CHAPTER ELEVEN


 

Back in her room, Emma zipped her suitcase closed. She went into the bathroom to check that she’d packed everything, then gazed one last time around the room.

The week hadn’t gone as planned, that’s for sure. She’d come to Las Vegas to reconnect with her sister and father, only to lose them both for good.

Last night, after she’d recovered sufficiently from her hangover and video-called her friends, Amber and Tash had been jointly dismayed and horrified at what Emma had learned.

As Emma relayed all that had happened with Dad, no, not-Dad, Amber had picked up her phone and began scrolling through it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m booking a seat on the next flight. You can’t be alone with all of this. It’s too much.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you can’t throw away all your savings to come here. What about Marcus and going to visit him in London? You’ve been saving for years, Ams, and you’re so close. You can’t let him down.”

Amber and Marcus’s five-year long-distance relationship was one for the records and Emma wouldn’t be a party to it coming undone. Yes, she desperately missed her friends. But she was a grown-up. This situation was hers to deal with. She’d be okay. She would.

Now, she tamped down the stab of guilt at not having told her friends about her liaison with Lachlan. They wouldn’t believe it for starters. Emma just wasn’t that type of girl.

Besides, she wanted to keep him to herself for just a bit longer. She’d tell them when she got home, on a girl’s night over two glasses of white wine and sad songs. When she could laugh about it.

Her fingers closed around the handle on her suitcase, and she picked up her handbag.

The sound of the telephone startled her, and she knocked over her suitcase.

“Ms Donovan?”

“Yes?”

“This is Rory from hotel reception. I have a call for you.”

“Um, who is it?” Emma sank onto the bed as something clicked in her ear.

Then a soft American voice said, “This is Michelle.”

Michelle. Not the sociopath super-model but her sister.

“Oh. Hello.”

“I’m back in New York,” Michelle said. “But Dad told me you were still at the hotel and I wanted to call. I didn’t know if you’d answer. It’s been a long time.”

“Two days, in fact.”

Michelle laughed, a low, husky sound that Emma could imagine made men fall all over themselves. “I’d forgotten how direct you can be.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything about you.”

“Dad also said that Mum never told you about the affair,” Michelle sighed. “I really am sorry. It must have been quite a shock to hear it like that.”

“Yeah, it was.” Understatement of the year.

“I wanted to apologise, as well. For how I reacted on Wednesday. I never expected to see you again.”

“Why not?”

Silence filled her ear, and Emma focused on the hum of the air conditioning.

“This is really too complex a conversation to have on the phone,” Michelle said. “But I had an idea. I’m not sure if you’ll be agreeable, after how I reacted after seeing you again.”

“What’s the idea?”

“I’ve got a photoshoot in Australia in December. We’ll be there for a week but I’m going to take extra time, that is, if you think you could meet me? Would you be able to get some more time off, do you think?”

“I’m a schoolteacher. December’s great for me.”

“Really?” Relief filled Michelle’s voice. “I’ll be in Melbourne, but I can come to you. Wherever you live.”

Emma’s heart squeezed. This is what she’d come all this way for. “That’d be great. I’ll look forward to it.”

“Do you have email? We could keep in touch until then.”

Emma recited her address.

“I’m sending you a message now,” Michelle said. “That way you’ll have my address too.”

“Great.” Emma said. “Michelle, I’m sorry for ambushing you at work on Wednesday. I just didn’t know how else to get in touch.”

“Well, it was a surprise,” Michelle laughed. “But I’m glad you did.” Her voice sobered. “Dad told me last night that Mum died. I’m sorry you had to go through that on your own.”

Emma swallowed. “Yeah, me too.”

“We have a lot of catching up to do. I’m really looking forward to December.”

Emma blinked back the sudden moisture in her eyes. “I am, too.”

They said goodbye and Emma flopped back on the mattress.

Michelle had rung. She wanted to keep in touch and meet in December when she came to Australia. She’d even arranged to take some time off so they could spend it together, catching up.

Emma’s heart swelled as she got up and collected her things. The trip hadn’t been a waste after all. She’d met her sister, with the promise of reconnecting in a few months’ time.

And Lachlan? How did she categorise that? And what if she was pregnant?

She pushed the panicked thought from her mind. It was unlikely she’d fall pregnant after just one night, wasn’t it? She’d deal with that if and when it happened.

If.

She headed for the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Emma still had ten days left of her vacation time but she wouldn’t spend it here. Maybe she’d go back to LA and do the Hollywood thing, or even head up to San Francisco or take a coach tour and see some of the country.

“Uh, Emma?”

She’d barely stepped out of the lift when that lovely, deep voice sent shivers sizzling down her spine. She turned to find Lachlan standing to the side of the lift foyer.

Had he been waiting for her?

He wore a grey t-shirt and black Levi’s with a pair of sunglasses tucked into the V at his neck. “You’re leaving?”

“Uh, yes.” Awkwardness loomed between them as she tried to aim for a casualness she didn’t feel. “You?”

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and rocked on his toes.

“Well, it’s—”

“Could we—”

His lips curved as he lifted a hand and gestured for her to speak first.

“I was just going to say I hope you have a safe journey home.” That was lame. She wanted to duck her head. Words failed her. Should she have said, “thanks for the hook-up, and I’ll call you in three months if you’re going to be a father again?”

“What time is your flight?”

“Oh. Uh, I haven’t booked one yet.” She tugged her suitcase closer. “I was just going to try and see what’s available.”

He pressed his lips together—those full, kissable lips—and she had to look away. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee first?”

He wanted to prolong this agony? Oh, no. Didn’t he know he was torturing her already? Images of what they might have got up to last night flitted through her brain, electrifying her skin. Her face was already on fire; the burn was scorching.

Taking a breath, Emma risked a glance and her heart melted. Brown eyes met hers, bathed in uncertainty. His teeth sank into the corner of his bottom lip for a single second. It was all she needed to change her mind.

“Sure.”

His lips curved into a relieved smile.

He reached for her suitcase and wheeled it behind him. With his other hand resting gently on her lower back, he guided her through the throng of guests and out to the pool area.

They exited through a different door and passed one of the fountains. Lachlan led her to an outdoor café that she hadn’t noticed before. Umbrellas were set up over the tables but there was under-cover seating too, and Lachlan had the waiter select them a quiet table in the shade.

Emma removed her cardigan and slid into the seat, wondering what Lachlan wanted to discuss. She caught his glance as he sat down and she looked away. He tucked her suitcase next to the table and then took the chair to her left.

If the midday heat hadn’t left her with a sheen of perspiration on the back of her neck, then Lachlan’s hand brushing hers as he reached for a menu did. She reached back to lift the hair off her neck, wishing she’d thought to tie it back before she’d left her room.

“Coffee?” Lachlan asked.

“Thanks,” she smiled. In her week here in Las Vegas, she was yet to find a decent cup of coffee. Americans preferred a much bitter flavour that Emma didn’t like.

“I have some time left here, too.” Lachlan said. “I thought I’d hire a car, do a bit of sightseeing. I can take you to the airport when you’re ready, if you like.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.”

“Emma, I like you.” Lachlan got straight to the point.

Her heart picked up the pace and began to pound in her chest. She opened her mouth but had no idea what to say, but Lachlan squeezed her hand before she could speak.

“I just—I wanted the chance to ask you out, properly. Last night, well, it’s not really me. I don’t remember much, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve so much more, Emma. I’d like the chance to do things right.”

Emma swallowed and tried to gather her thoughts. “I—

He squeezed her hand again, this time with a soft smile. “You said you’re not flying home straight away, so I was wondering if…maybe if you’d like to spend the week with me here.” At her surprised expression, he rushed on. “We can drive around, do a little sightseeing, whatever you’d like.” He offered another shy smile. “Separate rooms, of course.”

Was it wise? She’d known him less than a week. He was adjusting to life without his daughter, and she still had to pick up the pieces of the bombshell not-Dad had dropped. Starting a relationship right now was not the smartest idea.

He’d all but said that, too. He didn’t do flings. He was a commitment kind of guy. What was it he’d said? Taking a stand, doing the right thing. He’d raised his daughter alone for all those years. Commitment was Lachlan’s middle name. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d settle for a casual fling.

Neither was she. But could she do this? She was attracted to him, despite only knowing him the best part of a week. Her initial reaction—that he was a thief and possibly a liar—couldn’t have been more wrong. Lachlan was a decent, genuine man who’d worked for years to raise and provide for his daughter. He was exactly Emma’s type. But how could this work after they went home? He lived in another state.

She reined in her errant thoughts and took a deep breath. This was what she always did: over-analysed everything until the moment was gone and she lived with the regret. This time, she’d focus on here and now. This time, she could ask her herself: what did she want?

She would never meet anyone if she didn’t give herself a chance. Yes, she’d been hurt in the past but so had Lachlan. She could do this. She could give herself this chance at happiness. All her questions about her parentage could wait until she got home.

She glanced at Lachlan and saw the quiet hope in his gentle brown eyes, and any thought of taking the smart route dissolved like a mirage in the desert.

“I like the sound of spending some time with you.” Breathless she might be, but she meant every word.

His hand covered hers before linking their fingers. His lips curved into a smile that warmed every part of her.

He leaned closer, giving her every opportunity to move away.

She didn’t. Couldn’t.

He was so close. He smelled like delectable spiciness and she made the fatal mistake of lifting her eyes to his.

She sucked in a breath. His gaze, hot and heavy, sent delicious shivers all through her body. She couldn’t breathe as he lifted one hand and brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Lachlan—” His name caught in her throat.

When his lips brushed hers, the gentle pressure was new but instantly familiar. Her hand moved of its own accord, first to that wonderful, firm chest, and then to his cheek. He’d shaved this morning but she could feel a light stubble regrowing.

Pulling back, Emma gasped for air. “Oh!”

His gaze burned into her and his voice was husky. “Yeah. That.”

The waiter materialised at their table and they sprang apart as he collected their empty cups. Sharing a glance, they grinned at each other.

“Anything else, sir?”

“No, thanks, just the check.”

“You sound like a local.” Emma whispered, leaning toward him, as the waiter walked away. “I still can’t tip the bartender the right way.”

“You’ve got a week to practice.” He leaned closer too, his eyes on her.

It had been a long time since a man had looked at her the way Lachlan did, and she relished the zing that rushed through her as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

“There’s something I should tell you.” She stroked his cheek again because she just had to touch him.

“Mmm?”

“I like you, too.” She shivered as his pupils dilated until she was drowning in his gaze.

“Ahem.”

Emma jerked her head around as the waiter placed a small black folder on the table. Lachlan pulled out some cash, placed it in the folder and then closed, leaving it on the table. He rose, pulling out Emma’s chair. “Let’s get out of here.”

After Emma checked-out, and they stood in front of the hotel waiting for the valet, Lachlan brushed her shoulder with his. She glanced at him and her heart fluttered at the small smile playing on his lips.

“Your car, sir.” The valet held out the keys.

Lachlan took them and wheeled Emma’s suitcase to the shiny, black jeep in the driveway.

“You hired a jeep?”

He flashed her a grin as he opened her door and settled her in the seat, leaning in to kiss her before closing the door. He rounded the jeep, got in and started the engine.

“So, what are your navigation skills like?” His voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it.

“Excellent. What are your driving skills like?”

“On the wrong side of the road? We’re about to find out.” He shot her a grin and pulled into the queue of taxis and limousines heading down the hotel drive to join Las Vegas Boulevard.

“You know, it feels so weird sitting on this side of the car when there’s no steering wheel in front of me.” She held her hands up to where the wheel would have been if she’d been driving at home. But everything was back to front over here and it was disconcerting, to say the least. She dropped her hands into her lap.

She shivered at the thought of the week ahead. She was doing it. She was taking a chance on herself; on Lachlan; on the possibility of this friendship becoming something more.

Lachlan pulled up for a red light at the end of the hotel’s long drive. He leaned across to the glovebox and pulled out a spiral booklet. “A road map of Nevada, courtesy of the car hire company.” He handed it to her but also tapped a screen in the dashboard. “And we’ve got a SatNav system so we can’t get lost in the desert.”

The light changed and Lachlan pulled out into the flow of traffic.

Emma flicked through the map until she found a street map of Las Vegas. She pinpointed their location, then glanced at the passing casinos and hotels. Soon, they’d have nothing but the open road in front of them.

“What would your daughter say if she knew you and the fruit cake lady were driving off into the sunset?”

Lachlan glanced over at her and his lips curved into a carefree smile. “She’d remind me that fruit cake has always been my favourite kind of cake.”

 

 

The End

 

 

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