Page 17 of Vegas Baby

“Excuse me?” she asked, brow raised.

“The statement speaks for itself.” Laughing, Howler settled his stocking foot on the ground and raised the other one. His thigh brushed hers, the heat of her body seeping into the cotton of his pants.

“My profession isn’t known for its honesty? You’re a sports agent.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m a liar?” He slipped his shoe on and tightened the laces. The aroma of her soft perfume drifted over to him and he inhaled the fresh scent.

“If the shoe fits,” she said, nudging his arm with her elbow.

“Couldn’t resist, could you?” He halted mid-motion, catching the flash of her tongue-in-cheek grin.

She was pretty when she smiled. While not a classic beauty, her nose was long and narrow, mouth wide and kissable. But it was those jewel-tone eyes that cut through his reserve and tempted him more than he’d ever expected.

“Nope.” She flattened the itinerary on her thigh, slim fingers smoothing the paper. “But yes, you’re a much better actor than I am. That’s what makes this farce even more, um, well farcical.”

“Then I suggest you nod, smile in agreement, and try to say as few words as possible. If you have to talk, focus on the mundane and keep to safe subjects. Or you can stare adoringly into my eyes and act pretty.”

“Act pretty, as in stupid?” She shook her head at his ridiculous statement, grinning. “And melt at your feet?”

“I have that effect on women.” Hands on his knees, he craned his neck to inspect the itinerary on her lap. He needed a distraction from the rising lust that rested at the edge of his consciousness. Flashes of heated memories hit him at the oddest, most inopportune moments and he wished he could be like Raina on this, blissfully ignorant. “What’s a Mehndi ceremony?”

“I looked it up on-line, it’s a sort of pre-bridal girl bonding time where the bride and her party get henna tattoos.” She stood and walked into the bathroom.

He leaned back against the wall and watched her retrieve a lipstick tube from her makeup bag. She opened the lid and brought the tip to her mouth, lips parting. He curled his fingers, envying the inanimate object as she glided it over her tempting mouth. She pressed her lips together before closing the tube. “Since I’m not part of the wedding party, I’m hoping I don’t have to attend.”

Who knew putting on makeup could be erotic? “I’d think this was tame compared to Miller’s.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been invited to a single one. Nor have I attended any of my mother’s. She tends to run off to exotic locales to marry her next victim…I mean, husband, and a grown daughter tells truth to the lie that she’s in her early forties.” Sarcasm dripped from her words and it didn’t take a genius to guess why. He kept his opinion to himself. No matter how jacked, up, her relationship with her family was none of his affair.

Better to tuck the past where it belonged and face the future head on.

“I’m happy you’re here, as you can see, this is all a bit overwhelming.” Anaya fluttered her hand towards the fifty plus women who sat in white massage chairs around the makeshift spa.

Leaning back into the soft cushion, Raina couldn’t agree more. After coming downstairs, she’d found out that yes, she was expected to be at the Mehndi ceremony. While members of the wedding party were getting henna tattoos, guests like Raina were treated to mani-pedis. “How many people were invited to the wedding?”

“Over two hundred today, almost five hundred for the wedding.” Anaya plucked at the material of her long floral skirt, a slight flush rising to her cheeks.

Glancing about the room, Raina could see the dollar signs adding up. Both Miller and her mother tended to have elaborate, expensive ceremonies, not that she’d witnessed them first hand. “Well, you look beautiful, I love your dress,” Raina said, admiring the purple floral material of her skirt and short cropped lavender bodice.

“Thank you. It’s a modern take on the traditional Lehenga. Of course, my mother thinks it’s too modern. As if modern is a bad thing.” Her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes for a brief second, shaking her head. “My mother will be sitting next to me, a captive audience. Together, you and I must persuade her to step in and convince my father to take a chance on my new husband. Veer is my best friend. His happiness is my happiness and you can help give him one of his greatest desires, to play football with Howler as his agent.”

Oh boy, no pressure. What could she say to sway Mrs. Patel? Howler has good hygiene and knows how to change a tire. Or something more intimate like his kisses make my knees weak. Or when I picture him naked, I become discombobulated. Probably not the best way to sell his attributes. Well, it depended on the attributes.

Get your mind out of the gutter Raina.

A waitress brought over a tray of assorted glasses of wine. Raina opted for an orange juice in a flute glass. “I don’t think your mother approves of me much.”

“Sometimes I think my mother doesn’t approve of me either. She means well but, um, I did try to warn you the other night but you assured me you could handle anything she threw at you.” Anaya fiddled with the end of her braid, her long hair threaded with orange and pink flowers.

Of course I did. Not true, but she could imagine herself saying something like that. “I don’t recall much from that night, too many shots.”

“We all had too many and I, oh…here she comes. Don’t let her intimidate you,” Anaya said in a rushed whisper.

Were Anaya’s words for Raina or for herself? Mrs. Patel was an intimidating woman both in stature and nature. Tall, with a rather narrow face, she wore heavy makeup and a perpetual frown.

Anaya, don’t slouch,” Mrs. Patel said, taking the seat next to her daughter.

Anaya stiffened at the chastisement and Raina wanted to run screaming in the other direction. She pasted on a smile instead and channeled Howler’s words. Focus on the mundane and keep to safe subjects.

---