CarinnaAs much time as I spend at The Liege, between working in the casino's Taboo Tequila Bar as a cocktail waitress and visiting the progressive bingo room on Sundays with my grandmother, I'd never had the desire to play cards there until tonight. I can only guess that what propelled me through the door of the twenty four hour poker room and to the last available seat at a table filled with men and reeking of testosterone and cigar smoke was Hank's deception.
The bastard had lied.
We'd agreed the first time we hooked up that we were in it for two things: sex and more sex.
So what the hell was he doing proposing?
I liked Hank, but—Christ—proposing?
If he'd gotten to know me at all the past three months, he'd know I didn't do relationships, documented ones or otherwise. He clearly didn't know me. Not beyond the way I liked my martinis and men—both dirty ...
read full excerpt from What Happens in Vegas... ebook
