“Do you?” she said, her eyes drifting shut as he pushed her higher and slid another button free, allowing his mouth access to the soft fabric cups of her filmy little bra. “I think that sounds fair.” Then she groaned as he suckled one nipple through the pale pink silk.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her skin as he moved to the other side.

The deep rumble of his voice, the softly spoken confession, made her heart clutch. Maybe she should have figured out that whole fun or foolish thing before she let him do this to her again. Because she most definitely was not feeling remotely casual about Brett Hennessey…and he was making it clear that the feeling was quite mutual.

“Me, too,” she said, figuring it wasn’t right to play chicken when the man was currently making her feel incredibly fabulous.

He ran the tip of his tongue over her and slid her down his body and kissed her, so passionately, so deeply, that when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her up every single step to his room, she simply put her arms around his shoulders and let him.

Instead of the shower, he laid her across his bed and followed her down, rolling them both to their sides, legs intertwined.

“I thought we were exchanging shower favors.”

“I have to get back to the resort in a few hours for another meeting, so I thought perhaps I would get you good and sweaty first so we both could use a good back scrub.”

“We’re limited to each other’s backs?”

“I see it more as a starting-off point.”

“Ah,” she said, then giggled when he tugged her under him and rolled his weight on top of her. She was happy. Deliriously so. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever feeling so lighthearted before. She’d never had this kind of spontaneous connection with anyone, and it felt pretty damn fantastic. Surely, given that they were being so open and honest about where they were in their respective lives, enjoying this-him-wasn’t foolish. She was well aware of the possible painful outcome, but the simple question of would she rather not have spent time with him at all was an easy one to answer. This time, she was putting her happiness first.

“So,” he said, returning to his devastatingly seductive exploration of her collarbone. “Who all has registered for rooms?”

He continued to work his way down, opening buttons as he went, making it rather challenging to keep track of the conversation. She listed a few names, paused to gasp as he nipped the skin below her belly button, then somehow managed to dredge up a few more. It was on the last name that Brett paused and looked up.

“Did you say Uri Maksimov?”

She blinked, realized his wonderful tongue was not going to go back to doing what it was doing along the open line of her pants zipper, and lifted her head up to look at him. “I’m pretty sure I have the name right.”

“That’s his name. When is he arriving, do you remember the date?”

“I’d have to double check to make sure, but I think he’s scheduled to arrive first.”

“Which is when, exactly?”

“Little over two weeks from now.”

Brett dipped his chin and Kirby was pretty sure she heard him swear under his breath. She pushed up on her elbows, then leaned her weight to one side so she could reach out and stroke the side of his face. She urged his gaze back to hers. “What’s up? Do you want me to call him back and tell him I made a mistake and the room is already booked? I’m pretty sure I can fill the opening. At least enough that it won’t matter.”

“No, don’t do that.”

She waited a few seconds, but when he didn’t chime in to explain his obvious distaste for the situation, she nudged. “Wanna tell me why we don’t like Uri Maksimov?”

He did glance up at her then, but his attempt at a smile fell far short of reaching his eyes. “Have I told you how much I like it that you’re on my team?”

“You do a very good job of showing it, yes,” she said, wiggling her hips a little.

He dropped his chin for just a second; then he looked back at her. “I’m sorry, I ruined the mood.”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure if you just breathe on me, we’ll go right back to being there. Or I will.” Her expression sobered when he didn’t immediately come back with a cute remark. She stroked the side of his face and ran her fingers through the hair at his temple. “It’s really not an issue to reverse the booking. We overbooked all the time when I worked the reservation desk at the resort. I’m very good at managing the guests so they don’t feel managed.” She paused and then dryly added, “And you really don’t want to make any jokes about my guest relations skills at this particular moment.”

That got a small chuckle out of him. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“So, I take it that Mr. Maksimov isn’t exactly a welcome guy. Is he a player?”

“He works for the owner of one of the newer casinos. Kind of the liaison between the owner and the promoters. Only been open a couple of years now.”

“Did you give the rights to some part of the event to one of the casinos in Vegas?”

“Yes, but not his.”

“Ah. So, why is he coming? And how will it work, combining the resort holding the event, with a casino…what role exactly does the casino play?”

“The resort here gets the event booking and all that goes with it, including a nice increase in guests. But since we’re in Vermont, I need a team to be able to come in and actually produce the event who knows what they’re doing.”

“So, like a sponsor or something?”

“Not exactly, though we’ll have them, too. This is more like the resort here is the producer and I’m hiring the director. They’ll get billed as event promoter, working in conjunction with the charity organization and the resort here in terms of it being used, more or less, as a satellite location to their resort in Vegas.”

“Right.”

He did smile now. “Clear as mud?”

“Let’s just say I trust that you know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’ve been involved in helping, planning, and overseeing very large events, usually racing oriented, with all kinds of international vendors, where I worked before, so that element isn’t new to me, but I understood the arena. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with what you’re handling. Even the charitable functions we had were all skiing and snowboard related in some manner.”

“It’s probably not much different, just different vendors and sponsors, different kind of sport, but more or less the same end result.”

“I guess you’re right. So what’s the deal with Maksimov? Why would he come out if he’s not part of the deal?”

“I’m sure he’ll have some pretense, but now that I’ve raised my head, no doubt he’s coming out to try and schmooze me into doing one of his upcoming events.”

“Do different hotels hold different poker events?”

“No, it’s usually one resort that gets the license to host the big events. But other hotels definitely have exhibition events, usually tied to a charity or bigger event of some sort, and bring us all in. It’s good exposure and the pros usually kick in. It’s good philanthropy, too, and the celebs usually come out as well. For the promoters, it’s good to get as many headliners locked in as early as possible. Ostensibly it’s for charity or some such, but if regular folks think they’re going to be rubbing elbows with celebrities while playing the five-dollar slots, then they tend to book into whatever hotel is holding the next upcoming widely advertised event.”

“Have you played for this guy before? Is there something wrong with how he does things?”

“Yes, I have, and on the surface, no.”

“But below the surface?”

Brett lifted one shoulder. “There are a lot of rumors, possibly some shady dealings. There is Russian backing with the resort that’s never been entirely on the up and up, at least that’s the word. There’s rumor of other questionable European backing, Pacific Rim, too.”