Page 66 of Sinful Escape

“It was lovely. I’m surprised I’ve never heard of it before,” Bronwyn said.

“You’re not alone,” I said. “I haven’t met many Americans who know of it.”

“That’d be right,” Bronwyn agreed. “Americans don’t tend to travel much.”

“True. I see more Australians than Americans.” Although the demographic breakup on this month’s tour was vastly different to that statistic. More than a quarter of the passengers were American. In all my tours, that was a first.

I continued up the aisle, chatting with each of the guests, and stopped before the men in the back row. “Hey guys, how’re you traveling?”

I offered the macarons and they each launched a hand into the box.

“What’re tonight’s plans?” Mike spoke with a mouthful of pink macaron.

Men are gross. “Tonight’s a free night. You can do whatever you want.”

“What do you suggest?” Mike’s stunning blue eyes captured me, and for a brief, stupid moment, I was convinced he liked what he saw.

I needed my head read. Guys like Mike weren’t interested in girls like me.

Dragging my gaze from Mike, I cleared my throat. “You guys will probably enjoy the casinos.”

“Shit yeah.” Anthony rubbed his hands as if rolling a pair of dice.

“There are a few casinos in Monaco, all offering something a little different. When I return to the front, I’ll explain the casino choices to everyone.” I glanced down at the seven remaining macarons. “Anyone want another one?”

All but Brett reached for another. Maybe with his wedding coming up, he felt the need to watch his weight. That was probably the only good thing about my body. For some reason, I’ve never had to worry about what I ate.

I strolled down the aisle and grabbed the microphone. “Okay, troublemakers, as you know, tonight is a free night. The rebels at the back were asking about the casinos.”

“Of course they were,” Tiffany said with a grin. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she turned to glance at the back row, and Mike blew her a kiss. Tiffany was exactly the type of woman I could picture Mike with: sexy, blonde, tall, and a stunning hourglass figure. My prediction was that the two of them would hook up at some point during this tour.

I continued. “Monaco offers a few casino choices. The most iconic one is Monte Carlo. It was built in 1863, and the building is spectacular. If you’re interested, it’s the best place for celebrity spotting. But there’s a strict dress code. Men must wear jackets. You’ll need ID, and there’s also a ten-euros entry charge.”

“Fuck that.” Samson, the New Zealander, had a limited vocabulary.

“If that doesn’t appeal to you, Samson, there’s the Sun Casino. It’s an American-style casino with a much more casual atmosphere. No dress code or entry fee.”

“That’s more like it.” Samson grinned at Shamus, the Irishman at his side. I’d noticed that the two of them had been hanging out together since they’d met on the rooftop in Paris.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Why did I find making friends so hard?

I let loose a long, shaky breath and continued describing the other two casinos.

“Tomorrow, we leave at midday on the dot, so regardless of how bad your hangovers are, do not be late.” I aimed my glare at the boys in the back. I’d seen my share of Mikes who lost track of time in a casino and were still gambling at nine in the morning. The casinos were good at luring so-called lucky punters into a time warp with offers of free drinks, never-ending ‘winner’ jingles, and lighting that didn’t distinguish between day and night. “Mike, did you hear me?”

He palmed his chest. “Why you looking at me?”

Anthony clapped him on the back. “’Cause she’s got you figured out, dickhead.”

While I had their attention, I offered a few more interesting facts about Monaco.

When Roman drove into the hotel parking lot, I finished by reiterating tomorrow’s midday departure time and a threat that we’d leave anyone who missed it behind.

Of course, that was a lie. Like the army’s creed, we left no man behind. That little company policy had once cost me a full-day delay. But I’d never forget the gratitude from Rodger after I’d rescued him from jail. It was a good story though. Since then, every time we approached Rome, I always warned the tourists not to strip off and swim in the Trevi Fountain.

Thirty minutes later, the guests had disappeared to their rooms and Roman and I were the only ones left in the hotel lobby.

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