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Billionaire's Vegas Night
Author: Claire Adams


Chapter One

Luna

 

Inside my head, there was a mess of confusion, jumbled-up dreams, and incoherent chaos. My legs twisted in the tangled sheets as I battled the urge to open my eyes. With the smell of alcohol still permeating from my pores, I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it.

Don’t move. It wouldn’t get any better if I did and as nausea washed over me in a wave, breaking a sweat on my upper lip, I dared not test the theory.

So this is a hangover.

“Luna? It’s about time you were up. It’s almost ten a.m. and…” The voice continued, saying something I missed while trying to understand what my ears were hearing.

For a brief moment, the world made no sense. That was Gabe’s voice. His smooth, naturally sensual tones were unmistakable, especially considering he was my boss. But why would I be hearing his voice? Surely I wasn’t in bed with him and this was all a crazy dream.

Without opening my eyes, I trailed my hand up to my chest to assure myself I was not naked. Thankfully, my clothes were on. I sighed with relief as I forced my eyes to welcome the light and focus on the room around me.

I had partied with him the night before. We’d celebrated and obviously drank quite a bit – p though quite a bit for me wasn’t much at all.

A black lacquered dresser with a large mirror came into focus and I glanced down at myself once again to be certain I’d felt my blouse and not the silk from the red sheets I lay sprawled upon.

Gabe was still talking. “We should eat. It might be best to get something on that stomach of yours.”

Holy crap. I’d spent the night. “I’m afraid to move because I don’t feel so well.” I glanced at him as he stripped off his robe, revealing his bare ass. Why was he naked? I realized his hair was wet. He’d recently showered. I had been out like a light, or like Lottie’s eye, as my father used to say. I wasn’t sure who the heck Lottie was or what happened to her eye, but it must have been terrible.

As Gabe pulled on his pants, I forced myself up and went to the bathroom where the steam still clung to the mirror and the smell of his aftershave lingered. I shut myself inside and leaned back against the door.

Gabe’s voice was muffled on the other side. “Take it slow. We’re in no hurry.”

Thank God for that. I made my way across the room to the granite sink and turned on the faucet. I wiped the steam from the mirror to see if I looked as awful as I felt, and what do you know, I did.

The red veins in my eyes made the blue of my irises stand out, and they were further accentuated by darkened circles and puffiness. My honey-blonde hair was as messy as usual, considering its fine texture always misbehaved during the night.

Misbehaved. I sat and evaluated myself, assuring myself that everything was intact and there were no signs of tenderness in my private regions other than the usual morning beckoning of my bladder. I should be able to tell if anything happened. Being a virgin, I’d know, right? There would be tenderness or pain and blood. I glanced down at myself as my brain went crazy searching for symptoms.

I couldn’t believe I’d ended up in his suite after respectable business hours – and worse, in his bed.

I didn’t understand how it had happened. The last thing I remembered was him offering me a taste of champagne. We had been celebrating the success of his speech and the new client he’d landed because of it.

Working as his assistant, I’d assumed a trip to Vegas would be exciting, but I had no intentions of winding up drunk. It wasn’t my style or a usual habit, and in the two years I’d worked for Gabriel Grant, I hadn’t known him to have such a reputation for alcohol, either. I tried to focus on what else had happened, but the pain in my temples throbbed away any concentration. I couldn’t remember anything.

He probably thinks I’m a fool. I wondered if I still had a job. Would I even still want to work for him? I had to get this sorted out. I finished up and hesitated as I approached the door. How could I face him? With a deep breath to steady myself, I went back out to gather my things. I needed to get the hell out of there.

I glanced around the room for my purse as a wave of pain shot through my temple. The sunlight through the window was too bright for my eyes and I winced, feeling the rolling nausea in my gut. I had to get back to my room downstairs. Being here was a mistake.

I tried to remember what had happened the night before as I joined him in the front room of his suite. He was lounged on the soft black leather of the sofa and sipping a drink.

“There’s coffee, too, if you like. I figured another dose of doom couldn’t hurt.” He lifted his drink and the ice clinked as he swirled it. The sound ricocheted into my temples, and I felt it as much as I heard it.

I poured a cup of coffee, hoping it would cure me, and stood across the room as still as a stone and tried to fight the waves of sickness enough to drink it. “What happened?”

His brows rose and he took a long pull from his drink. Well, that didn’t help me think nothing crazy had happened. “Don’t sweat it, Luna. You were amazing.” He winked. “I haven’t had so much fun in months, and we deserved a good time, you and I. The speech went well, and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It was amazing. Thanks.” I nodded to agree and the world seemed to tilt on its axis again; I lowered myself to sit across from him. I prayed I wouldn’t embarrass myself further by falling on my face before I left, but I didn’t want to rush out like some silly girl running scared. Besides, maybe he’d give me a clue about what had transpired before we ended up passed out in his bed, and perhaps the in between before I woke.

Moments passed in silence, and I sipped at my coffee for something to do. The warmth washed through me, easing me for the moment. I’d started drinking black coffee in college and until that night, it was the harshest thing I’d put in my gut.

Right as I was about to ask what happened, his phone rang and he leaned up to retrieve it from the coffee table where his feet were propped. Jesus, even his bare feet are sexy. I’d always known the man was handsome, but sitting across from me in his slacks with his shirt only closed by a few buttons as his hair continued to dry, he was a god. And there I sat, looking like a boozed-up college girl doing her walk of shame from a frat party.

He stared at the phone as if pondering if he really needed to talk to the person on the other end. Suddenly, I felt as if I’d worn out my welcome. I gathered enough strength to get to the edge of my chair and made it no further. “I’ll leave so you can call them back.”

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