Loving the Odds (What Happens in Vegas) Read Free Page A

No tie.
    “I don’t care if Columbia University did a study on it; your penis is none of my concern.”
    He chuckled and the sound raced through her nervous system like 110 volts of electricity. “You know, I might suggest that to them. I’m sure plenty of people would be interested.”
    Her eyes flickered nervously over him, trying to avoid being drawn to their topic of conversation. But that was like telling someone not to think about a pink elephant. “Well, I’m not.”
    “Then why do you keep looking down there?”
    His gaze was locked onto her as if her thoughts played across her face. It unnerved her, since she was so used to skulking in the shadows of dullness.
    But he looked at her as though she existed . Like she was a real life human being. Which was a step up, since most men viewed her as though she fell somewhere on the spectrum between dust mites and potted plants.
    “I’m not.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m simply trying to figure out a problem.”
    “Have you misplaced your key?” His brows gathered above a perfectly straight nose. “I’m sure the concierge will be able to issue a new one.”
    “This isn’t my room,” she admitted, her fingers tugging at the silk bow tied tightly at the base of her neck.
    “Whose room is it?”
    She was unsure whether or not to tell this stranger the truth. On one hand, she didn’t like to lie unless absolutely necessary. Her parents had raised her better than that. On the other hand, he could report her to hotel security. Then she’d have no chance of getting her grandfather’s watch from Julian.
    But he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who was a rule-follower—not with all that blatant penis talk, anyway—and technically she hadn’t done anything wrong yet. Unless you counted the loitering.
    “My ex is staying here,” she said. “He has something of mine and I want it back.”
    “Did he steal from you?”
    She nodded, the anger bubbling up anew. “It’s my grandfather’s watch. I gave it to him because I thought we were going to get married. When we broke up he kept it…which was not part of the deal.”
    “He sounds like a bastard.”
    “You got that right.”
    They hovered there for a moment and Bailey look forlornly at the hotel room door. “I thought about sneaking into his room to hide in the wardrobe.”
    The stranger’s lips curved up into a wicked smile. “Why didn’t you?”
    “Well, first I thought about the chances of being able to get into the room. I’d have to convince the cleaning staff to let me in since the people at reception know I’m not staying in this room. What if the room has already been cleaned? Or what if they came back too late? Or what if he arrives before I get into the room?” She ticked the possible problems off her fingers. “Then, even if I did get in, I’d have to wait for him to show up. Sometimes if he’s had too much to drink, he sleeps with the watch on. Or what if he didn’t go to sleep for hours and I had to stay in the wardrobe all that time. Or what if…”
    The last possible downside made her wince.
    “Or?” The man prompted.
    “What if he’s staying with a woman?”
    “I see.”
    “And that would be very…” She pursed her lips. “Awkward.”
    The man turned his room key over in his hands, his gray-green eyes watching her thoughtfully. “So you’re not going to break into his room?”
    “No, there are too many things that could go wrong.” A stray strand of hair brushed against her ear and she reached up to tuck it back into her chignon. “I need to find another way.”
    “Would you like a drink while we brainstorm?” The invitation seemed even more enticing in his whisky-smooth voice. “My treat.”
    Ordinarily, she wouldn’t accept a drink invitation from someone she’d just met. There were too many unknowns, and safety was always a concern. But there was something soothing about this man’s presence. He exuded calmness and capability. Two things she