Introducing Romantic Times: Vegas Edition!
The Excelsior Hotel and Casino. Built in Las Vegas in 1960 by mobster Louis “The Lip” LaFica.
For decades the towering hotel has been the subject of incredible stories and rumors that have kept it in the public eye the world around.
Why have so many lovers been mysteriously, magically, magnetically drawn to this magnificent edifice?
And why now have so many bestselling authors at last come together to reveal the adventures of these lovers who have stayed at the glorious Excelsior?
Three Awesome Collections featuring Heather Graham, Lance Taubold, Richard Devin, Doris Parmett, Jennifer St. Giles, Kimberly Cates, Tara Nina, Ed DeAngelis, Rebecca Paisley, Christina Skye, Pamela Morsi, Linda J. Parisi, Jeff DePew, Lori Avocato, Connie Corcoran Wilson, Mathew Kaufman, C.H. Admirand, Tina Wainscott, Crystal Perkins, Amanda McIntyre, Hailey J. Bissell, Tina DeSalvo, Sabrina York, Carole Nelson Douglas and Kathryn Falk Lady of Barrow
NEARLY NAKED by Sabrina York (In Volume 3)
An overworked assistant has the chance to get a little of her own back when she comes upon her haughty boss locked out of his room. In his underwear.
With a deep breath, Tori stepped out into the hall, determined to—
Her thoughts scuttled as her gaze locked on a man standing in the hall.
In his underwear.
It took her a moment to realize who it was, because she’d left her glasses off—on purpose—and, of course, because she’d never seen Mr. Savage in his underwear. The sight made her brain fizzle and pop.
She’d always thought he was an insanely handsome man, but she’d never realized how broad his shoulders were, never witnessed the bulge of his biceps, never dreamed his abs were so ripped. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed, as though he often relaxed, mostly naked, in a hotel hallway.
And he was. Mostly naked. Except for his skivvies—boxers, which she found somewhat fascinating—and socks.
His eyes opened and she was, as always, stunned by that deep and dreamy blue. His lips quirked.
“Well, hello,” he said. There was a thread there in his tone, one she’d never heard before…at least not directed at her. Something pleasant.
And…predatory. In a good way.
She tucked her clutch under her arm, but just to have something to do. Not that he made her skin prickle as he stood there like that, looking far too delicious. “Um…hello.”
He nodded to his door. “I’m locked out.”
“I see that.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Have you told the concierge?”
He blew out a breath. “He’s not there right now.”
“Well, that’s a pity.” She flashed him a smile and turned on her heel. This was her time, after all. “Have a nice night.”
Tori stopped short. She’d never heard a thread of panic in Mr. Savage’s voice. It was…titillating. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Aren’t you going to help me?” Aww. He sounded like a little boy, all pouty like that. Too bad she wasn’t on the clock.
“I can let the front desk know you are out here.”
He put out a lip. “Can’t you at least lend me something to wear while I wait?”
She surveyed his person. “You look fine.” He did.
“A little more than half,” she suggested.
He set his hands on his hips—which made her lungs lock because his pecs rippled—and affected a glower. “Surely you are not going to leave me here like this?”
“I am. And don’t call me Shirley.”
It was an old joke, but he laughed at it. Whether that was a reflection of his humor or his desperation, she wasn’t sure. “You can lend me your robe at the very least,” he said in a pleading tone.
“I doubt my robe would fit you,” she said.
“Still…” He shot her a piteous look, one that was so out of character for him, it made her blink in surprise. “You must have something that would work.”
She did. As his assistant, she had a key to his room, but she had no inclination of letting him off that easily. Seeing him ill at ease was too tempting an opportunity to pass up.
So she turned back to her room and unlocked the door, though beyond anything she wanted to be on that elevator now, heading out for a night of sin, not riffling around in her suitcase for something her annoying boss could wrap around his dangly bits. But again…she could not pass up this chance to torment him. At least a little. She would give him her robe, wish him well and leave him there in the hall.
In her robe.
She hadn’t expected him to follow her inside, but he did. She whirled on him and gasped. He filled the room with his presence. And he stole all the oxygen, the bastard.
She grabbed her robe and she tossed it to him.
He caught it and stared at it as though she’d just given him an aardvark. He held up the pink bundle of silk and lace, something frothy and luxurious and absolutely, utterly and diametrically opposed to the role she played in her working hours. It hardly reflected the prim and proper executive assistant who never made a mistake. A woman he called the Ice Princess or, on occasion, by her proper name, Carstairs. Typically in a bark.
Though when he said it, it was generally with a slight twist of his nose. As though she smelled bad.
She did not.
“What is this?” he asked.
“That, sir, is my robe.”
His lips worked. “I can’t wear this—”
“I think it suits you.”
“What about the one that comes with the room?”
She nearly snorted. “This is a normal room. We don’t get fancy goodies like robes and slippers.”
“I didn’t ask for slippers.”
“Just take it and go. I have plans for tonight.”
“Do you?” He had no right to look so petulant. But at least he did as she bade him, pulling the frilly robe on. It barely fit over his muscular arms and most certainly didn’t close, but it was fun to look at that incredibly manly man dripping with pink lace.
Well, maybe not fun, per se. Because, damn it all anyway, he was still hot.
How was it possible?
He was, without exception, the most aggravating man in existence.
He was hardly the kind of man she wanted, at least in any forever sense. One night might not be bad. In fact, she’d probably fantasized about one night with him. Hard to tell because when his face emerged from the foggy wasteland of her lust, she exiled it.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I am going downstairs to party like a wild woman finally free of her bonds.”
He seemed oblivious to the sarcasm in her tone. “Surely it can’t be that horrendous.”
She leaned closer. “My boss is something of a slave driver.”
He blinked. “That is horrendous. Why do you work for him?”
Tori opened her mouth to respond, but just then, she realized the stunning and exasperating truth of it.
He had no idea who she was.
Did she really look so different with makeup and a pretty dress that he didn’t recognize her? Or was he just that oblivious? Both prospects filled her with a mix of fury and…something else. Something she dared not acknowledge.
The sweet, bitter desire for vengeance though—that she acknowledged.
He didn’t have a clue who she was.
Why not have a little fun?
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Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & snarky to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bj8tKb.
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