What Happens in Vegas... (10 page)

He should’ve been looking closely for clues, information to tell him how much Evie and his mother had in common…

“It’s funny, you know,” Evie continued, unaware of his brief lapse of attention. “Gwen is the etiquette expert, so you’d think she’d be the one to really worry about, but Uncle Marcus is the real stickler. I love him, but…”

“And your brother?”

“What about him?”

“Does he agree with Marcus about your ‘dramatics’?”

“Will doesn’t care so much that it ends up being news, if you understand my meaning. He doesn’t like the gossip, but it’s not the gossip that bothers him. Uncle Marcus focuses on the gossip, while Will is more focused on
me.
”

“That sounds like a pain. Especially after what I saw last night.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about last night. Will’s a lot of bark, and he tends to forget I’m an adult now, but he’ll come around. He always does.” She sounded sure of that.

“
Always?
You’ve eloped before?”

“No, like I said, this is definitely the
biggest
stunt I’ve pulled, but it’s not the first. And it won’t be the last.”

“Planning to rob a bank or something?” Even with all his doubts and questions about Evie, he was still enjoying himself. She was certainly entertaining.

“Nope, just giving birth barely nine months after the wedding and then getting a divorce. It’s gonna be fun,” she added sarcastically. “That will make everyone’s head explode.”

“So why bother with getting married?”

“Because divorce is too common to be hugely newsworthy. It will get reported, dissected and speculated about, but
ultimately, that’s a family matter very few people can throw stones about.”

Evie might end up in the press a lot, but she also had a savvy understanding of it. “Great. I’ll have your big brother coming after my hide.”

“I’m pretty sure you can hold your own against Will.”

Oddly, he took that as a compliment.

Lowering her voice, she added conspiratorially, “And if it comes down to a fistfight, I got a fifty on you.”

Was she teasing him? This was definitely a different Evie, reminiscent of Las Vegas. He feigned affront. “Only a fifty? Your brother’s got…What? Twenty years on me?”

“Hmm…From what I saw on our marriage license—and happy belated birthday, by the way—it’s closer to fifteen. But you
do
have all that experience in bar fights…Still, I think a fifty is a safe bet.” She grinned broadly at him, turning the charm on high.

“If you’re going to live in Las Vegas, we need to work on your betting skills. You’ll never make any money that way.”

Evie laughed. “Not everyone gambles because they need the money. They gamble for the thrill.”

Very true. And that knowledge would help her immensely in acclimating. “You checked out my birthday on the marriage license?”

“I was curious.” She thought for a minute, then added, “I figured since we were getting married, I should at least know your birthday and middle name.”

He pretended he needed to concentrate to navigate the entrance to the parking deck as a stall for time. Evie must really think he was a first-class bastard if she wasn’t willing to ask even the simplest of questions. “Those aren’t state secrets.”

“Well…” Evie looked at him over the rims of her sunglasses. “You’re not exactly Mister-hey-ask-me-anything.”

How many times had Kevin said much the same thing?
That’s why he and Kevin made a good team—Kevin could do all the talking so he didn’t have to. Unfortunately, Kevin wasn’t here to answer Evie’s questions for him. “Try me.”

She fell silent and he could almost see the gears turning in her head. She must be coming up with something really…

“What’s your favorite color?”

All that thought for
that?
“Black.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s a good color for you. Do you listen to country music?”

This
was Evie’s idea of getting to know each other? His earlier hopes of Evie’s depths were being quickly battered down. “No.”

“Umm…favorite movie?”

“Shaun of the Dead.”

“Really?” Her mouth dropped in disbelief.

“Really. It’s a great movie. Next question.”

He pulled into her parking space and killed the engine. Evie didn’t wait for him to open her door or hold out her hand for her keys. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

She fired her next question as they waited for the elevator. “Cats or dogs?”

“Neither. I’m never home. But you can get one if you like after you settle in.”

A wistful smile flashed briefly. “How about hobbies?”

He fought to keep a straight face. “I collect stamps.”

Evie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me.”

“Of course I am.” He rubbed his arm where Evie smacked him. “Seriously, Evie,
these
are the burning questions you have for me?”

She fiddled with her purse. “I’m trying to get to know you. Since we’re going to be living together…”

“At least that’s settled.”

“Did I have much of a choice?” she challenged, an edge creeping into her voice.

He tried to dull the edge from his own voice even though she was trying his nerves again. Evie barely clutched before she shifted gears. “It’s a free country. I can’t force you to do anything.”

She snorted as he opened the door to her apartment, and she passed him to go inside. She hung her bag on the back of a chair and leaned her hips against the table. Evie frowned as she ran a hand over a large smudge on the shiny finish.

Her handprint. The image of Evie on her back, her hair spilling over the table and off the edge, slammed into him, and he no longer cared about silly get-to-know-you questions. The most important knowledge was that the bedroom was only steps away.

He knew the moment Evie realized what caused that smudge. She jumped up as if she’d been burned. “Wh-what were we talking about? Um…Oh, yeah, um, getting to know each other.”

Evie moved busily around the room, avoiding eye contact as she straightened magazines and fluffed cushions.

“Then it’s my turn now to ask you some questions.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course. My favorite color is blue, and I like dogs and
The Sound of Music
…”

Evie might be willing to waste her Q&A time on shallow topics, but he didn’t have that kind of patience. He needed some answers—some truths—and now was as good a time as he was likely to get. “Those were your questions. Not mine.”

“Oh. Right.”

And there was that unexpectedly quick shift in gears. From teasing, to turned on, to nervous in less than a minute. Now she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and switched gears again. Hands behind her back and chin up, she faced
him as if he was a firing squad. As if she read his thoughts, she smiled weakly. “Fire away.”

Why
did Nick make her so nervous? She felt like a babbling fool half the time—make that
most
of the time—she tried to have a conversation with him. He’d handed her the golden opportunity to ask him all the questions she’d been storing up, and she’d chickened out. She wanted to know,
really
know, this enigmatic man she’d married, but she’d defaulted to stupid questions instead because she was a coward.

Even worse, she had the feeling he knew it.

Oh, and the look on his face when she’d noticed the smudgy handprint on her table. That only made it worse, because it reminded her how she’d ended up here. How much she wanted him to like her for something more than…
ugh.
For something
more
than how they ended up here.

God, she was pathetic. For a minute there, she’d let herself believe their act; that what they were presenting to Will and Gwen and Uncle Marcus and the rest of Dallas had even a grain of truth in it.

It was just too easy to lose sight of the reality of their situation when faced with a memory like last night. How Nick made her feel as if…As if this could be real. Even if it wasn’t.

His voice was hard. “What made you decide to marry me? And what would you have done if I’d said no?”

Nick obviously didn’t have the same yellow streak running through him that she’d recently discovered in herself. He went straight for the tough questions. The kind she didn’t have the guts to ask when they weren’t shouting at each other, and she had an actual chance of getting an answer.

“I decided to marry you for the same reason you decided to marry me. I’m carrying your baby. It’s pretty straightforward.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers together. “And, honestly, I didn’t have a backup plan.”

“Because you always get what you want?” There was that mocking tone again.

If he only knew.
“Hardly. It just didn’t occur to me that you’d say no. You seemed like a decent, upstanding guy who’d want to do the right thing for his child—however unplanned it was.”

That earned her a skeptical look. “Exactly how did you come to this great understanding of my psyche? We didn’t do a whole lot of talking.”

“Just a feeling I had. But look,” she said, trying to sound upbeat, “I was right. And here we are.”

A black eyebrow arched up. “And you don’t think this is an enormous mistake?”

All the time. Definitely every time you look at me like that.
That eyebrow, though…It infuriated her at an elemental level she didn’t quite understand. And his tone. He was just like—

Will.
A clarity she wished she’d had much earlier settled on her shoulders.

Oh,
damn it.
After ten years of butting heads with her brother, somehow she’d managed to find a man just like Will. And she
married
him, for goodness’ sake. No wonder…

Dear God, she needed some
serious
therapy.

But if she could handle her brother…Something inside her solidified, and she found her backbone again. It felt good. “Is it?” she challenged. “You tell me.”

Nick’s other eyebrow joined the first at his hairline, and the shock on his face made her feel much better. Like herself again. She might be Evie Rocco now, but she was still Evangeline Harrison, damn it, and it was high time she remembered that. “Well? Are you going to make me regret this?”

“Me? It was your idea.”

“Yes, you keep reminding me of that, thank you. But no one forced you to the altar at gunpoint. Why is that, Nick? You’ve made it very clear that this wasn’t your idea,
and
that you don’t think it was a very good choice, yet you agreed
pretty quickly.” Oh, she was really getting warmed up now. “Why, Nick? Was it the money? My family’s connections? Planning on expanding to Dallas and figured you could get your foot in the door?”

She was goading him, trying to force him to react, hoping he’d drop a bit of that shield and answer her with some honesty. Nick’s face reddened in anger and his jaw locked, but he didn’t take the bait quite the way she hoped. His voice was dangerously quiet and mocking as he said, “It had nothing to do with your money, Evie. It was all about you.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, an involuntary reaction to his words before the tone fully registered and squashed the feeling.

“I know your type, Evie. Vegas is full of women just like you—rich, beautiful…” He sneered the word, killing the compliment as he stalked toward her. “But spoiled and out only for a good time. Their children make great accessories—until they don’t anymore, and then they’re an inconvenience. I won’t let that happen to my child.”

She held her ground as he got closer and his voice grew even more mocking. “It’s very simple, Evie. Marrying you gave me legal rights to my child—rights I couldn’t be guaranteed as easily otherwise. You aren’t the only one able to make plans, Evie. Marrying you won’t be a mistake—at least not for me. You might come to regret it, but I assure you I won’t, because I’m getting
exactly
what I wanted out of this.”

His words punched her stomach like hard fists, and she wanted to curl into a ball to protect herself—and the baby, too—from such ugliness. She didn’t doubt the truth of the words; she pushed and goaded to get the truth out of him and now she had it.

In her anger, she’d made a tactical error: she couldn’t handle Nick the way she handled Will, and she shouldn’t have tried. Will loved her and acted only in her best interest—however misguided he was about that interest. Nick didn’t
like her, had his own interests to protect, and she’d just backed herself into a very bad corner.

Oh, yes, she’d made a huge mistake. And now she couldn’t find her tongue to say anything at all.

Nick looked her up and down with hot eyes before shaking his head and walking out the door. The sound of the slamming door echoed through her apartment like a gunshot.

Her knees began to wobble and she found a chair before they gave out entirely. At least she now had a reason for why Nick didn’t like her—even if she didn’t quite understand why or how or when he’d made such dramatic judgments about her character.

When would she learn to watch her mouth? Just a few minutes ago they were talking about
movies,
and she’d been so hopeful. But now…

What was she going to do now?

A
TWENTY-MINUTE WALK AROUND
Evie’s neighborhood helped cool his temper, but now he felt exactly like the bastard Evie accused him of being. For someone Evie had called the strong, silent type, he sure had a big mouth.

He knew he lacked patience, but he’d always managed to keep a lid on his temper—even when his patience was pushed to its limits. It was a point of pride with him as well as a business philosophy. Anger led people to say and do stupid things, and hotheads rarely prevailed.

So where was his trademark silence and self-control when it came to Evie? One toss of her hair and he wanted to bend her over the nearest table. Then she’d grin at him and make him laugh. But that determined and stubborn lift of her chin made him want to strangle her.

Tease to tempt to temper with unbelievable speed and zero warning. He’d learned quickly
she
was capable of those extremes, but finding those extremes in himself? Good Lord. Dealing with Evie was like driving a fast car with no breaks around sharp curves while wearing a blindfold.

No wonder he was losing his mind. There just wasn’t another explanation for any of this. Something had to give before they either killed each other or…

Or what?

He and Evie could draw up legal agreements all day long, but those weren’t going to be much use in the day-to-day trenches. How was he supposed to create a decent home for his child when he and Evie kept snapping each other’s heads off?

And Evie was getting more complicated with each passing minute. Accidentally pregnant or not, Evie had looked rather shocked—and offended—when he matter-of-factly informed her he didn’t expect her to be much of a mother.
That
reaction had been real; Evie wasn’t that good of an actress. It was such an honest look, he’d almost felt bad for saying it in the first place.

He shouldn’t. There was too much riding on this bet.

But he did. It was absolutely infuriating.

To make matters worse,
none
of this did a damn thing to damp the fire that burned in his veins for her. It was insult to injury, salt in the wound, to want a woman
that
much even as she tore through his life like a flash flood.

Even now—not half an hour after he’d stormed out of her apartment—he wanted nothing more than to drag her into her bedroom and bury himself in her for the foreseeable future.

What he needed was to get Evie out of his system. Eventually, he’d get enough of her and the drugging, addictive effect she had on him.

Maybe then, he’d be able to think straight again.

Otherwise, this was never going to work. For any of them.

She simply couldn’t go on like this. The stress was tearing her apart—and it couldn’t be good for the baby, either. She and Nick had to come to some kind of real understanding, or else she simply wouldn’t make it a month—much less a year—without killing him or driving herself insane.

She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

Work the problem, Evie.
One step at a time. Right now, the problem looked insurmountable and complex, but that was
because Nick was at the middle.
Work the bits you can, then. Start at the edges.

Where had he gone? Her keys were still on the table, so he didn’t have access to a vehicle…

That’s not your problem. He’s an adult.
He’d come back when he was ready, and hopefully, he would be calmer then. She needed to use this time to get her head together, to formulate a plan. She’d be able to function better if she had some solid ground under her feet. She’d been running on instinct for days now simply trying to mitigate the damages—no wonder she was half-crazy.

Right. Time to make a plan, then.

She dug a legal pad and a pen out of the drawer and pulled a chair up to the table. She tapped the pen against the paper as she tried to focus, but those smudged handprints kept drawing her eyes like a magnet. Muttering a curse, she went to the kitchen, grabbed a dust rag from under the sink and went to work removing the evidence.

It was torture, and it stirred up images she needed
not
to think about if she was going to be able to think straight at all. Her body wasn’t getting the message, though. Her pelvic muscles contracted, sending a ripple up through her body until it reached her jaw and made her swallow hard.

Work the problem, damn it.
Sex wasn’t the problem. Well, not one she could really address at the moment.
Focus.

She drew columns, labeled them and started orderly numbered lists of what she needed to do, what she needed to pack. The lists grew, the numbers moving into double digits, but she pressed on, not letting the length of the list panic her. She even added a couple of things to the list that she could cross off already—like telling Uncle Marcus—just to make herself feel as if she’d accomplished something.

Evie ran her finger over the last item in the list.
Nick.
In reality, he was number one, but she’d refused to think about
it until she had everything else down on paper, simply because he was the most complicated and the most likely to overwhelm her if she thought about it too much.

Oddly, though, it didn’t overwhelm her. She traced over his name, and a strange serenity settled on her shoulders. She did it again, and the feeling intensified.

This was ridiculous.
He
was the source of all her problems.
He
had just shouted at her and stormed out of her apartment. He didn’t even like her, so why on earth was his entry on the list making her feel…

Better?

No, not really better. He brain stuttered and scrambled and butterflies battered her insides when she thought of him. Her heart beat faster and arousal heated her skin. That didn’t fall under the category of “better.” But there was no mistaking that odd feeling of serenity.

That had to be a good sign for the future. Either that, or she was a glutton for punishment and cracked in the head. She drummed the pen on the table.
Maybe?

It made no sense at all. Nick was the center of the storm: everything unsettling and destructive in her life swirled around him.

The eye of the hurricane is the calmest.

She scrubbed her finger over the shiny surface of the table, leaving a smudge. With just a touch, Nick certainly let loose a hurricane inside
her.
The first time, the intensity had both excited and scared her.

Now she craved that feeling—and that explained a lot.

What it didn’t explain was why when Nick touched her, she felt as if she was in the eye of the storm at the same time. The only time these days she felt as if her life
wasn’t
spinning completely out of control, threatening to destroy everything and everyone she loved, was when Nick held her.

Evie jumped to her feet at that disturbing thought and began
to pace. She
had
lost her mind this time. If not for Nick, her life wouldn’t be spinning out of control in the first damn place.

It’s the hormones.
Something biological was causing that feeling. Residual caveman instinct to connect her to the father of the child she carried. Genetic programming from her evolutionary ancestors.

Because if it wasn’t…Oh, dear Lord, she was in
big
trouble.

Two hours later, Evie’s doorman waved him past the desk and straight to the elevator. Nick had to respect a building that ran with that much efficiency and attention to its residents that they already knew who he was.

He tried the handle of Evie’s door before he knocked, and he was surprised to have it open easily under his hand. Either living in a limited-access building had Evie’s guard down or else she’d left it unlocked in anticipation of his return. If it was the former, she’d have to break that habit once she moved to Vegas; his neighborhood might be gated, but it was isolated and a tempting target for burglars. If it was the latter…

That was a good sign, right?

Evie was on the couch, her laptop open and a phone pressed to her ear. From the sound of it, she was speaking to someone at her office, tying up loose ends and making arrangements for business to go on without her. She looked up as he closed the door, and ended the call quickly.

Three large suitcases sat next to the door.

With a careful—if slightly forced—pleasantness, Evie said, “You’re back.”

Good. Evie had cooled down as well and wasn’t going to immediately reopen hostilities with an opening shot. He carefully kept his voice level, as well. “Yeah. I spent some time at that Internet café two blocks from here taking care of some business back home.”

“Oh. You’re welcome to do that here, too. Use the computer…whatever.”

He indicated the phone and laptop. “Is that what you were doing? Taking care of business?”

She closed the computer and set it on the coffee table. “Yep. It’s all taken care of.”

“That was easy.”

“Well, Will’s been slow to hand over much responsibility to me. It’s not that he doesn’t trust me, he just still sees me as his little sister and…” She stopped and shrugged. “Most of my job could be done by a well-trained monkey. My assistant is pretty sharp and could easily handle everything, so she just landed a nice promotion. I’ll keep a few fingers in a couple of projects while I’m gone and finish up a few things long-distance, but otherwise, I’m now free to do whatever.”

An odd smile crossed her face as she spoke. Evie didn’t seem upset to be leaving her job at all. Then she nodded at the suitcases. “And I’m pretty much packed, so we can leave whenever you’re ready.”

This was much quicker than expected. Either Evie was very well-organized or else she was leaving a lot undone. Why the big hurry to leave? “That’s all you’re taking?”

“I know. It’s weird to me, too. I think I took more than that on my last vacation. I’m not normally what you’d call a light packer.”

Guilt nagged at him—a new, unusual feeling—that he had implied she shouldn’t, or couldn’t, bring much with her. “You can bring anything you want with you, Evie. I have plenty of room.”

“I know,” she quickly interrupted, “and I started to pack all kinds of stuff. Then I realized I didn’t know what I would need. I don’t even need a lot of clothes, because I’ll be outgrowing these soon anyway.” She rubbed a hand over her still-flat abdomen. “Sabine or Gwen can mail me anything I decide
I do need, and, in reality, I’m not going to be gone all that long. No sense dragging everything I own to Las Vegas only to move it all back in another year.”

Evie sounded upbeat about the move—and the move back. That bothered him more than he liked. He had no doubt her attitude would change, but for the moment, she sounded downright chipper, not something he’d expected to return to after the way he’d left earlier.

“Hey, Evie…”

“Look, Nick,” she said at the same time. She stopped and clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Ladies first.”

“Okay.” She stood and circled the couch, ending up standing right in front of him. Then Evie set her shoulders and lifted her chin, and he braced himself for another volley. “I’m sorry.”

The apology caught him off guard, but Evie didn’t seem to notice as she hurried ahead.

“For a lot of things, but primarily for earlier. Well, my attitude has pretty much sucked recently, and I’ve taken it all out on you. And I am sorry for that.” He opened his mouth, but Evie held up a hand. “I really need to say all of this before you respond. You’re holding up your end of the bargain admirably, and I can’t thank you enough for how you’ve acted around my family. I’ll sleep a lot better and worry a lot less now that I know they’re satisfied. Now, I’d really like for us to come to another agreement. One where we don’t snipe and yell at each other.”

That was quite a speech. She’d been thinking while he was gone. “I think that sounds like an excellent plan.”

He didn’t realize how forced her pleasantness had been until her shoulders sagged and she laughed. A genuine laugh this time; the one he didn’t hear very often. “Thank goodness. I know you might not believe this, but most people say I’m pretty easy to get along with.”

Her voice was both earnest and lighthearted at the same time—a combination only Evie could ever manage. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it is,” she responded primly. “My only explanation is that this situation has put me under a lot of stress, and I’m learning that I don’t handle stress all that well.”

Regardless of her light tone, she’d swallowed a lot of her pride to make that speech; it was only fair that he do the same. “It’s been stressful for me, too, and I’m learning a similar lesson.”

“Oh, good, we’re
both
growing as people then. Gwen talks about building and showing character through adversity. I think I’ve been building a whole cast of characters.” Her mouth twisted. “Not all of them are shining stars of the show, though.”

Evie’s charm; he’d forgotten how captivating she could be when she turned on the charm like that. “So now what?”

She took a deep breath, and he waited. “Well—and I know this sounds really strange, considering—I’d like us to be friends.”

“Friends?” He nearly choked on the word. They may not have been very friendly lately, but they’d passed “friends” eight orgasms ago.

“I think it will be much easier as we go forward. We’re going to be together for a very long time—um, I mean, the baby will always connect us, and it will be much easier for everyone if we’re on good terms.”

“I agree.”

“Good.” She blew out her breath and leaned her hips against the couch. “Wow. That was both harder and easier than I thought it would be. But I feel a whole lot better. Now, what were you going to say?”

“Something similar, actually.” He was rewarded for his honesty by the look of surprise that sent Evie’s eyebrows arching upward. “We certainly couldn’t go on as we were.”

“I’m
so
glad we got that sorted out.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs and pushed to her feet. “And now, I’m suddenly very hungry. What about you? There’s a wonderful Lebanese place not far—”

“There’s one more thing we need to discuss, Evie.”