. “They have cell phones over there?”

Giovanni nods, focusing on his computer. “You’ve never done any traveling in Africa, I take it?”