Nothing to Hide

ELEVEN

ELEVEN

Something in him beckoned to her. The mystery of it pulled her deeper. Without a doubt, he was one of the most confident men she’d ever met. Befriending arrogance: always a mistake. It stifled her. Eventually, a competitive edge would raise its head and her needs would be marginalized.

Male ego could be fragile. Impugning it in any way wasn’t usually well received. None of the men from her past could handle it. Lomond, somehow, was different. She teased him and he didn’t back down. He didn’t wilt or retort in anger. He didn’t fight her, he played with her.

Staying near him, being alone with him, wouldn’t be a good idea. Except she didn’t have a choice. The contest put her in his path. Her girls would want an explanation if she forfeited. But making friends with an international jet-setting billionaire wouldn’t end well.

As though he came to the same conclusion in the same moment, he boosted himself away from the bar, freeing her from his cage.

“This is the last night you’ll have to yourself,” he said, standing in front of her, absorbing every nuance. “You’ll meet the documentary crew tomorrow.”

Roxie licked her finger clean. “We’re going to Boston?” she asked, low and quiet. They were alone, yet she spoke as though someone might eavesdrop. He nodded. “That’s a shame, I haven’t seen anything of Vegas yet.”

He slid onto the stool next to hers. “We’ll be back here.”

Twisting her seat to face him, she propped an elbow on the bar to support the fist she lodged under her jaw. “You know, I was thinking, owning a few clubs wouldn’t get you this kind of lifestyle.”

“The money again.”

“If I thought you’d talk about it, I’d ask about how your mom died and how you feel about her. I’d ask about your grandfather’s passing… or about your dad. If you knew him, if you ever looked him up, if he knows what you’ve made of your life—”

“I invest,” he said, confirming her assumption that he didn’t want to talk about his family. “I own shares in a large number of successful companies. Crimson is the top tier as far as the clubs go. The jewel in the entertainment network crown. We also have interest in liquor companies, make our own whiskey, and have hundreds, thousands of bars and clubs under the Rouge umbrella. Of course, there’s the resort. I own a minor record label and we finance movie production.”

“Geez…”

“The movie production happened through Collier. I’m not hands on.”

Her simple question had a complex and impressive answer. “You couldn’t be hands on with that many balls in the air.”

“My property portfolio is vast. There’s the sports stadiums and concert venues, rent from those makes a mint… and we own a private airline network.”

“We?”

“Rouge,” he said. “It’s the parent company of all my ventures. And the diamonds, I for—”

“Stop,” she said. Her fist dropped from her jaw, so her palm came to rest over the back of his hand. “Forget I asked! You’re making me feel so unaccomplished.”

“Comes with a cost too… A personal cost.”

Yeah, she couldn’t begin to imagine the complications in his life. He’d called her complex. Compared to him, she was as simple and straightforward as people came.

Her fingers curled, their tips stroking his wrist until her nails met skin. Without breaking eye contact, she straightened her fingers to repeat the action, caressing the same few inches over and over.

As his eyes grew heavier, the light around them seemed to dim.

“Are you going to the club tonight?” she murmured.

“Do you want me to go to the club?”

“Your club, your call. Toria and Jane are excited, but you don’t have to put us on the list. If you’re going to be there, I would understand why you wouldn’t want us to crash. I wouldn’t—”

“You’re on the list. LA was an oversight on my part.”

“You took care of that,” she said. “I didn’t know that you… I didn’t see you on TV or know that you helped everyone out.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, reaching over the bar for the cocktail shaker. “Another?”

As he tipped the shaker, she put a hand over her glass, stalling him. “You don’t like praise,” she said, noticing how he’d tried to change the subject.

“Baby, I drink it up.”

“No, you don’t,” she said, relieved and intrigued to see the more human side of him. “Maybe you drink it up on TV or in your clubs when your fans are around, but here, one on one, you don’t like it.”

But that swagger wouldn’t yield. “I just don’t recognize it from you,” he said, smirking. “You’re not usually so pleasant.”

“Must be the alcohol,” Roxie said, giving him a break. If he wasn’t comfortable, she wouldn’t push. He’d shown a glimmer of his human side, it wouldn’t hurt to show hers too. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, I am God’s gift.”

She exhaled a quick laugh and pushed his arm. “Okay, but not that.”

“What do you want to know?”

When her hand left the glass, he topped it off, diverting his attention.

Studying him was easier while he was occupied. The angle of his jaw, strength of his brow, his warm complexion. People could see him as a thing because the view was so damn good. Those people didn’t get close. She could smell his cologne, see individual strands of hair, watch him breathe. He was real and right in front of her.

“What do I tell my friends about you?” The question just came out. He paused, then slowly set down the cocktail shaker. “I didn’t tell them that we met. I should have. I don’t like being dishonest, but… they like you and I don’t want—”

“It’s about boundaries,” he said, sliding a flat hand along the bar until his fingers twined between hers, their palms on the cool marble. “You set them early and stick to them. Your friends are a good place to start. If they truly are your friends, they won’t push you. The docu crew will push you. Decide your boundaries and no matter what, under all circumstances, stick to them.”

“You know a lot about this.”

“I’ve been doing it a long time.”

“Your whole life is this,” she said, glimpsing his perspective. “People, expectation. How do you know who to trust?”

“You get a nose for it,” he said. “For those who are insincere, and there are a lot of them. It takes a while and no one is right a hundred percent of the time.”

“It’s a horrible way to live, to be suspicious of people every minute.”

“I think of it more as protecting those who are important to me,” he said.

He didn’t have family to protect. Talk at Sunset came to mind.

Roxie moistened her lips. “You’re friends with Knox Collier.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Protecting him?”

“And others.”

There were people that he cared about. More evidence that there was a human behind the unshakeable suave façade.

“What do boundaries look like?” she asked.

“You decide the limit of what you’ll share or facilitate.”

“You don’t introduce anyone to your famous friends, that sort of thing.”

He snickered. “If I didn’t introduce people, half the world wouldn’t make a living.” Flashing his arrogance… again. Calling him on it with a head tilt got only a half-smile response. “I don’t introduce the people I care about to anyone I don’t care about.”

Closing one eye, she tried to figure that out. “So there’s a difference, professional and personal, is that what you mean?” He nodded once. “But Drew Harvey on the talk show said you were responsible for some famous marriages.”

“My network is complicated, and my rules vary depending on my relationship with a person,” he said. “If I think people are suited, I’d speak to both of them individually before introducing them. Likewise, if someone asked to be introduced to another person, I would check before facilitating that meeting. I never give contact details without permission either.”

She smiled and leaned a little closer. “Bet you don’t give them even with that. You’d have Slick do it.”

“Slick?”

Roxie shrugged. “The young guy who works with Astrid, wears too much gel in his hair.”

By the twist of his lips, it was clear her observation entertained him. “I get it,” he said, chuckling. “That’s Tibbs.”

She’d sort of guessed that, though it had never been confirmed. “You should leave the house every morning assuming someone will run their fingers through your hair.”

“That’s your rule?”

“Just smart. Think about it, if a woman’s close enough to run her fingers through your hair, you don’t want her mind to be on how soon she can wash her hands.”

“No,” he said. “I guess you don’t.”

The intriguing slant of his mouth drew her in. “Why do you do that? Look at me like I’m strange.”

“Not strange, unique,” he said. “You look at things in a way… Sometimes I think I’ve heard everything.”

“You must meet all kinds of people. From all over the place.”

“Mm hmm.”

The longer they sat there, assessing each other, the more Roxie wished she was in her Lola pajamas. The ease of the intimate mood suited a cozy night in rather than one on the Vegas Strip.

“I should go,” she said, but stayed put.

His brows rose. “Mm hmm.”

Neither of them moved. “The girls are waiting.”

“Yep,” he said, waiting another few seconds before sucking in a breath and letting go of her hand to straighten up. “I have a meeting in Henderson.”

“A meeting?” she asked as he got to his feet and leaned over the bar to retrieve something from the other side. “At this time of night?”

“In my line of work, more business is done in the dark than by daylight.”

He held his hand up and opened his fingers. A shimmer of light cascaded down from his fist, bouncing back on itself, swinging side to side.

Roxie steadied it to identify what it was. A large emerald cut diamond set on a pendant. “I don’t think you should call the woman you give this to a ‘meeting.’ Are you averse to the word ‘date’?”

“The guy I’m meeting is a third generation Vegas billionaire. Not a date,” he said, opening the chain to loop it over her head. “He can buy his own jewels.”

“Wait,” Roxie said, startled that he was putting it on her. “You can’t give it to me.” The cool metal settled against her body as she curled her fingers around the gem hanging over her breasts. “Is it real?”

“Yes,” he said, taking her fingers away from the diamond to admire it. “If you lose it, you have to tell Ballard immediately.”

“Immediately? So he can have me arrested?”

“No,” he said, amused again. “So he can cancel your credentials. It’s your security pass.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“There’s a chip built into the setting,” he said. “We don’t want our guests worried about codes or cards. The chip will speak to any protected doorway as you approach.”

“If I’m allowed in, the door will work. If I’m not, it won’t.” He nodded once. “Does that mean I should be careful about standing too close to protected doors? How will I know it’s protected?”

“It’s smart technology, Lola,” he said. “The door literally senses your approach. If you are not the person moving toward it, it won’t open. It doesn’t work only by proximity; the doors have motion sensitivity… Anything seriously restricted is behind more than one door anyway. Even if someone got through an initial door, they wouldn’t get through the second.”

“You’re a paranoid guy.”

“A smart guy,” he said and reached over the bar again. He put a small jewelry box on the bar and picked up his phone. “I also happen to have a relationship with Dyce Technologies.”

“They invented basically… everything.”

“And we have access to their R&D department.”

“Because you own part of that company too?” she asked, reading in his expression that he did. “I saw their CEO on the web one time, they were launching something or something.”

“Yeah? Couldn’t have been a successful launch if you can’t remember what it was for.”

“He smiles too much,” she said. “I got the impression he was counting his money while he talked to a bunch of suckers.”

He laughed. “I’ll tell Zane you said so,” he said, nodding at the box. “Put your thumb on top.”

“What?” Roxie asked, still recovering from the whiplash of the last comment. “You don’t mean that you’ll actually… You’re not really going to tell him I—”

“I sit on their board. We have an AGM coming up.”

Flicking her hair from her face with a quick head turn, Roxie didn’t know whether or not to believe him. “Did I just insult one of your friends?”

“Zane’s a serious guy. There’s nothing like feedback from the audience. Maybe the next launch will be even more successful.”

“I am not his target audience. My phone is like six years old. I’m definitely not an early adopter.” His expressive eyes twitched in question. “Yeah, I’m not a complete i***t. I minored in business.” He cleared his throat in what she was sure was a disguise for an instinctive laugh. Roxie glared. “You think I’m an i***t because I’m not one of your billionaire buddies?”

“No. I’m sorry, I… I imagine you’d be more of a distraction than an asset in the boardroom.”

“Because I’d actually ask questions rather than toe the company line?”

“Toeing the company line is not something you’d ever be accused of, Lola,” he said. “You’re too honest to make it at the top level, and believe me, that’s a compliment.” Roxie wasn’t so sure, but he kept on smiling and gestured at the box again. “Put your thumb on top.”

Still side-glaring at him, she shifted the box to do as he said. “Why are we doing this?”

“Hold it there.”

He was doing something on his phone again. This time, Roxie peeked. “Am I your patsy?”

“No,” he said, another laugh riding the word.

“You smile too much too,” she muttered.

“Only when you’re around, Lola,” he said without giving pause. “Okay, you’re good.”

“I can move now?” she asked and got the nod. “What was that for?”

“Just toss the box into your room on your way out.”

“I get to keep the box?”

“And the pendant,” he said. “Put the pendant in the box if you take it off. It’s coded to your thumbprint.”

“Wow,” she said, picking up the box. It looked like any other jewelry box, an off-the-charts high-end one, but still a jewelry box. “It would be impressive if it wasn’t for one major flaw.”

“What’s that?”

“If someone wants to steal it…” Roxie held up the box. “They can take it in this.”

“The chip won’t work while it’s in the box.”

“So they could steal it, but not use it? I guess that gives me time to tell your buddy that it’s gone. The diamond is probably worth more than most people make in a year. That’s worth selling on its own.”

“It’s insured,” he said, opening an arm. “Your friends are waiting.”

Leaving? Yes, she was supposed to leave. Downing the last of her drink, she hopped off the stool, ready to hit the road. The rest of her had a different plan. Dizzy, she caught his arm to balance herself. Heels on marble while her blood was twenty proof wasn’t a great combination.

“I’m good,” she said, letting go of him in a hurry. “All good.”

Staying close, he began to walk her toward the entrance. “Ballard will look after you,” he said. “He’ll drive you there and take you in the side.”

“I can’t go in the front? Because you can’t show the world you’ve lowered your standards so far?”

“Gotta keep up appearances, Lola, you understand.”

He was hilarious, in his own way.

“Now I won’t feel guilty about not drinking all night,” she said, head held high. “I won’t be lining your pockets.”

“You can use any of the facilities and won’t pay for your drinks.”

News flash! “I won’t? Why won’t I?”

“Because you’re my guest.”

“Wish I’d known that before I went to the liquor store.”

He frowned. “There weren’t drinks in your room?”

“Do you know how expensive those minibar products are?” The pitch of his mouth adjusted again. “Okay, fine, so you can afford it. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in spending your money.”

He bowed a little lower. “You’re on the company dime, Miss Kyst.”

“So I can bankrupt it with booze?”

“You can try,” he said. “The media might recognize the spending anomaly in our financials. If you’re happy to face their scrutiny, have at it. Don’t think I’ll cover for you, I’ll point right at you in public when we start to talk layoffs.”

Shaking her head, his enjoyment at her expense was perplexing. He was so different from what she’d first assumed. “Zairn,” she whispered, stepping closer when he straightened.

“What?” he asked when she didn’t follow his name with anything.

“Nothing, I… don’t think I’ve said it before. In my head, you’re Lomond.”

“My last name isn’t an insult.”

“No,” she said. Her hand rose of its own volition. When her fingers sank into his hair, she grinned. “I’ll keep those to myself.”

Stroking his hair, she didn’t feel any impetus to stop or apologize.

“Too much gel?”

“No,” Roxie breathed, her fingers repeating their motion in his tapered businessman hairstyle.

His soft locks were always perfectly styled. Its length would look just as good relaxed… maybe better. Maybe Zairn wanted the world to believe he didn’t do relaxed… her private time with him revealed that wasn’t so.

They couldn’t stand there all night. She exhaled and lowered her hand.

“Have a good time,” he said. “Ballard will get you whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” she said as he opened the door.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was going to be at the club later when she spotted the man in the outer hallway. He came over from the elevator, fixed on Zairn.

“Roxie Kyst, this is Sean Ballard.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Ballard said as a formality. His attention quickly switched back to his boss. “Og going over with you?”

“No, I’ll drive.”

“Last time you did that in Vegas we didn’t see you for three weeks.”

“Risk is the way of this city,” Zairn said, laying a hand on the small of her back to ease her out. “Enjoy yourself, Lola. Take care of her.”

The door closed, sealing her in the hallway with Ballard. About the same height as Zairn, he was bulkier, security must be his usual gig.

“You’re the guy who accused me of threatening Zairn.”

“Water under the bridge, Miss Kyst,” he said, stepping back to press the elevator button. “Shall we go get your friends?”

Despite being in Vegas, she was losing the urge to party. Still, her girls expected it and Roxie couldn’t let them down.