Staying at the Bellagio was my only plan so far. It wasn’t like Gannon lived at the Bellagio. He could very likely be back in whatever state he lived in, and I might not find him at all. My first idea was to go to every show with showgirls at the Bellagio and at Caesars until I found the girl. That sounded insane, but how else would I find her? And she was my only way to find him. I knew she lived here and worked here. Which gave me hope that Gannon must be here a lot, to have knocked up a showgirl. His construction company did build casinos, after all. That made sense for him being here full-time or for long stints.
This was crazy. I was crazy. But then, that’s why I had come to Vegas.
I considered going to the Hyde. That was where I’d met him, after all. But he’d said he didn’t much like clubs, and he’d just gone in there that night. He wouldn’t be there again. Finding the woman was the best idea. What I would ask her once I found her, I hadn’t worked through just yet.
The black minidress I was wearing brought attention to my legs, and I always liked the way my pale skin and red hair looked against the midnight color. I was confident and ready to do this. There was a show at seven tonight here at the Bellagio that I was going to see. I had a front-row seat so I could see the faces clearly, and I was as nervous as I was ready. I had come this far; I had to finish this.
My planning and strategizing were all for nothing, however. When I stepped out of the elevator, there he stood looking at me. Almost as if he had expected to find me. The shock that I knew was clearly on my face wasn’t on his. It was as if he’d been waiting for me.
“Nan,” he said, with a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. He was pleased, but there was a sense of danger in that look that I knew from my dreams.
My heart picked up its pace. “Gannon,” I replied, almost unsure if I was imagining this and my crazy had just found a new level.
“I’m glad you came back.” His pleased smile was almost smug now. Damn him.
“It wasn’t for you,” I snapped, in the haughtiest tone I could manage at the moment.
This made him chuckle. A deep, rich sound that sent vibrations throughout my body. “I’m still glad you’re back.”
Oh. Well. Oh. I didn’t know what to say to that. I was ready for a fight of words. The problem with him being right here, so easy to find, was that I hadn’t prepared what I would say to him. I hadn’t expected to find him like this. “You have a pregnant girlfriend” was what my mouth decided to blurt out next. Couldn’t trust my mouth. It always said exactly what it was thinking. It had no filter, and it hadn’t served me well in my life. I had made many enemies by saying exactly what I was thinking at the moment. It wasn’t fair, really, that people found it hard to forgive me for saying things without thinking. At least they never had to wonder what I thought. The rest of the world just lied a lot. They didn’t share their feelings and sucked up things that eventually made them bitter.
He looked almost remorseful. “I don’t. She was a one-night stand. Never a girlfriend. We got to know each other through mutual acquaintances and then one night, over too many drinks, slept together. She wasn’t on birth control, and the condom broke. Last week, she miscarried the baby.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Can I take you to dinner? Or did you already have other plans?” he asked, not waiting for me to respond.
I was letting the fact that he didn’t have a girlfriend or a baby on the way sink in. I nodded. “I’d like that.”
He smiled again. “So you were all dressed up for nothing?”
I glanced down at myself, remembering that I was, in fact, going to a show in hopes of finding his baby momma. I wasn’t admitting that, though. “Uh, yes, I guess I was.”
He held out his arm, and I slid my hand into the crook of his elbow. “Good. I’d hate to make you cancel your plans. But I would.”
The finality and power in his tone should have pissed me off. He was so bossy and sure of himself. But instead, it excited me. I was insane.
The back corner booth was shaped like a U and tucked away from the rest of the busy restaurant. When we had walked in, the hostess hadn’t even asked Gannon how many or where he’d like to be seated. She had looked up at him as if she knew him and smiled, then grabbed two menus and led us back to the table. He must live in Las Vegas part of the time. Those were questions I had never asked him before. Things I wanted to know.
“You come here often?” I asked, when the hostess had walked away, assuring us that our server, Greg, would be right with us.
He shrugged. “Occasionally.” He wasn’t much of a sharer. I wanted to know more about the man who came to me in my dreams and messed up my head for all other men.
“Do you live in Las Vegas? Or near here?” I asked, needing more.
“No” was all he said.
I felt like growling in frustration. Normal people would follow that up with where they did live. This was like pulling teeth. “So where do you live?” I asked, this time more pointedly, since that was what this was going to require.
“Different places. Depending on my job at the time.”
Was he kidding me? Was this a test to get me to pitch a damn fit? Sighing in defeat, I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. You don’t want to tell me about yourself. I’ll just sit here quietly and leave you alone.”
His large, strong hand was on my thigh instantly, holding it in a firm, almost painful grip.
I held my breath, unsure what button I had pushed but waiting to see if it was a sexual one or a truly angry one, where he would beat the hell out of me and then toss me into a ditch on the side of the road. With this man, I couldn’t be sure. Hell, I didn’t even know where he lived.