Page 1 of Sin City Lights

Chapter 1

Eve

Full-moon Saturdays were the craziest.

Black leather tote slung on her shoulder, Eve Layton crossed the opulent hotel lobby, head high, shoulders back, stilettos clicking on the polished marble floors. A slightly nervous smile curved her lips.

Her ears buzzed with the noise of many people talking. The reception area teemed with tourists of all shapes, sizes, and income levels, from the suit-clad Patek Philippe–wearing high rollers at the special welcome desk to the moms and dads with kids and suitcases in tow, disheveled in sweats and jeans.

She checked her watch.

Darn. She was late for her new client.

Traffic had been a nightmare on the strip, even more so than usual, and her limo had been stuck behind a fender bender.

Her steps quickening, she approached the security guard posted at the elevators, narrowly avoiding colliding with an angry Asian man. He seemed oblivious to everyone around him, dragging his aluminum carry-on behind him as he obnoxiously tried to cut the line.

“Hey, Greg.” She smiled at the security guard, shifting her heavy bag in her other hand.

“Eve! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He gave her a knowing grin and looked her up and down.“Hot date?”

She laughed.“Always.”

“Lucky bastard,” he muttered and waved her by.

His friendly face and greeting somewhat calmed her frazzled nerves. She liked Greg. The guy was not her type and much too young, but he never gave up trying. Not only did her occupation fail to put him off, it seemed to intrigue him.

She put aside all other thoughts and hurried to the elevator bank.Pulling out her compact, she checked her reflection, watching the numbers tick down.

She had meticulously prepared for tonight: hair down in lush, loose waves; a low-backed white silk dress that hit above the knee and hugged her curves in all the right places; red lipstick that precisely matched the bottoms of her matte cream Louboutin pumps. White lace La Perla lingerie with garters clipped to nude seamed stockings, Delina perfume, no jewelry.

All exactly as requested by the client.

The elevator doors opened, and a throng of people spilled out, leaving the cabin empty. Eve stepped inside and pressed the top-floor button, the round toe of her pump tapping on the polished wood floor.

Compared to past requests, what he’d demanded was not unusual and, to be honest, very tame. She could write quite a book on what men who came to play in Vegas, many sans wives, would ask for. When she’d signed up with Eleet Escort Services and viewed their ten-page questionnaire asking what she would and would not do, she’d balked at some of the items, ranging from the ridiculous to the downright vile.

No to adult baby, thank you very much. Girl-on-girl sex? Um, no. No to being dominated but yes to dominating although it was not her scene of choice. When, after much consideration, Eve had decided to temporarily enter this line of work to earn money for college, she’d promised herself that she would do nothing she didn’t enjoy, at least to some extent. Before she knew it, temporarily became three years, and now she was one of the agency’s most requested and highest-paid escorts.

Being on top had its perks. She made the rules now, and they allowed it because she really was that good. Her niche was entertaining high-level businessmen who wanted pleasant conversation and an elegant, educated companion on their arm at events and dinners. Occasionally, if they paid the top-level fees, she offered an intimate rendezvous in the privacy of their hotel suite, providing everything their wives would not, from merely listening to them talk to giving them the hottest, most erotic experience of their lives, exactly as they had fantasized.

What was unusual this time was the lack of information about theclient. She trusted the agency to perform thorough background checks and vet the men, as she had never had a single incident or problem. They usually provided an info packet for her, so detailed that, by the time she was ready for the encounter, she could make the client feel as if she’d known him for years. It was about not only providing a good time but making a connection. The more she knew, the better she could connect.

This time? The page was almost blank. All they’d provided was his age (thirty), his profession (business owner—how was that for vague?), and his marital status: widowed. Likes and dislikes left blank.

She didn’t like going in clueless. When Eve had questioned Kitty, her liaison, she had received a shrug.

“He paid for the Platinum Package, plus a crazy huge bonus, but wanted discretion,” was all she’d said.

“How crazy are we talking?”

Kitty’s smile was sly.“Batshit.”

Oh.

Eve had felt her brows go up. The Platinum Package required a fully health-tested client, and that meant no barriers of any sort.

This was a first.

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