Page 3 of Hitched to My Enemy
"That's not necessary—"
"Humor me." He released my hand, and I immediately missed the warmth of his touch, which was problematic on multiple levels. "I have excellent taste, and I'd hate for you to feel underdressed among Vegas royalty."
After leaving the Jade Petal, I drove home on autopilot, my mind replaying every moment of our encounter. The way he'd looked at me, the careful dance of words that said everything and nothing, the undeniable fact that the years hadn't diminished whatever this was between us.
***
Back in my Summerlin condo two hours later, I stared at the garment bag hanging on my closet door like it might explode. The hotel concierge had delivered it personally, along with coordinating shoes and what I suspected was a jewelry case. I hadn't opened any of them yet.
Instead, I'd been pacing my minimalist living room for the past twenty minutes, my phone clutched in my hand as I debated calling Giselle. My younger sister was the only person who could talk sense into me when I was spiraling, which I definitely was.
Finally, I hit her number.
"Please tell me you're calling with juicy details about your mysterious Vegas assignment," Giselle answered without preamble, because my sister had never met a conversation she couldn't dive into headfirst.
"I might have made a mistake," I said, collapsing onto my leather couch.
"Ooh, this sounds promising. What kind of mistake? Professional? Personal? Fashion-related? Please tell me it involves that gorgeous man who's been all over the society pages."
"I agreed to attend a casino gala tonight. With the owner."
"The one you shut down? The one who's been rebuilding his empire specifically to show you up?"
Trust Giselle to cut straight to the heart of it. "The same."
"Harlow, honey, that's not a mistake. That's called having a life. When's the last time you went to anything that didn't involve a conference room and PowerPoint presentations about regulatory compliance?"
"This isn't about having a life, Gis. This is about maintaining boundaries with someone who..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence without admitting things I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"Someone who what? Makes your pulse race? Makes you forget you're supposed to be the Ice Queen of Gaming Regulation?"
"I am not the Ice Queen of—"
"Harlow. You married your job, and frankly, it's been a boring marriage. Go to the party. Wear whatever devastatingly gorgeous dress he sent you and have some fun for once. You've spent years building your reputation as the most ethical investigator in Nevada. One night won't change that."
After she hung up, I finally opened the garment bag with hands that trembled slightly. The dress inside made me gasp audibly. Champagne gold silk that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light, cut in a style that would showcase my curves while remaining tasteful enough for any boardroom. The designer label made my eyes widen—this represented serious investment.
In the coordinating boxes, I found strappy heels in the same champagne shade, along with a clutch purse and jewelry that looked suspiciously like real diamonds. Everything fit perfectly, as if he'd somehow memorized my measurements during our brief encounters years ago.
I held the dress up to myself and stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman looking back at me was a stranger—glamorous, mysterious, dangerous. Everything I'd trained myself not to be in pursuit of credibility.
My phone rang again. Camilla's name flashing on the screen like a warning.
"Clarke."
"I hear Hardwick invited you to his little party tonight," she said without preamble, because apparently nothing happened in Vegas without the commission knowing about it within hours.
"Word travels fast."
"Everything travels fast in Vegas. I want you to go."
I blinked in surprise. "You do?"
"There are rumors swirling about the Jade Petal's financing. Political pressure to fast-track the approval process. Sources suggesting certain commissioners might have conflicts of interest." Her voice carried that edge I'd learned to associate with commission politics at their ugliest. "If there's dirt to be found, tonight might be your best chance to find it."
"And if there isn't any dirt?"
"Then you do your job and write an honest report. But be careful, Harlow. Hardwick is charming, and charming men are dangerous to women in our position. Don't let him manipulate you the way he manipulates everyone else."
