What Happens in Vegas... Page 8

  What was she talking about? “I have no idea what either of those are.”

  This time Evie’s laugh was real, and it echoed off the stone walls of the roof. Even though he didn’t understand the humor, her laugh reminded him of the Evie he’d met before. “Really? Oh, that’s fabulous. I think I’m going to love living in Vegas.”

  “It’s nothing like Dallas,” he reminded her.

  “And that’s one of the many, many reasons I love Las Vegas.” She eyed him carefully. “You’re not press fodder, are you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Do you make the papers a lot? Gossip columns, fashion pages, society blogs, anything like that?”

  Evie had a skewed view of the world. “Do you honestly think nightclub owners are interesting to the press? In this town?”

  “I just wanted to be sure.” She looked out at the skyline and sighed. When she didn’t elaborate, he let the silence spin out until Evie started to shift uncomfortably in her seat and she cleared her throat. “Have we killed enough time up here? Can we go back to the hotel now?”

  The absurd reality of the situation—which he’d managed to forget momentarily—settled around him. This was his wedding night, and he was sitting on the roof of Blue with his bride, debating what to do next.

  That spark, that sizzling need that marked their first meeting, had been slightly damped by Evie’s revelations and the circus of their wedding, but it was still there. The tightening of his body at the thought of what he should be doing with Evie on their wedding night was real enough, as had the light in Evie’s eyes she hadn’t been able to fully hide behind the variety of emotions she’d spiraled through this evening.

  She’d blushed when she said she wanted to go back to the hotel, but she’d wanted a marriage in name only, like some sort of a bad movie plot, so he assumed Evie wouldn’t be open to his idea of how to kill some time—here or at her hotel.

  Her next words confirmed that.

  “I’ve had a long day, and I want to go to bed. To sleep,” she corrected. “I’m, um, tired. Really tired.”

  Well, he had his answer. Although every part of him protested, he wasn’t going to push as if he was some sort of desperate teenager trying to get into her pants.

  This marriage thing had to have some perks attached to it—beyond custody of his child. He’d let Evie think whatever she liked until they got back from Dallas, and then he’d explain the situation to her.

  Chapter Six

  COWARD. EVIE PUNCHED her pillow into shape and curled around it as her stomach churned at the thought. She may have become more cautious, better behaved, over the years—with varying degrees of success, granted—but never had she been such an outright, chicken-livered, all-hat-and-no-cattle coward.

  So now she was alone in her hotel suite on her wedding night, unable to sleep because she couldn’t quit berating herself for her cowardice and unable to shake the feeling that, regardless of the circumstances surrounding their wedding, she should be having mind-blowing sex with her new husband right now.

  Her blood heated with the memory, the fantasy of what could’ve been on the agenda for tonight, if she hadn’t been such a weenie when Nick turned her question around on her. Despite everything else going on, she’d felt the tension in him, seen the barely banked desire in his eyes. He might not like her very much, but he did want her.

  And while her body had been all in favor of taking what she could get, her pride was still smarting from his revelations and his treatment of her, and she’d backed down.

  If she wasn’t such a coward, she’d have asked him straight out what his new problem was, but how could you ask someone “Why don’t you like me?” without it sounding like a pathetic whine? Was he angry she was pregnant? Did he blame her? Think she did it on purpose? Or had he only been out for a good time and now resented the result? Had she been suckered in by a player and fallen for his lines? That was an unpleasant thought.

  The deed was done now. She was married to Nick—at least for the near future.

  They’d killed a little more time on the roof—Nick booking plane tickets back to Dallas while she sent Gwen a text inviting herself and a friend over for drinks the next night—before they snuck out the back door of Blue like thieves. Nick had delivered her back here without much conversation, then left. She assumed he went home—wherever that was.

  God, she didn’t even know where he lived.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a grave mistake in her rush to try to fix this situation before it exploded in her face. Nick, at least, seemed game to hold up his end of the bargain—even though he had no real reason to do so—so she should be thankful for that.

  Still, it seemed wrong to be married and not have any of the benefits that went with it. Why had she opened her big mouth? Hadn’t she learned anything about negotiating a contract from listening to Will over the years? Obviously not, or else she wouldn’t be burning with frustration right now.

  With a groan, she rolled to her other side and looked at the clock. Maybe she’d feel better once she got the showdown at home over with. After she dealt with her family, she could concentrate on sorting out the mess she’d already made of her marriage.

  Nick had never been taken home to meet the family before. He wasn’t the type of guy women took home to their parents—not since he picked up his prom date had he been expected to make nice with the family. This would be awkward no matter what the circumstances were, but the tension radiating off of Evie had his own nerves on alert in response.

  Their conversation—if that’s what it could be called—on the flight to Dallas had been stilted at best and circled around their “story.” Evie seemed lost in thought most of the time, staring out the window and often dropping off to monosyllabic replies to his questions.

  The flight had been delayed, and they’d barely dropped their bags at Evie’s place before she was ushering him out the door and muttering about not being late as if tardiness was a capital crime.

  He let Evie drive without comment since she knew the way, but her knuckles were white from her grip on the steering wheel. She seemed to be carrying on an interesting conversation with herself, and he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. But that graciousness he’d seen her pull out before came into play when they pulled to a stop in front of a high-rise building, and she turned that dazzling smile on the doorman as she handed over her car keys.

  In the elevator, she finally looked at him directly, and he saw a spark of energy there he recognized. Evie was steeling herself for a fight, and she was ready for it, even. “Just let me take the lead on this, okay? This won’t take long. Just stick to our story like the gospel, and the ugliness will be over quickly.”

  Ugliness?

  He saw her set her jaw and take a deep breath as she slid her key into the door, and he wondered what the hell kind of family Evie came from. He rather felt as if the guard escorting the princess into the dragon’s lair for the sacrifice.

  “I’m here!” Evie singsonged as she pushed open the door, and the turnaround in her attitude floored him. She was all smiles and sounded completely carefree. “Anyone home?”

  “Evie!” Two boys, maybe six or seven years old, came thundering down the hallway and launched themselves into Evie’s outstretched arms.

  “Hey, monsters! Whoa, someone’s feeding you too much. You keep growing.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I thought we had a deal about that.”

  She gave each of them a big kiss, showing a facet of her personality he hadn’t seen yet. Evie liked children—or at least these children—and they loved her. That knowledge alleviated a tiny bit of his primary concern.

  The boys giggled as they wiped the kisses off, then turned curious green eyes exactly like Evie’s on him.

  “Nick, these two monsters are Justin and Patrick, my nephews,” Evie offered. “This is my friend Nick.”

  Both boys nodded and extended small, slightly sticky hands for him to shak
e. “Nice to meet you,” they chorused carefully before taking back off down the hallway with shouts of “Mom! Dad! Evie’s here!”

  “Well, that still needs a little work.” Evie laughed. “Don’t run,” she called after them, and Nick could hear a woman saying the exact same thing as she dodged the children on her way through a doorway to their right.

  He’d been expecting a veritable dragon, not a petite woman half a head shorter than Evie with soft, gentle features. She wrapped Evie in a tight hug. “Evie, honey, it’s good to see you.” She then turned to Nick expectantly.

  Evie reached for his arm, her fingers tightening around his bicep. “Nick, this is my sister-in-law, Gwen. Gwen, this is Nick. Nick Rocco.”

  The possessive touch and the deliberate lack of even a brief explanation of who he was weren’t lost on Gwen. She raised an eyebrow at Evie briefly, a smile tugging at her mouth, before she extended a hand to him. “It’s lovely to meet you, Nick. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. And it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Evie’s hand loosened a bit, and her shoulders slipped just a little. What had she expected from him? Did she think he was so low-class he couldn’t handle meeting her family without causing embarrassment? His manners might not be as polished as Evie’s, but he did have them.

  Gwen waved them out of the hall and toward a large room with a great view of Dallas. “Will is on the phone in his office, but he should be out any second now. We can have a drink while we wait.”

  Hard on her words, a man he assumed had to be Will joined them. Evie’s brother didn’t seem to be a fire-breathing dragon, either, as he kissed Evie on the cheek and she repeated the introductions. Nick knew he was being assessed as Will shook his hand and cut his eyes at Evie. The man was not subtle at all.

  But Evie’s family seemed remarkably normal—not at all worth the stress he’d seen from her or the tension she was holding in check behind her smile. The older couple—he really couldn’t call them “old” since they only looked to be in their forties—knew something was up. It was clear that they were waiting for Evie to make some kind of announcement, but they were still friendly enough.

  He settled back onto a leather sofa and accepted the wine Gwen offered. Evie sat her glass on the table as Will took a chair opposite them and Gwen perched easily—if oddly, considering there wasn’t a lack of seating available—on the arm with her husband’s hand on her waist.

  Gwen leaned forward, her face kind but curious. “Nick Rocco. I don’t think I’ve heard the name before. Would we know your family?”

  Evie jumped in before he could answer, her voice bright as she took his hand and twined her fingers through his. “No, Gwen, you wouldn’t. Nick’s from Las Vegas.”

  And the air in the room changed at that moment. Evie’s statement had been simple and delivered with friendliness, but a gauntlet had been thrown down. Will’s eyebrows drew together in a frown, and Gwen’s eyes darted toward Evie’s hands. Gwen was quick on the uptake. Surprise registered on her face before she lifted her glass and drank deeply.

  Will, however, was busy glowering at his sister and hadn’t made the same leap his wife had. “Surely I didn’t hear that correctly. You met him in Las Vegas, Evie?”

  Evie’s spine straightened an inch. “Yes, I did.”

  “When, exactly?” Even Nick could hear the dangerous growl under those words. Evie hadn’t been kidding when she said her brother was unhappy about her taking off for a weekend in Sin City.

  “Four weeks ago.” She took a deep breath. “And I wasn’t at work yesterday or today because I went back to Vegas. To get married.” She held her hand up to show the gold band on her finger.

  “What the—” Will started to roar, only to have Gwen’s elbow fly sharply into his ribs. Now Nick understood Gwen’s choice of seating. And a little of Evie’s stress.

  “That’s quite a surprise, Evie.” Gwen came to hug Evie again, and this time, she hugged him, as well. “Congratulations to you both. I wish you’d given us a little warning, honey. We would’ve liked to have been there.”

  While Gwen was all smiles and hugs, Will was shooting dark daggers at him and no doubt planning how to dispose of his dead body. “Did you know she was an heiress?” he snapped.

  “Will!” Gwen scolded as Evie tensed. He tightened his fingers around hers in support. He opened his mouth in their defense, but Evie shook her head slightly. She’d asked him to let her take the lead on this, and he’d honor that.

  For the moment, anyway.

  Will’s face was red as he pushed to his feet, every inch the outraged parental figure. “If he married her thinking…”

  “He didn’t,” Evie interrupted, an edge to her voice. “He didn’t know how much I was worth when we met, and when he did find out, he signed my prenup without hesitation. Nick has his own money, Will. He doesn’t need mine.”

  “Everyone needs that kind of money.” Evie’s brother looked directly at him as he spoke, and Nick bristled at the insult. “At least you thought far enough ahead to have a prenup.”

  “I’m not stupid, Will.”

  “That seems debatable at the moment.”

  Okay, that crossed a line. “Now just wait—”

  Evie interrupted him, holding up a hand. “Stay out of this, Nick.”

  This was the fight he’d seen her steeling herself for in the elevator. He had to admire her chutzpah; she’d known her brother would react like this—not that he didn’t understand where Will was coming from—and yet she hadn’t chickened out and simply called with the news. In a strange, train-wreck kind of way, the showdown was fascinating to watch.

  Will crossed his arms over his chest. “Who wrote your prenup?”

  Evie mirrored the movement. “Sabine’s brother.”

  “Jackson drew up a prenup for you and didn’t tell me?”

  “Well, it’s not really your business, now is it, Will?”

  “The hell it’s not.”

  Both Harrison siblings were on their feet now and the volume was rising. He was getting hard-pressed not to get involved, regardless of Evie’s wishes. Based on Gwen’s reaction, though, he didn’t jump in the middle. She seemed strangely calm, as if these kinds of fireworks were commonplace.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  Evie paled at her brother’s question. “What?”

  “I can’t think of a single good reason otherwise for you to elope like this. To someone you barely know.”

  “Maybe I’m just a romantic at heart, swept off my feet by love,” she responded.

  Nick had never seen someone’s head actually explode, but Will had to be close as his voice dropped dangerously. “Evangeline…”

  “William…” Evie gritted out.

  Gwen cleared her throat. “Voices, please.”

  Without a word, but still glaring daggers at each other, Will and Evie went out onto the balcony and shut the door. He could no longer hear their battle, but it was certainly still raging. So much for thinking her family was normal. Gwen seemed unperturbed by what was going on outside.

  She patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Neither of them will end up over the balcony rail. They’re volatile, but not homicidal.”

  “They do this a lot?” He couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice.

  “Will’s a bit overprotective of Evie, and she’s always chafed against that. When you throw in that Harrison temper they both have…well, it can get explosive.”

  Still…He could see Evie’s wild gesticulations and Will’s increasingly deepening frown. Will didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take a swing at a woman, but at this point he wasn’t sure about anything as far as Evie’s family was concerned.

  Gwen’s eyes followed his to the balcony. “It was hard for me to watch at first, too. It still is, but I understand them both better now. I don’t like the boys to hear it, though, so they take it outside. Can I refresh your drink?”

  This family was truly nuts. Gwen was playing gracious host
ess while Evie and Will fought it out on the balcony. He’d witnessed plenty of violence growing up, and it usually started with people shouting at each other much like Evie and Will were. Rich people—those so-called “good families”—weren’t supposed to have that problem. Maybe that was a myth. But he’d be damned if he was going to stand here…He moved for the glass door, but Gwen stayed him with her hand on his arm.

  “They need to get it out, Nick. I promise you, she’s fine.” Gwen’s eyes darkened in understanding, and her voice turned serious. “Really, she’s perfectly safe out there. Will has never raised a hand to Evie—would never.” She led him away from the door, explaining the whole time. “Evie is probably the only person in the world who will go nose-to-nose like that with Will. And, oddly, I think they both enjoy it. I do know that they won’t be able to discuss anything like adults until they get this out of their systems. They fight fair, though. Don’t worry about that.” She cocked her head. “I can’t believe Evie didn’t warn you.”

  “She did. Sort of.” He wondered what else Evie hadn’t fully prepared him for. But Gwen didn’t have that scared-rabbit look most women wore when they knew someone was about to get hit and were powerless to stop it. If anything, she looked exasperated. That relieved his mind a little.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself while we wait? I’ll admit I’m terribly curious. Evie’s very picky and wouldn’t marry just anyone, so you must be something very special. What do you do in Las Vegas?”

  This was surreal, but he tried to keep up his end of the conversation while keeping one eye on the balcony. “I run nightclubs.”

  Gwen beamed. “Oh, Evie should enjoy that.”

  Here was a chance to learn a few things about his new wife. Like how much she loved the nightlife. “Why?”

  “Well, she does love to dance, but she had to give up clubbing a couple of years ago just because the press gave her so much grief over it.”

  He bit back the remark he wanted to make. “She has mentioned that.”