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Alessandra walked into the room, toward the glass dining room table. She felt Beau come up behind her, too close. She turned. The sultry way he was looking at her brought back how much she’d loved him twenty years ago.I need to be careful. It would be too easy for her feelings to return, especially since she hadn’t felt anything similar with another man since Beau.
Up until now, she’d thought that was a good thing. Now, with him here, she wondered if it was adding to the neediness she felt for him. It was pulling at her heart and between her legs.
When he spoke, his voice was husky. “Come on, tell the truth now. Do you still…?”
Alessandra wondered if he could read her mind. “Do I still, what?”
“Do you still have a wild side, Alessandra? I don’t believe for a minute that you are too busy to have a little fun with an old friend.”
“An old friend, really? Is that what you’d call it?” Alessandra asked quietly, her eyes challenging his. If it was going to keep him happy, she’d play this little game. After all, happy gamblers were profitable gamblers.
Beau took her face in his hands and looked at her. “You know it was more than that.”
Alessandra remembered how those gray-black eyes had first sucked her in years ago. “Nah, just a little fling in our twenties,” she lied.
“I beg to differ.” He lowered his lips to hers. Alessandra knew she should push him away, but instead, she reminded herself that she was in control. She was using Beau. She needed him to increase profits, and she would do whatever it took to make that happen. To help the casino.
She kissed him back, opening her lips to his. Beau moved a hand around her waist, pulling her hips toward his. He was hard against her as he continued the kiss and moved his other hand through her hair. Alessandra pressed against his hard cock involuntarily, her insides wanting more pressure.
Sensing her need, Beau lifted Alessandra up onto the glass table. “I hope these tables are well-made.”
“Nothing but the best for our high-rollers,” she joked.
Beau drew Alessandra tight against him, lifting her skirt. He pulled her legs to wrap around his waist. The kiss grew deeper. She felt skin against skin as one of his hands slid up her stomach toward her breasts. A warmth moved through her, pushing her to take more from this physical touch. His hand slipped inside her bra to play with her nipple, and she arched her back at his touch.
“God, how I missed these,” he said, tweaking her nipple slightly. The sensation sent electricity down to her clit, and her hips moved like they had a mind of their own. They seemed not to notice that Beau’s pants were on or that she was still wearing underwear. She ground against him. The feeling of his hands exploring her breasts combined with the pressure against her groin caused a familiar rising sensation to begin. It was ridiculous, really. They could take their clothes off right now.
As if feeling the same way, Beau whispered, “Come to the bedroom, Alessandra.” It felt like a command more than a question.
Alessandra’s head was spinning. She was split between two selves and felt far from in control. The casino executive in her needed him to win and knew this would help. The young woman in her twenties had been desperately in love with this man who broke her heart. For the young woman, this kiss represented hope, a second chance at love.
Alessandra, the casino executive, told that young woman to shut up. This kiss represented something far more important than love—the ability to control the outcome. The outcome of his weekend at The Benson. And maybe, a new outcome to their relationship—one where she got to do the leaving. But it was too soon. What Beau Brooks wanted was the chase, nothing else. If she let him get this right now, he might get bored too soon.
Wanting to portray a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she extricated herself from him. She pulled her skirt down and scooted off the table. “Sorry, Beau. I can’t. This little kiss has been fun and all, but I really do have work to do.” She had to get out of there soon, because right now, all she wanted to do was stay.
“Alessandra, I wanted to ask—”
“Nope, can’t chat, either. Have to go.” She hurried to the door. “Tell you what. I’ll stop by and say hi to you and Sailor later. Maybe we can catch up then?”
Beau’s look was sour.Good, let him be disappointed.He’ll come back wanting more. “See you then,” was all he said as she closed the door behind her.
Damn, that kiss, Beau thought. Alessandra left, with no other response. He shouldn’t do that again. He’d want to do that again, but he shouldn’t. What they’d had together was a long time ago.
It was now her job to make him a happy customer. Is that why she kissed him back? If she’d joined him in the bedroom, he’d know she was attracted to him. But since she left so abruptly, he was suspicious of her motives—not that he cared all that much.
Maybe she kissed him back to remind him of what he’d missed when he’d left her so many years ago. Maybe she kissed him back to get him to gamble more. Whatever the reason — if she wanted some sort of revenge sex; if she wanted to make his stay…more pleasurable—he’d be willing to oblige. No strings attached. The past was in the past.
He wanted to see her again after he left Las Vegas twenty years ago. But when he found out she’d been fired, he was too embarrassed to contact her. He knew she’d be angry, and he didn’t want to see her wrath. He’d been young and stupid, a coward for not addressing it head-on. Later, when he’d mustered the courage to call, her number had changed and he didn’t know where she was working.
How circumstances had evolved. Now she was running the entire resort. Whatever she did or didn’t do was driven by a motivation to ensure The Benson’s success. Over the years, he’d heard about her reputation on the Strip.
Alessandra Caro was respected as an executive with a magic touch for success. Wherever she was, she constantly found ways to achieve higher and higher profits, usually at the expense of her competitors. There were times Beau knew which resort she was at, and he’d thought about visiting her. But by then, it seemed like too much time had passed.
Beau was practical. He knew all resort presidents cultivated what seemed like real friendships with their customers. Nevertheless, when she’d kissed him back, it didn’t seem like she was doing it out of a business necessity. Except that when she left without much of an explanation, it was perplexing. Still, it was the middle of her workday, so maybe she really was busy.
Their past floated around his head as Beau unpacked. When they were both younger, they’d had some wild times together, for sure. He’d always been wealthy, so even then, he’d been well taken care of as a gambler—luxury dinners, private jets, tickets to all the concerts. As his casino host, Alessandra had accompanied him to it all.
They’d had chemistry, but they didn’t act on it until his third trip to Las Vegas. They’d been in a limousine, on their way out to Lake Mead for a private yacht trip. The screen to the driver was closed, and Beau was drunk.
