The king of
the Vegas underworld may have everyone else fooled with his dark, brooding
eyes, hard body, and expensive suits, but not me.
I knew
Gideon Kane back when he was a mere prince under his father’s twisted thumb.
Back when he wanted nothing more than to escape that legacy and this town, and
take me with him . . .
As princess
of the elite Cameo Gentlemen’s Club, I was raised in a world of sensual
pleasures and sinful fantasies. My own tarnished legacy, created by strong,
independent women who understood where true power lies.
Who also
happened to be in business with the mob.
And I
stupidly fell for the heir to that empire, heart and soul.
Until he
shattered me.
That’s
ancient history now that I’m at the helm of Cameo and someone is viciously
murdering my dancers and escorts. It’s my bad luck that Gideon’s organization
heads up my security, so I’m forced to work with him until this killer is
brought to justice—or until I spontaneously combust from the sizzling chemistry
we still can’t escape.
Sex is just
sex, however. And nobody said a thing about love. Or trust. After all, the
princess learned a few tricks from her prince once upon a time . . .
“So, I’m the devil now?” he asked, slow strolling around the hood,
tieless, his shirt still untucked. His hair sticking up in spikes from my
fingers clawing through it.
“Interesting that you assumed I meant you,” I said, lifting my chin and
pulling his jacket tighter around me.
There was a long pause in which tired eyes locked in some last-ditch
effort at battle before he conceded and stopped just out of touching distance.
“Is that what you think it was up there?” he asked, crossing his arms over his
chest. Good arms. Stop looking at his
arms. “Some sort of payment for services?”
“No,” I said on a bitter laugh. “I was told earlier that I’m too proper
for that.”
One eyebrow raised. “Whoever finds you proper didn’t see you half an hour
ago.”
I licked my lips, ignoring the heat that memory sent through me. “I don’t
know what that was, Gideon,” I said. “Anger. Grief. Letting off steam.”
“Lust,” he quipped.
“Closure.”
“Closure,” he echoed, drawing the word out as the surprise played through
his features, circling something almost real before landing back on arrogance.
“Interesting that you assume it won’t
happen again—Miss Vaughn.”
I crossed my arms as well, letting the jacket drift open. Letting his
gaze slide over what was left of my clothing and everything he’d filled his
hands with earlier. My inner muscles tightened as tiny fires igniting along my
flesh. Part of me wanted to slap that smug look off his face so hard that he’d
choke on that Miss Vaughn comeback of
his and forget my name entirely, but I could still smell him on me, and it was
maddening.
When his eyes came back up to meet mine, they were darker, glazed over,
and all that was stupid inside me couldn’t help but wonder if his cock was hard
again.
I was f*cking doomed.
So, I stepped closer.
“Well, I can promise you this much,” I said, trailing a finger down his
torso and tugging on a shirttail. “Keep calling me that, and it definitely
won’t happen again.”
I caught the slightest hint of a tug at his lips as I turned and
sauntered up the sidewalk.
Yeah, game on.
Unless he followed me, but I wasn’t about to turn back around.
Ten steps. Fourteen. Nineteen steps I counted until I entered the
building and walked in, shutting Gideon Kane on the other side.
“F*ck, Charli, what are you playing at?” I whispered, sagging against the
door.
Savvi V is a dynamic writing duo of two friends who came
together over their shared love of hot, alpha heroes, feisty, smart-mouthed
heroines, and smexy, melt-your-panties romance. We also love ogling tatted up
guys, coffee of all kinds, and indulging in dessert first! We hope you'll join
the fun because it's all about the V with us!