What Happened in Vegas.... Wendy Etherington

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СКАЧАТЬ as the current owners of the emerald—and her boss, Mr. Pascowitz, were going to be seriously pissed if Gideon could prove his claims.

      Then there was the personal risk to herself and her reputation. She didn’t want her past—of which Gideon was an undeniable part—anywhere near her present. Last year, pictures of her boss’s secretary posing in a beach bikini contest had circulated around the office with much snickering from the men and derisive comments from the women. Shortly thereafter the secretary had been fired for cause—job performance and attendance issues being cited. But in Jacinda’s mind, the photos had precipitated the action.

      Just imagine what response pictures of herself in glitter, barely there spandex and fishnets would instigate. The thought made her break out in hives.

      The whole business was a damn mess, and yet all Jacinda could think of were hot, wild, inappropriate thoughts about the man causing all the trouble.

      The man would be her downfall. She was absolutely certain of it.

      As she flung open the door to the restaurant, she reflected on their earlier conversation. She did have plans for dinner.

      One of those new spa meals from Lean Cuisine.

      But she also had fantasies about spending time with Gideon. And none of them included dinner.

      Dessert, maybe.

      When her cell phone rang, and she recognized the number as Andrew’s, she answered the call.

      “Are you there yet?” he asked.

      “Walking in the door.”

      “Do you still want me to call in an hour about your urgent appointment?”

      “Definitely.”

      “You’re weak.”

      “And then some.”

      “Honey, I would be, too, if that man looked at me the way he looks at you.”

      Jacinda sighed. “You’re not helping.”

      “Oh, right. Stay strong. Keep your blouse buttoned.”

      “Got it.”

      “And definitely keep your pants buttoned.”

      “I’m wearing a skirt.”

      “Well, then—”

      “Oh, man, there he is.”

      Andrew expelled a lustful sigh. “How does he look?”

      “Same as earlier. Jeans. White T-shirt.”

      “Lip-smacking, in other words.”

      Jacinda’s nipples throbbed. “Yep. Pretty much.”

      “Go get ’im.”

      She halted on her way to the bar. “Andrew!”

      “Right. Don’t get him—at least not physically.” He paused. “Can you get him physically, tell me all the details and still have us maintain the integrity of the auction?”

      “Oh, hell. I don’t see how.”

      “Still, I’d go for it.”

      “You’re supposed to be helping.”

      “He is really sexy.”

      “I’m hanging up now.”

      “As long as you call me in the morning!”

      More frustrated and nervous than ever, especially knowing Andrew had no intention of calling her later to save her, Jacinda ended the call. Heading toward Gideon, she straightened her shoulders and convinced herself she could be calm and cool in his presence.

      The bead of sweat rolling between her breasts belied her forced confidence, but she ignored that, too.

      She could keep her job and her respectability while sharing a drink with a sexy guy. Even if that sexy guy could threaten her job and respectability. Even if he decided to play this game dirty and threaten to expose her past unless she helped him get the gem it was her responsibility to protect. Even if that guy added the temptation of another hot night or two, where rules and respectability were stifled by lingering kisses and arousing touches.

      Sure, no problem.

      3

      JACINDA STROLLED toward Gideon as if she didn’t have a care in the world and slid onto the bar stool he pulled out next to him. “Johnnie Walker on the rocks,” she said to the bartender.

      The guy’s gaze tracked down her body, presumably taking in her pale blue Chanel suit and expensive leather bag. “That’s not a very prissy drink.”

      “I’m not a prissy woman.”

      “It’s nice to see a high-powered job and fancy office haven’t completely tamed you,” Gideon said as he returned to his seat.

      She smiled slightly and accepted her drink. “No, I guess not.”

      “My grandmother would call you a great dame.”

      “Would she?” After the research she and Andrew had done all afternoon, she supposed that would be a compliment.

      “She’d like you even better if you gave her back her emerald.”

      “It’s not mine to give.”

      “I’ll prove it belongs to my family.”

      “I look forward to it. Let’s table that. Tell me what you’ve been doing the last six years.”

      Surprisingly, he agreed to her cop-out, for which she was grateful.

      The auction had taken its toll on her stamina, and she needed a distraction from imagining the scandal if Gideon decided to go to the press with his story. Somehow, Mr. Pascowitz would manage to blame any problems on her. She’d seen him throw more than one staff member under the bus when his own back was against the wall.

      Setting aside thoughts about her boss, she focused on Gideon. However strange and unsettled his life as a finder of lost legacies seemed to her, he clearly relished every minute. He’d been to exotic places she’d rarely seen pictures of, much less dreamed of exploring. While he poked through antique stores, auction houses, pawn shops and estate sales, he also spent many hours in libraries and at universities doing research.

      He’d acquired an impressive art collection and learned to speak four languages. He’d interviewed everyone from royalty to the homeless. He’d located people and things that didn’t want to be found. He’d made sure thieves and swindlers were prosecuted. He returned necklaces, rings and even crowns to elderly, teary-eyed ladies.

      “Did they all have blue hair?”

      He put on a look of mock СКАЧАТЬ