He turned to look at me, and for the first time, I saw vulnerability in him. Like he was going to confess something he wanted to keep a secret. “I have dyslexia. It’s often hard enough to read legal papers when I’m sober. I can’t imagine I could do it drunk.”
I was no lawyer, but his reasoning made sense to me. I sat on the bed next to him.
He looked at his watch. “Fuck.” He turned to look at me. “I don’t have a lot of time before I need to catch my flight.” He shook his head. “I guess I could take a later flight. I can move my schedule around.”
“I’m not sure how to go about this in the first place. Why don’t you let me research and get whatever paperwork we need, and once it’s together, I can let you know? Maybe we can do this long distance and you don’t need to return to Las Vegas.”
He nodded. “But if I do need to be here, I can come.”
I hadn’t thought much about being married since I left the romanticism of fairy tales behind me when I was a teenager. But I never could have imagined that on my wedding day, my husband would be eager to divorce me.
CHAPTERONE
Max—two days earlier.
I walked my twin brother, Sam, out to the charter flight he was taking home to Los Angeles. Yesterday, when we flew to Las Vegas, he was despondent and pissed off at the same time because the woman he loved wouldn’t forgive him and love him back. His plan in Las Vegas had been to forget her through booze and women. It had been a bad idea all around because I knew that any chance that he’d have to win Kate back would be gone if he followed through and slept with another woman. Granted, they weren’t technically together, mostly because Kate was still pissed off at how he’d left her five years ago. But after seeing the two of them together, I was sure if Sam could stay the course and continue to fight for her, she’d come around. She had a lot of walls up, but I felt certain that deep down, she still loved him too.
He had hit on a couple of women last night, but he hadn’t brought any of them back to our suite. He told me this morning that he’d nearly gone to a woman’s room, but in the end, he knew I was right. So now I was putting him back on the charter plane to return to Los Angeles so he could try again.
My plan was to head over to the regular terminal and catch a commercial flight home to New York. But with him on his flight heading home, my thoughts turned to business. Sam was in L.A. because we planned to expand our club enterprise out west and he was in charge of putting the deal together in California. Once that was done, I planned to do the same in Las Vegas. Our plans were that I would do it next year, but I was in Vegas now, and our business was doing well. Why not begin scouting and planning a club location here?
I had made it over to the commercial part of the terminal when I made the final decision to stay another day or two. I pulled out my phone to order a car. When the car arrived, I stepped outside. Walking over, I reached for the handle to open the door when a feminine hand reached for the handle as well.
I stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was my car.” I looked down at the app and then at the car and felt pretty certain this was my car.
She looked down at her phone and then the car. “Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
I smiled at her. She was beautiful, with long, red, curly locks that I could picture my hands getting lost in and hazel eyes that today veered toward green. Probably because of the green silk blouse she wore. I wasn’t a lech or even a playboy, but I liked women, and whenever possible, I enjoyed spending time with them. I studied her, feeling like the sparkle in her eyes suggested she liked the way I looked too.
“How about we share?” I opened the door and extended my hand, motioning for her to get in. “I’m sure the driver won’t mind.” I would pay him whatever it took for him to agree to drive us both.
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m probably out of your way. I’m heading home.”
So she lived in Las Vegas.
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe you’d be willing to be a tour guide for me.”
She arched a brow, and I could see the speculation in her eyes. I didn’t blame her. Women needed to be careful these days about who they spent time with. Even a good-looking guy like me could be a serial killer.
I thrust out my hand. “I’m Max Clarke. I’m from New York, and I’m here scouting a business location.”
Her eyes still held skepticism, but she extended her hand to mine. It was warm and petite, and the man in me couldn’t help but imagine it wrapped around my dick.
“Amelia Dunsmore. From Las Vegas. I’m home from a business trip to Southern California.” She took her hand back and tilted her head to the side. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s share this ride to your hotel, and I’ll let you know when we get there whether or not I’ll be your tour guide.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
I had already indicated where I was heading in the phone app when I ordered the car, so I didn’t have to tell the driver where to go. I had the trip from the airport to the hotel to convince Amelia to spend the day with me. Perhaps even the night.
“So, Max Clarke from New York, what sort of business are you scouting for here in Las Vegas?” she asked as we rode from the airport toward the Vegas strip.
“A club.”
She laughed. “Of course. You do know that restaurants and clubs are a dime a dozen out here, right?”
I arched my brows. “You doubt my business prowess?”
She shrugged. “Las Vegas has ruined a lot of successful people.”