Seducing Seven (What Happens in Vegas) Read Free

the rules?”
    With a slow nod, she adjusted her bags. “I’ll seduce a man, using the seven rules the heroine used in my book.”
    “Seduce?”
    She rolled her eyes. “You know the word. And no worries—even though his seduction will mean I win, he’ll be greatly rewarded.”
    “With what?”
    “With me.” She looked away and then back, biting her lip.
    His body tensed. She had to be kidding. “With you?”
    She gave one jerk of her chin and challenge flashed in her eyes. “With me. And if I win, you have to buy ten of my books and…” Her mouth spread into a wicked grin. “You’re here for business, aren’t you?”
    He stilled. “Sales. So what?”
    “You have meetings?”
    A feeling of dread washed over him, but he couldn’t put a finger on why, so he nodded, still not sure what she was getting at.
    She jabbed his chest. “You have to pass them out to your colleagues at a meeting and sell it, legitimately, as a guide to close the deal.”
    “Woman, you must be batshit crazy. There is no way—”
    She threw her head back and laughed, then nailed him with a narrow look. “So you are afraid you’ll lose.”
    Why the little— He fisted his hands at his sides. “Fine. Deal.”
    The surprise on her face soothed him, but only a little. He had a plan of his own.
    Lips he’d felt against his own only minutes before spread wide across the woman’s face, and she sent him a victory wink. How had he ever thought that mouth was small? His body tightened in memory.
    What the hell? She wasn’t his type at all.
    She turned to leave.
    “Not so fast.” He checked his watch. Two minutes. He absolutely had to leave in two minutes. “What the hell is your name, anyway?”
    With a slight pucker to her mouth, she studied him, then lifted her badge. Sevannah Michaels. “You can call me Seven.”
    “Are you kidding?” What the hell kind of name was Seven?
    She waited.
    Stepping close so she had to crane her neck to look up at him, he narrowed his eyes down at her. “If I win, you have to announce at your last banquet or party, or whatever the hell you women have going on, that your book is a fraud, nothing but fiction written out of desperation and read by bored, insecure women.”
    Her eyes flared, but she held her ground, though her hands wringing at her waist were interesting. Tilting her head to the side, she leaned back and looked him over. “Desperation is right if you’re the example of what the male masses have to offer.”
    “One more thing. I choose the man.”
    She stared at him a beat and then looked around up and down the hallway. “Fine, who do you want to—”
    “Me.”
    Her eyes went wide. “What? Hell no. No way.”
    This was going to be the easiest wager he’d ever placed. He never backed down from a challenge, and he always won. If he could do anything right this weekend, it would be setting straight hundreds of irrational women. And he’d arranged it in four minutes flat. Fuck, he should be given a Man of the Year award.
    Leaning toward her, his arms crossed at his chest, he wiggled his brow. “Scared you’ll lose?” There was no doubt in his mind she would, because losing wasn’t in his vocabulary. Love was not part of his vocabulary, not part of his reality. The idea of him falling for this little woman—not being able to say good-bye come Sunday—was about as likely as him becoming a male model. He chuckled. This was going to be too easy.
    Taking a step back, she pulled in a breath. “I know I’ll win, so I hope you’ll be able to handle my good-bye on Sunday when I do.”
    His chuckle turned into an outright guffaw. Was this chick serious? “Your good-bye? Yeah, I’ll try to handle it.”
    Seven looked him in the eye. “Are you sure? I don’t actually want to hurt anyone here.”
    Blake looked around. Surely there was a camera hidden somewhere and this was all a joke. “Lady, the only thing broken will be your pride.”
    She blew out a breath and extended her hand.