What Happens in Vegas... (9 page)

“I’ll come help,” Sabine offered.

“No!” The last thing she needed was a witness today. Especially a witness who knew her so well, she’d be able to see right through the lie. “I mean, we just got married two days ago. We’d like a little privacy, know what I mean?”

Sabine snorted. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Evie had the sinking feeling Sabine understood a little
too
much.

Then Sabine sighed. “Look. Just pack up what you need for the immediate future. Make a list of everything else you want done or sent to you, and I’ll take care of it. You have enough on your plate.”

Tears burned Evie’s eyes. “You’re the best, Bennie.”

“And don’t you forget it. You know I expect to be this baby’s godmother, right?”

Evie laughed as she swiped at her eyes. “You bet. ’Bye.”

She closed the phone and tossed it aside. Leaning forward, she buried her face in the cushion she held. Dear Lord, there was no end to the lies. But she was hip-deep in it now.

Coffee. Coffee would help her face this day, even if it was decaf. She certainly needed a cup before she had to face Nick. Maybe two. She stood, grabbed her phone so she could call Gwen to take the temperature of things there, and turned.

Nick stood in the doorway, bare-chested and barefoot, his jeans riding low on his hips, looking yummy enough to eat with a spoon and nearly causing her nervous system to overload. But his arms were crossed over his chest, an inscrutable look on his face.

Damn.

Evie shouldn’t look so tempting first thing in the morning. Her hair was mussed from both sleep and where his hands had tangled in it repeatedly the night before. Without makeup, she looked fresh-faced and exotically innocent, but her eyes were
red-rimmed with unshed tears. He’d heard enough of her conversation to catch the general gist, but something her friend said had gotten to her.

She shifted, tightening the belt of her robe and pulling the collar closed. The tiny silky robe barely covered anything; it clung to her curves, stopping midthigh on those long legs.

He’d spent the better part of the night with those legs wrapped around him, trapped between her thighs, and the sensation seemed burned into his memory. The temptation to drag her back to the bedroom was strong, but in the harsh, bright light of day, the intimacy they’d shared last night seemed far away.

Evie pushed her hair back, tucking the mass behind her ears. “‘Morning. I’m after coffee. Want some?” A perfectly normal and expected set of sentences, but the slight shake of her hands and the too-careful tone of her voice gave her away.

Evie was a complicated creature. It was hard to believe the same woman who railed at him and called him a bastard last night was now treading so carefully. Evie had helped expand his definitions of great sex, but now she mumbled and blushed like a virgin with regrets the morning after.

As she passed him, he could smell her—the scent of sex, him on her—combined with sleep and sweat and her perfume. The smell rekindled that primal need to take her…

But Evie was smiling at him shyly, guardedly. “Breakfast might be more difficult to produce.”

“Just coffee. I’m not much of a breakfast eater.”

“Me neither.” She cocked her head at him. “Wow. We’re so compatible, we’re practically soul mates.”

His body chose to interpret “compatible” in a different way, and his blood immediately rushed south. But Evie’s voice lacked sarcasm or snark; she sounded almost teasing with the statement.

“So what are we going to do with all this privacy you asked Sabine for?”

An eyebrow went up, but the blush that stained her cheeks ruined the effect. “You were eavesdropping?”

“Just enough to hear how wonderful I am,” he teased, enjoying the way the blush deepened.

Evie handed him a cup of coffee. “I had to tell Bennie
some
thing.”

“Like we got married because you’re pregnant.”

“Bennie knows me too well to believe it was love at first sight or anything like that.” Evie drank and then wrinkled her nose, staring at her cup in distaste. “Ugh. This part of being pregnant is not fun at all.”

It was the first time she’d mentioned the physicality of being pregnant, and he realized he’d never asked, either. “Morning sickness?”

She sighed sadly. “Not that. Not yet, at least. It’s the lack of caffeine. I don’t care what people say—decaf just doesn’t taste the same as regular. And facing the day without caffeine just sucks.”

“So you’ve given it up entirely?”

“Caffeine, sushi, Brie, alcohol, pâté…there’s a whole list of wonderful stuff I’m not allowed to have anymore. Plus there’s a whole list of things I
should
be eating that just doesn’t balance out what I’m giving up. It’s almost depressing. Oh, and the prenatal vitamins—
yuck.
They’re the size of horse pills
and
they stink.”

How did Evie know all of this? The question must have shown on his face.

“I did some reading on the plane,” she said by way of explanation and dismissed it with a shrug. “By the way, you don’t happen to know who’s the best obstetrician in Las Vegas, do you? I’ll need to get an appointment soon.”

“I didn’t realize you were so organized.” He’d assumed
Evie’s actions to this point had all been reactionary, but now it seemed she had put
some
thought into this beyond saving her own reputation.

“I have layers.” Her mouth twisted and she lifted her chin. “I just might surprise you.”

“You already do.” He could tell she didn’t know how to respond to that candid statement.

“Ditto.”

To be fair, he’d been a little reactionary himself the past couple of days, and that wasn’t something he was used to at all. He still had a lot to figure out about Evie and how he wanted this to shake out in the end, but for now…“So what is the plan for today?”

Go back to bed and stay there
was too much to hope for.

She leaned a hip against the counter, and he mirrored the movement, as if this was just a normal morning chitchat between husband and wife. “Well, I need to go see Uncle Marcus, and I need to check in with Gwen and see if Will is still acting like a butthead about this. I have to call my assistant, and I need to start packing.”

Back to the topic that set her off last night. Not that he minded how
that
worked out. But living arrangements did need to be settled. “I assure you my home is fully furnished with all the modern conveniences. But feel free to bring any personal items you’d like to have around. We’ll find someplace for them.”

“I don’t know…”

“Your original plan involved you moving in. And it does make sense. I have plenty of room, and it will be much easier in the long run.”
Right.
And he’d be able to keep an eye on her and the baby.

Evie frowned as her hands went to the collar of her robe again, pulling the edges even farther over each other. In light of last night, she had to be thinking about her earlier plan to just be roommates. But last night had changed the game.

Even if she hadn’t figured it out by now,
that
idea was out of the question. If Evie was moving to Vegas, she was moving in with him.

And if she was moving in, she was moving into his bedroom.

E
VIE DIDN’T RECALL SIGNING
a treaty or even participating in peace talks, but she and Nick seemed to have called a ceasefire. A truce of sorts.

Which should have made her happy, especially since Uncle Marcus had called with an invitation to lunch—and there was no way to get out of an “invitation” from Uncle Marcus—in order to meet “her young man,” and it was just too nerve-racking to play happy couple when Nick looked at her as if…Well, as if there was something
wrong
with her.

But it was an uneasy, superficial truce—at least for her, because the only thing that was different from yesterday was the completely mind-scrambling sex they’d had last night.

It was hardly what relationship experts would suggest as a way to broker peace, but somehow, it had worked. Somewhat. Nick wasn’t being overly friendly, but he was less monosyllabic today. He wasn’t quite the same man who’d shifted her out of her usual orbit in Vegas, but he wasn’t that same cold-eyed man she’d left the wedding chapel with, either. Somewhere in the middle was the man who’d done things she didn’t think were humanly possible to her body last night and made her love every minute of it.

And yet this morning…well, it was weird, to say the least. Neither of them mentioned last night. Or the future. Or
anything really. Their conversation had been well, not
easy,
but not difficult, either. It had been a surprisingly simple morning full of surprisingly normal conversation like “Would you like the shower first?” and “What channel is ESPN?”

It was nerve-racking at the same time it was oddly comforting, but in the grand scheme of things
that
was still a major improvement.

More importantly, it had made lunch a little easier. Uncle Marcus was buying their story, and Nick seemed to be passing this interview with flying colors. She tried to feign interest in their spirited discussion of…what? Mutual funds?
Seriously?
At least it was something.

It still bothered her a lot, though, that the
one
thing Nick did seem to like about her was how good she was in bed.

For one, it would mean she had completely misjudged Nick—both when she’d made the decision to sleep with him in the first place and again when she’d decided to marry him. She didn’t want to think she was that naive. Or so easily blinded by her hormones.

“You’re not eating, Evangeline. Is there something wrong with your salad, my dear?”

Uncle Marcus’s question snapped Evie back to the conversation. Damn, her brooding over Nick had caused her to forget where she was. Uncle Marcus might be closing in on eighty and his heart problems had left his body frail, but he still had the ability to make her feel like an uncouth tomboy with little more than a pointed stare.

“No, Uncle Marcus, it’s delicious. I’m just rather tired today. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Nick coughed slightly, and she cursed herself silently as she added, “Between all the traveling and then dealing with Will yesterday…Well, you know.”

Marcus nodded. “Oh, I got an earful from William this
morning, but I’ll be sure to let him know that your Nicolas seems to be on the up-and-up and not at all a gold digger.”

Evie bit her lip as Nick stiffened at the label. Nick had borne Uncle Marcus’s pointed and unrelenting interrogation—however cloaked in politeness it was—with a restraint and patience she admired and envied.

Now, in typical Uncle Marcus fashion, he seemed to believe that his stamp of approval—or disapproval—marked the end of all discussions on the topic. She could wish, but she and Will still had a conversation on the horizon. Patting Nick on the arm, where she could feel the tightened muscle, she smiled at Uncle Marcus. “Thank you. Will trusts your judgment so much, I’m sure that will go a long way in easing his mind about our marriage. I know this caught him off guard.”

“You must realize, Evangeline, this has caught all of us off guard.” His mouth curled just the slightest bit down in disapproval. “I still don’t see why you had to run off to Las Vegas for some quickie wedding, when we’ve looked forward to your wedding day for so long.”

Oh, let’s not go there.
“I know, Uncle Marcus.” She tried to sound appropriately contrite. “But you know sometimes I just get caught up in things.” Her cheeks were hurting from the smile she’d worn for the last hour, but she forced herself to keep it up and just prayed it looked like sincere excitement. “Nick kind of swept me off my feet.”

“I had hoped you had outgrown your occasional penchant for the dramatic by now. It embarrasses the family and the company when those dramatics hit the papers.”

Ouch.
Uncle Marcus sure knew how to score a direct hit on her conscience. As if he somehow felt her inner wince, Nick took her hand. Everyone else might see it as newlyweditis, but she took it as a much-needed pillar of support. If only Uncle Marcus knew how she was trying so desperately
not
to embarrass everyone with even more drama…

“I’m afraid I’m to blame for this,” Nick interjected and she nearly choked. “Evie’s spontaneity is part of her charm, and I encouraged her more than I should have.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Nick was defending her?

“I’m not accustomed to the level of attention Evie attracts,” he continued as she tried to hide her shock behind her water glass. “I hoped an elopement would make a quick splash and be forgotten, whereas planning a big white wedding would draw endless amounts of attention. I don’t like the idea of being fodder for the society columns.”

She was still reeling from that statement, but when Uncle Marcus nodded in agreement, it took everything she had to keep her jaw from hitting the table in shock. Her world spun off its axis, and she could only hope her eyes weren’t bugging out of her head as Nick and Uncle Marcus bonded over the tiresome burden of being grist in the gossip mill.

“That’s probably a wise attitude to have, young man. Beat the busybodies at their own game. I’ve always felt there was far too much speculation about everyone else’s personal business going on. Never cared for it, myself.”

Evie looked around the room carefully. It was the same dining room where she’d eaten hundreds of lunches the last decade, filled with the same people she’d known for years, yet she felt she’d landed on another planet. She’d love to know exactly when the pod-people had taken over Marcus’s body and implanted this new aversion to “what everyone else thinks.” She’d spent the last ten years worrying about what everyone else thought and might say—primarily because
Marcus
worried about it so much. In fact, Uncle Marcus was usually the first in line to raise an eyebrow.

Her world was now completely, officially askew.

Did pregnancy cause insanity? Maybe she was caught in some wishful daydream? The hand holding hers felt real enough: warm and strong and just calloused enough to remind
her he wasn’t a pretty boy with a desk job at his daddy’s firm. And the way his other hand was sliding over her forearm…gooseflesh rose behind the feather-light touch.

No, this was real. Weird, but real. That cautious bubble of optimism inflated in her chest again. She had three people on her side—Bennie, Gwen and now Uncle Marcus. Between the three of them, they’d have the gossip columns under control, and eventually, they’d get past Will’s pigheadedness, too.

Which meant she only had Nick to deal with. And, for now at least, they had a truce. She might not like how that truce came about, but she was rapidly learning to take what she could get. She’d build on what she had and go from there.

It wasn’t
that
bad of a start. At least half her plan was working out. A little voice in her head, though, wouldn’t stop wishing the half that was working out already was the half that involved Nick.

Evie lived in a very strange world, Nick decided. Lunch with her Uncle Marcus—who must have been from a different branch of the family tree—had driven that point home.

In all honesty, her family’s reaction wasn’t unexpected considering Evie’s inheritance and the fact she was the youngest and obviously doted on. But it was the last two hours that had him shaking his head at the world Evie inhabited.

It started when they arrived at the country club and a person stepped in front of them to snap off a photo before the doorman shooed the cameraman away.

“What was that?” he asked.

Evie shrugged. “That’s Malcolm Wilson. Amateur paparazzo. You just made the ‘Texas High-Life’ blog. Congrats.”

“Because I’m here?”

“Because you’re here with
me.
” A tentative smile crossed her face. “I did warn you. People are interested in my family.”

Belatedly, he realized that now included him. Great. “Why?”

“Because we have money? Because we’re considered influential? Maybe Dallas doesn’t have enough real celebrities? I don’t know for sure why, but it comes with the territory. If I got all bent out of shape every time someone took my picture and posted it somewhere…” She shrugged again. “Let’s just say I don’t leave the house without makeup.”

Still reeling from that, he’d borne Evie’s uncle’s interrogation with all the patience he could muster, drawing on his last reserves when Evie sent him a grateful look and squeezed his hand.

But what really had him shaking his head had nothing to do with paparazzi or elderly relatives. In two hours at the country club—and the majority of that spent at a table with her uncle—no fewer than fourteen people had waylaid them. He’d expected some of it, simply because this was Evie’s family’s club and she was bound to know a lot of people, but these hadn’t been fourteen simple “Hi-how-ya-doin” quick conversations.

Some knew of their marriage already, causing Evie to mumble something about Gwen being quick to the punch this morning with all the appropriate spin, but even he could tell people were fishing for details. Evie deftly deflected the questions without once losing her smile or seeming ungracious in any way.

He was more impressed, though, at how easily Evie handled the requests for her time or her money for everyone’s various pet projects. He dealt with his fair share of that at home—and it was getting worse every day as his bank balance grew—but he could tell Evie had lots of practice in this area, as well.

In many ways, Evie was a different person in Dallas. Her smile was brighter but less genuine, and she seemed more reserved than he remembered—and it couldn’t be him causing it. It took him a little while—about five or six sets of introductions and conversations—to figure it out.

These were superficial relationships; they were far more
interested in what she could do for them than how she was. No wonder she didn’t want these people to know she’d gotten pregnant accidentally; they’d eat her alive and relish every bite.

And the reason why she often spoke of “Evangeline Harrison” as if she was a different person became clear. Evie had a role to play, and she played it well. No matter how much it chafed against her true personality.

But what was her true personality? He needed to remember who she was, not be blinded to the truth and how women like Evie could be. He needed to keep that reminder front and center.

So another piece of the Evie puzzle fell into place, but it still was far from a complete picture. No wonder she’d run off to Vegas to blow off steam. And no wonder she was so willing to move there now that she had an excuse. But was Vegas where she’d want to stay? Did she need all of this—as superficial as it was?

Her polite smile didn’t falter until they were safely inside the car and he eased the car out of the club’s driveway. She blew out her breath noisily as she leaned back against the seat. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

“You expected worse?”

“I always expect the worst. It helps keep my mouth in check, and curbs that penchant for the dramatic that bothers Uncle Marcus so much.” Her mouth twisted. “The family’s image, by the way, used to be Marcus’s number-one thing. I don’t know
who
that man was, telling you your private life was none of anyone’s business.”

Evie sounded so grumpy about it, he couldn’t help but laugh, and she shot him a dirty look for it.

Casually, as if he wasn’t fishing for information, he asked, “Is he as tough on his own kids, or are you the only dramatic Harrison in the clan?”

“There aren’t many Harrisons in the clan. Will and I are the only ones—plus Gwen and the boys, of course. But Will doesn’t make the papers much since he married Gwen, and the boys are too young, so I’m the only one they’re interested in right now. Uncle Marcus is a committed bachelor, and if he has any family at all, I’ve never met them.”

Wait.
He’d been through a military-grade interrogation and the man wasn’t even a true relative? “You mean Marcus isn’t really your uncle?”

“No. He and my father were great friends, and he’s been with the company since the earth’s crust cooled. He kind of adopted our family, but I didn’t really know him until I moved back here.”

It was slightly shocking how little he knew about Evie personally, especially since he knew so much about her
physically.
At the same time, they hadn’t had much time to really talk, and this was the most open and approachable Evie had been since she left Vegas the first time. He needed to take advantage of it. “I assumed you grew up in Dallas.”

“No. I was born here, but we moved away when I was five. I told you how Will had to take me in after my mom died, right? I came back to Dallas when I was fifteen.” She laughed, but it was a slightly bitter sound. “It was a huge adjustment because I just walked into the fishbowl and was totally unprepared for any of it. That’s a whole different story, but that’s what Uncle Marcus is talking about when he mentions my ‘penchant for dramatics.’”

He could almost feel sorry for her, growing up under a spotlight like that. But then he thought of Evie up on the stage at Starlight…if she was that free and adventurous in a strange place around strangers, what kind of trouble did she stir up in her hometown?

Maybe the reserve he’d seen recently was unusual for her, a by-product of the situation. Evie obviously knew what was expected
of her—today was proof of that—but if her family was on her case a lot, it had to be deserved. When he’d researched her family briefly just to get a feel for what he would be walking into, maybe he should have read past the who-wore-what-where.