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Vegas, Baby




  It only took one kiss…

  Working two jobs to achieve her dream of moving to New York, Vegas showgirl Sunny Johnson needs to save every penny. So when CEO Cole Benton makes a bottom-line decision to close the revue show she dances in, she has no choice but to confront him for her sake and for the futures of all her friends on the chorus line.

  Cole expects to inherit the reins to his family’s chain of luxurious hotels and casinos. That is until his grandmother drops a bomb—get married, or say farewell to his inheritance! And the worst part? His grandmother has already decided on the lucky bride—Sunny.

  So before his true motives can be revealed, one spontaneous kiss and sizzling-hot chemistry take over as Sunny and Cole fall into each other’s arms. But is it now too late to tell Sunny the truth? Could Cole’s high-stakes gamble cost him everything, including the woman he is beginning to adore?

  “We’re supposed to be making our debut as a couple tonight at the Business Man of the Year dinner.”

  “And that has what to do with you holding me against this wall?” she asked, looking very uncomfortable, but also still…something else.

  “We’re supposed to be in the throes of a new romance, madly in love. Now, I don’t usually do PDA. Not really my thing, but in this case, if I were really capable of falling hard for somebody in a matter of days, I think I’d be okay with it. Don’t you?”

  He could distinctly see a bead of sweat on her forehead now. “Are you hot, Sunny? Already? We haven’t even begun the class. Maybe we should turn on the air-conditioning,” he offered, not even trying to hide the fake note in his concerned suggestion.

  “No, I’m fine, I—” She broke off, obviously flustered. “I just don’t understand what tonight has to do with right now. What you’re doing right now?”

  “We’ve got fifteen minutes. Maybe we should practice.”

  Before she could ask “Practice what?” he answered the presumed question, pressing his lips to hers for what was supposed to be a teasing kiss, a little light punishment for giving him a hard time about his car and work schedule.

  Except it wasn’t teasing or little or light. In fact, when his lips met hers, he felt something zap through him, and he immediately became consumed, moving his mouth over hers, wanting more. He pressed his whole body into her as he kissed her, suddenly not caring if she knew how badly she affected him. Suddenly wanting her to know just how much he desired her, just how much he wanted in.

  THEODORA TAYLOR

  lives, reviews and writes in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. When not reading, reviewing or writing, she enjoys spending time with her wonderful husband and attending dinner parties thrown by others.

  Vegas, Baby

  Theodora Taylor

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Dear Reader,

  I loved the remake of Ocean’s Eleven and found the main antagonist, Terry Benedict, fascinating. I’m a writer who tends to be more interested in the villains than the heroes while watching movies, so he sent my mind into full spin. I hope you enjoy this tale about an ambitious, uptight businessman who gets thrown for a love loop by a sassy showgirl. Sunny and Cole are a smoking-hot couple, and their story sizzles like the Vegas summer.

  My very best,

  Theodora

  To my lovely one-click readers.

  I hope you love this story.

  Contents

  Cover

  Back Cover Text

  Introduction

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Dear Reader

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  “You want me to do what ?”

  Cole Benton didn’t shout, but he didn’t have to. His voice carried enough icicles to let the woman sitting in his black guest chair know he was beyond not pleased. It was the same tone he used with employees both on and below the executive floor when they were dangerously close to getting fired.

  But his grandmother, Nora Benton, or as she liked to refer to herself, “the best damn showgirl this town has ever seen,” just crossed her long legs. She liked to show them off—to the point that she ordered her Chanel suits with a higher hemline than was normally deemed appropriate for her age set.

  “You heard me, luv,” she answered, her Irish accent reinforcing her words with steely determination. “I’m telling you, it’s for your own good.”

  “And I’m telling you, you need an MRI if you think I’m going to marry some showgirl...”

  “Sunny’s not just some showgirl,” Nora said, patting her mane of wavy hair, which thanks to her twice monthly hair appointments, was still as glossy and vibrant red as it had been when she and his grandfather met. “She’s the granddaughter of Berta Johnson, my best friend in the entire world.”

  Cole gave her a skeptical look. “Your best friend whom I’ve never met.”

  “Only because she died quite a few years ago, when you were still in business school. If you’d have come to any of my last few Christmas events, you would have seen the show Sunny choreographs for herself and a few of the other Benton Girls every year. Then I would have been able to properly introduce you to Berta’s lovely granddaughter.”

  Cole tented his hands on his desk. “Her lovely granddaughter, the showgirl.”

  “What’s wrong with showgirls? Your grandda—God rest his soul—always said meeting me was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  A shimmer of affection for the original Coleridge Benton, a stodgy businessman who’d somehow ended up married to an Irish showgirl from The Benton Hotel’s revue show, made a brief pass through Cole. If not for his grandfather, he wouldn’t be where he was today, the Chief Executive Officer of The Benton Group, one of the youngest CEOs of any hotel chain in Vegas history. But irritation at his grandmother soon overtook Cole’s fond memory of his grandfather. Naming her chairman of The Benton Group’s board before his death, so that Cole was forced to take her seriously, despite the fact that she had nothing to do with the company’s day to day operations, was one of the worst business decisions his grandfather had ever made.

  “With all due respect to my grandfather, he was the head of one hotel when he met you. One. I oversee a nationwide collection of The Benton Group’s hotel and casino interests.”

  Nora’s gave him a withering look. “I see, you think being a billionaire makes you too good for a showgirl then? That’s what you’re trying to tell the best damn showgirl this town has ever seen?”

  “No, growing The Benton Group into a force to be reckoned with means I don’t have time to date this girl you’re trying to set me up with or for this inane meeting—which by the way is not remotely urgent. You told my assistant this was important.”

  “It is important, luv,” his grandmother insisted. “I’m not getting any younger, and I’m ready for grandchildren. And with that playboy brother of yours flitting about all over Europe...”


  “You should just be grateful your other grandson is running the company so well and leave it at that,” he finished for her.

  “Well, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands,” Nora said. “All you do is work, work, work.” She let out an exasperated sound, as though his work was a character flaw, as opposed to what kept her in luxury cruises and Botox treatments. “Quite frankly you need to get laid well and regularly, dearie. It would do you a world of good, just like it did your grandda. It’s time for you to have some fun—but only for three months, then you can settle down and give me some grandchildren.”

  “You want me to marry a girl I’ve never even met after three months of dating?” Cole asked, both his face and tone incredulous.

  “Three months is generous,” Nora informed him. “It only took your grandda three weeks to propose to me!”

  Cole stared at his grandmother for a few long, disbelieving seconds before saying, “I have a two o’clock, so I’m calling this ‘urgent meeting’ to an end. Thanks for stopping by, Nora. Let’s never do this again.”

  Nora let out a dramatic sigh. “I was afraid you might say that. I swear, the worst decision I ever made was letting your grandda take you under his wing after you got kicked out of boarding school. You’ve got too much of him in you and your brother has too much of me.”

  Cole had already turned back to his computer and started typing in notes for his two o’clock with The Benton Group’s L.A. office. He was fully prepared to ignore Nora out of his office.

  But then his grandmother said, “...and that’s why I’ll be handing over my shares in the company to your brother. I plan to make my announcement at the end of summer board meeting.”

  Cole’s head shot up from the computer screen. His brother, Max, was the “brand ambassador” for The Benton Group. This basically meant he received a steady paycheck, which he spent on partying all over Europe. Which in turn meant his picture was regularly spread across the tabloids. It put The Benton Group in a negative light and the only reason Cole hadn’t cut him off was because he had enough shares in the company to make it difficult if he decided to sell them to an outside interest. However, if Nora gave her shares to Max, then...

  “That would give Max controlling interest in The Benton Group. Why would you do that?” he asked his grandmother.

  Nora shrugged prettily. “Well, unlike you, luv, he came to my Christmas charity dinner and he gave Sunny and her girls some very nice compliments on their show.”

  “I bet,” Cole said with a derisive snort. His brother wasn’t the sort to miss an opportunity to flirt with scantily clad showgirls.

  Nora went on, anyway. “He and I had a nice long talk the last time he was in town, and he explained to me that he’d be more than happy to stay on in Vegas and work at The Benton Group—if you weren’t in charge.”

  Cole turned all the way around to face his grandmother. “That’s never going to happen. I’m the one who built this company into a nationwide outfit. I’ll be in charge of it until the day I die.”

  “Yes, well...” Nora played with the short hemline of her skirt. “I do miss Max, and he’s promised that if I give him my shares, he’ll not only marry Sunny, but give me as many grandchildren as I want.”

  Cole found himself once again staring at his grandmother in disbelief. “Do you have any idea of how crazy that sounds, Nora?”

  Nora threw a dramatic hand across her forehead. “I do! I know it sounds crazy, luv. And of course, I’d rather Sunny marry you. You’re more the settling down type—unlike Max. But I’m just so desperate for grandchildren!”

  Cole would never let a business rival see him blink, and he kept his face blank as he informed Nora, “You have grandchildren. Max and I are your grandchildren.”

  “Hardly. Max, came out of the womb, a full blown flirt, and your derelict parents forced me to raise you, and—well, you know how difficult that was. I want a real baby, one who coos and giggles and calls me ‘Gran’—not ‘Nora,’ like I’m one of his employees.”

  If Cole had a sense of humor, he might have found his grandmother’s antics funny, but he didn’t, especially when it came to money. “Nora, selling a controlling interest in the company I’ve been spent my entire career growing is not the way to get what you want.”

  “Don’t you try to lecture me, Cole Benton. I’m not one of your underlings,” his grandmother responded. “Now you either do as I say and propose to Sunny Johnson by the end of summer, or I’m selling my shares to Max!”

  Nora punctuated her threat with a slap of her hand on his desk. But then her face softened. “I know what I’m threatening sounds crazy and a bit harsh, Cole. But this...” She gestured around his highrise office. “All this work and no play. It’s not good for you, luv. It’s made you hard. Too hard. You need something other than this business in your life.”

  What Nora didn’t seem to understand was that this business was his life, the only thing that made his heart beat faster, the only thing that had ever given him a true return on his investment.

  And he wouldn’t abide anyone—even his own grandmother—threatening to compromise all the work he’d put into it.

  “I’ve got to prepare for my two o’clock now. I’ll take your request under advisement.”

  Nora jutted her chin into the air. “Max is coming in for the Businessman of the Year dinner on Sunday. Should I let him know he should stick around this time, and prepare to take his place as chairman of our board?”

  Cole resumed typing. His grandmother may have had his grandfather wrapped around her thin finger, but Cole refused to take her bait.

  And Nora seemed to understand that she was being dismissed.

  She went to the door and put her hand on its chrome latch. “Understand, I’m not doing to this to hurt you or The Benton Group. I’m doing this because I care about you more than I care about this company.”

  Whatever it takes for her to sleep at night, Cole thought with bitter resentment. But he refused to let Nora see that she’d actually upset him. He did as he always did, focused on his work.

  After Nora left, Cole finished putting in his notes for his two o’clock meeting. But as soon as he hit the last keystroke, he picked up the phone to talk to his assistant, Agnes.

  “Yes, Mr. Benton,” Agnes said when he buzzed her office line.

  “Put in a call to Taylor Stratherford.”

  “Junior or Senior, sir?” she asked. Taylor Stratherford Jr. was Cole’s personal lawyer, just as Stratherford Sr. had served as his grandfather’s personal lawyer. However, it was Taylor Sr., who also now served as the Non-Executive Director of The Benton Group’s board.

  “Senior. Set up an in-person at his office as soon as possible. Actually I want to set up one-on-ones with every member of the board except my grandmother and brother.”

  “Right away, Mr. Benton,” Agnes answered. She was too professional to outright ask why he was asking for these meetings, but he could hear the curiosity in her voice when she asked, “Anything else?”

  Cole thought about it. “Yes, get the manager of The Benton Girls Revue on the line, and inform him of the following...”

  Chapter 2

  Sunny came rushing into the backstage area of The Nora Benton Theater, still dressed in the yoga pants and tank top she’d worn to bed. And still chilled by what had happened less than thirty minutes ago back at her apartment.

  She’d been so exhausted when she got home from her cocktail waitress shift on The Benton’s casino floor that she’d fallen asleep on the couch while eating a meal replacement bar. She lived alone—or so she thought. That morning, she’d discovered she had a roommate, when she woke up to the sound of the alarm on her phone going off and the feel of something pulling on her hand. She’d opened her eyes to find a rat staring back at her, its beady black eyes filled with determination
as its mouth tugged on the bar in her hand.

  Sunny let him have it, letting the bar go with a scream. And an hour later, she could still see the ridges on its long tail as it ran away with its treasure. She’d never be able to unsee it, and she had no idea how she was going to manage to get to sleep when she returned to her apartment after today’s rehearsal, knowing that it was still there, probably lurking somewhere inside one of her walls.

  With a shudder, Sunny brought her thoughts back to her present situation. How to get to the backstage dressing room without being seen by Rick.

  It was exactly eleven a.m., which was their call time for their monthly rehearsal in full makeup and costumes. But Rick Rizzo was old school. Being exactly on time was the equivalent of being late in his book. He wanted all his dancers backstage at least fifteen minutes early, and if he saw her skulking through the shadows, she’d likely hear about it.

  She also didn’t want him to see the dark circles under her eyes. She’d never quite gotten around to telling the Benton Girls manager that she’d taken a second job as a cocktail waitress in the main casino. Technically, it was none of his business, but Rick was half stage dad, half control freak, and the show paid pretty well by Vegas standards with a salary, 401(K) and vacation benefits. If he saw how tired she looked without tons of concealer slathered underneath her eyes, he’d badger her until she confessed that she was planning to leave the show in late August in order to attend graduate school at New York Arts University.

  They’d given her a generous scholarship, but it wasn’t enough to cover any of the extras, like food and books, or rent, which was no joke. The school was located in Manhattan and didn’t provide housing for grad students, but even a place in the outer boroughs of New York would set her back. So her plan was to work two jobs and save as much money as she could over the next three months.

  But there was no need to tell Rick any of that yet. She knew how he’d respond: What! You’re leaving us? I gave you your first job. Bobby and I had you over for Thanksgiving Dinner every year after your grandma died, and this is how you repay me?