The Billionaire's Gamble

I realize that Nolan has been talking and I wasn’t listening. His face looks broken—devastated. I try to focus on his words. “—just didn’t want to go to another meeting. This was never something I wanted to do. I’m only in this position because of my father and there’s no way out of it. I came to Vegas for meetings, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wanted to escape for a little. Vegas is good at letting you do that. At least it was until I became one of the most recognizable people in the country. I was on my way to another meeting when I saw you with that asshole.” He looks at me, and the grief shifts into a wry smile. “I went for a drink so I could play hooky. But you didn’t know who I was, and the longer I spent with you, the more I didn’t want it to end. I’ve never run off like that before, you just made it so easy.”

I’m staring at him, and I realize that I’ve forgotten to breathe. Inhaling sharply, I say, “You played hooky.” My mouth feels sluggish with words and realization. I hear myself and I sound incredulous. “You skipped out on a meeting for a multi-billion dollar company so that you could have a drink with me.”

He tugs his hand through his hair, and the way he does it—so automatic—makes me think it’s a nervous gesture. That he’s nervous right now, telling this to me. “That’s the truth. It was fun to be with someone who didn’t know who I was. I’m sick of people trying to get close to me because of money.”

I think about Gerard, how slimy he was when he mentioned money, and I get it. I really do. I reach out to him, gently tracing my fingers over his forearm. He watches me as I do it, like he’s holding his breath and waiting to see what I’ll do next. He doesn’t have to wait long. Something clicks into place with me, and I decide that it doesn’t matter. What happens doesn’t matter, because last night was amazing, and more importantly it was genuine. I stand up on my toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. “It’s okay,” I say. “I get it. Besides, last night was amazing. My sister would be very relieved to know I let myself do something ‘stupid’ for once.”

His arms encircle me, and I think to myself the paparazzi should have stuck around to see us. This is a much better picture. My phone beeps again and I snap back into reality, “Shit!” I curse, pulling free. “My flight. There’s no way I’m going to make it now unless you have a helicopter stashed on the roof.”

Nolan chuckles, reaching out and massaging my shoulders. It feels great. “No helicopter, but I do have an idea.”

“Does it involve time travel?” I ask, distracted by his hands and the fact that I absolutely can’t afford another flight.

He sweeps my hand into his, guiding me out to the elevator. “Let’s get your luggage. We’ll get lunch, and then I’ll buy you a new ticket home. It’s the least I can do.”

“I—seriously?”

“I’m very serious.” His eyes darken, making me flush.

“Deal,” I say, leaning into him, feeling myself relax as my anxiety is replaced with excitement. “Is closing a deal always this easy for you?”

“Sometimes.” He kisses my forehead, brushing my hair back from my face. “But,” he whispers, “few deals are as nice as this one.”

I believe him.

As I’m boarding the plane, I notice people looking at me. They’re not staring, but they’re doing that thing where they’re definitely trying to look me up and down while I don’t notice. At first I think it’s because I’m a mess. I haven’t showered, and even though I’ve tried to make myself presentable, I still have sex all over me. Hell, I still have last night’s dress on.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a stewardess says. “Can I see your ticket?” I pass it to her; she squints, then smiles. “This way, please.”

Now it’s my turn to give a funny look. I was already confused at being in such an early boarding group, and I’m even more so when she takes me only a few rows into the plane. “This is first class,” I say.

“Yes, of course.” She taps the ticket in my hand and pointing to the window seat. “That’s you. Get comfortable and let me know if you need anything.”

For a minute I look between my ticket to my seat. Nolan. He didn’t have to do this. Buying me a ticket was already fantastic—I didn’t realize that it was going to be first class. It’s a nice surprise.

Sitting down, I groan as I feel how soft the seat is. Damn, the rich have it good. I feel a twinge of jealousy that I’ve never felt before. Up until now, I’d always imagined that people with money were jerks. Spoiled rotten millionaires who had no time for anything but being asses and counting their wealth. Gerard was one, for sure. But Nolan…no. He’d been amazing. Memorable—that’s for damn sure.