What Happens in Vegas…

Evie knew she was flirting way out of her comfort zone—and probably flirting with disaster at the same time—but she couldn’t seem to dredge up a care.

This was a whole new world, and it was scary and thrilling. If she had an ounce of sense she’d go back to her suite at the Bellagio and forget she’d ever laid eyes—or hands—on this man.

Embarrassed, she could only smile gratefully and hope the darkness would hide the blush on her cheeks.

“Would you like to go somewhere else? Someplace a bit quieter?”

“That sounds good to me.”

Nick stood and offered her his hand. “Then let’s go.”

She hesitated for a millisecond, wondering out of habit what the gossip columns would make of her and Nick, but then she remembered where she was. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. No one here knew or even gave a damn who she was, what she did, or who she did it with.

Then Nick smiled at her, and her knees wobbled.

Viva Las Vegas!

Dear Reader

Some of you may be thinking something sounds vaguely familiar about this book…and you’d be right.

When I finished writing my second book, THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS, there was one character who just wouldn’t let me go: Evie. Evie was such a strong character, and I loved her so much, I actually missed her once the book was done. I chalked that up to author over-investment, and went on to other books and other characters. But I never forgot about her. Once THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS hit the shelves, I started getting e-mails and feedback from readers, and soon it became clear I wasn’t the only one who’d fallen in love with her and wanted to see her safely settled with her own Happily-Ever-After.

But what to do with a character like Evie? She’s rich and beautiful, and she comes from a great family, and I’d just written an entire book setting her up to do well in her life. She seemed to have a pretty clear path ahead. What could she possibly need?

I realised I’d created an irrepressible character and then done my level best to repress her in every way possible. What would happen when Evie couldn’t take it any more and everything she’d been holding back exploded to the surface? I also needed to find her a hero who’d challenge her, shake her up, and appreciate who she was at her core. Nick Rocco fitted the bill nicely—a Mr Totally Wrong who turns out to be Mr Completely Perfect.

Giving Evie her hero and her Happily-Ever-After has been a joy for me, and I thank everyone who let me know how much they wanted her to have her own story. I hope you’re pleased with the result.

All the best

Kimberly

KIMBERLY LANG hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily ever after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

Recent titles by the same author:

BOARDROOM RIVALS, BEDROOM FIREWORKS!

MAGNATE’S MISTRESS…

ACCIDENTALLY PREGNANT!

THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS

THE SECRET MISTRESS ARRANGEMENT

To Shelley Visconte, MA, LPC, LMFT and soon-to-be PhD—I’m so proud of you, and terribly impressed by that alphabet soup behind your name, but the letters that make me the proudest are the ones you’ve had all along: BFF.

THAT WAS AN ACTUAL mirrored disco ball spinning over a lighted dance floor. Hundreds of sweaty bodies crowded the dance floor, moving to a techno dance mix, and the bass line thumped like a heartbeat. This club—The Zoo—had strobe lights, LED-lit jungle vines hanging from the ceiling and zebra-striped furniture. This place took tacky to a whole new level.

And Evie Harrison loved it. In fact, she loved everything about Las Vegas: the neon lights, the over-the-top, let-it-all-hang-out attitude, the sheer unapologetic gaudiness of the entire city.

Las Vegas wasn’t Dallas, that was for sure, and that made Evie love Vegas all the more.

“Wanna dance, gorgeous?”

Evie’s eyes watered at the alcohol exhaled in her face as the offer was made. “No, but thanks. I’m waiting on someone.”

Thankfully, her would-be dance partner was still in the “happy drunk” stage, and he only shrugged as he moved one table over, presumably with the same question.

The truth was, she would like to dance. But hitting the dance floor alone wasn’t an option. Not that she cared who saw her or what they thought—the joy of anonymity was part of what brought her to Vegas in the first place—but a woman dancing alone would bring every drunk guy in the bar immediately into her personal space, and she couldn’t guarantee they’d all be as easily rebuffed as the last one.