What Happened in Vegas…

“Does he always dress like that?” Gideon asked, glancing back as the door clicked shut.

“Yes.”

“Is he color-blind?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Okay. Takes all kinds, I guess.” He faced her again. His gaze slid from her face down her body, leaving burn marks in its wake.

She fought against his allure, against memories she had no business recalling. It was as if the past six years faded away in a single moment. But, beneath the desire that somehow, inexplicably, hadn’t diminished, was an odd combination of fear and anger.

Hadn’t she fought, clawed and finessed her way out of her old life? Hadn’t she convinced herself wild, impulsive decisions led nowhere productive? Didn’t she now have the respectability she’d always longed for? Weren’t all the sacrifices worth her own office, an assistant and her first auction?

He settled into the chair in front of her desk. “I always thought that ‘it’s a small world’ expression was a bit trite, but here we are living it.”

She remained standing. Every advantage seemed vital at the moment. “I guess we are.”

His gaze flicked over her again. “You’re different.”

“You’re not.”

She remembered the same half smile on his face as he’d gazed up at her on the Vegas club stage where she’d danced for college tuition money, where she’d been anonymous and bold. Exotic and sensual. Half-dressed. Cheap. Hiding her ambition behind a stage name and thick layer of hair spray and lip gloss.

“What happened to Jacy Powers?” he asked, his voice deep and husky, just as she remembered it.

“Gone. She’s not coming back.”

“What a shame. I liked her.”

She closed her eyes briefly. Dear heaven. “I didn’t.” Opening her eyes, she forced herself to glare at him. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to talk to a potential benefactor?”

Digging deep for the elegance she’d fought so hard to cultivate, she eased herself into her chair. “No, but since you’re not one, I feel perfectly comfortable being direct.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” He smiled. “I’m just an adventurer chasing a pipe dream.”

Yet she’d still been tempted to follow him. She’d actually considered trading her future and her dreams for this man. “Aren’t you?”

“Most of the time. Aren’t you going to ask if I ever found the Diamond of Sierra?”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Talk about a pipe dream. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

Despite herself, she was impressed. During the brief time they’d spent together, he’d assured her he was well on his way to finding great treasure and achieving fame. Though their chemistry was fantastic, and he was charming and fun, she hadn’t believed a word he said. He’d shared too many characteristics with the endless parade of guys through Vegas’s casinos with dollar signs in their eyes and surefire plans to beat the house.

Now, however, she recognized how different he’d been from those dreamers. His plans had relied not on the luck of the draw but on solid research. She also recognized that a gem of the size and fame of the Sierra could bring a great deal of publicity to her auction. “Do you still have it?”

“You’d probably like to have it in your upcoming auction.”

She leaned back in her chair. This was why he’d come. He wasn’t trying to dig up the past and jeopardize her reputation. He was looking to make money. She’d be glad to accommodate him. “Naturally.”

“Sorry. I sold it soon after I acquired it.” He angled his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t take notice.”

After their wild weekend together, she’d thought about double-checking his claims. She’d nearly approached the friend who’d introduced them about a hundred times to ask her the whole story about the sexy, mysterious Gideon Nash.

But Jacinda had only been into that weekend for fun. She wasn’t like her mother, who actually believed the stories and promises men told her. Plus, Jacinda hadn’t wanted it getting around the club that she’d become sexually intimate with a customer. She’d needed that job, and Gideon was way too big a risk. Years later her discretion had paid off, since her boss agreed to tell people she’d been a waitress when potential employers—especially high-dollar ones like the auction house—called her references.

“I thought it was best to make a clean break,” she said.

“I expected you at the airport.”

Jacinda shook her head. “No, you didn’t.” Laying her hands on her desk, she forced herself to calmly link her fingers. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

“I want to see the emerald.”

“What em—” She clenched her hands as she realized the auction piece he had to be referring to. “The Veros family emerald?”

He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, that one.”

Though curious about his interest in the stone, she knew there was no way he had the kind of money necessary to actually buy the emerald. Who turned treasure hunter/aimless adventurer into a profitable profession?

She managed a polite smile. “The auction is next week. If you’d like a catalog—”

He stood. “I want to see the emerald now.”

“We don’t do previews. The auction—”

“Yes, you do. For VIP clients.” He paused, his gaze hitting hers like a laser. “I’d think you’d be glad to do a favor for an old friend.”

“You’re not a friend.”

“No, I was much more.” He angled his head. “Or was I?”

Visions of slick skin, rippling muscles and blazing green eyes raced through her mind. Over the years there were moments she was sure she could smell him, moments she just knew he’d been in her car, or her apartment. He never was, of course. But the memories of them together were so strong, so vivid, she couldn’t completely set them aside. No matter how hard she fought.

“We weren’t anything,” she said.

He clutched his hands over his heart. “Aw, now my feelings are hurt.”

“I don’t want to get into a confrontation with you.”

“Then don’t. Show me the emerald.”

She sighed in the face of his determination. Maybe he’d heard the rumors about the gem’s beauty, wanted to see it and had hoped to charm the auction director into allowing the viewing. Now he was using their linked past to push his way into the vault. Maybe the stone had been lost once-upon-a-time, and he’d tried to find it. Maybe a competitor had beaten him to its recovery.

Hell, maybe he’d tried to steal, swindle or connive the emerald from somebody and failed.