“Maggie Chase?”

“That’s me,” she said, adjusting her purse higher on her shoulder. The big tote didn’t quite match her outfit, but the sexy clutch she preferred wouldn’t have held a change of clothes and her toothbrush.

“Follow me, please. Madame Evangeline has arranged for your caller to meet you in the lounge.”

Lounge. Which meant they were going to the super-fancy part of the Castillo. She loved how decadent she felt within the expensive, gorgeous walls of the hotel. Rare art and beautiful fabrics surrounded her at every corner. As an interior decorator, she recognized them for the treasures they were. Could they have held back on the gold plating? Sure, but it suited the hotel and Vegas lifestyle.

As they meandered through the crowd, Maggie wondered why she wasn’t more nervous. One-night stands and paid escorts never entered her normal strategies for getting laid. Not that she expected the guy waiting for her to be some gigolo, but still, hooking up with a stranger to get string-free sex should have felt at least a little wrong. And maybe it did. Maybe that little bit of naughty provided the catalyst making her so hot.

Her escort stopped short, and Maggie nearly tripped. She grabbed the booth end before she fell on her ass and embarrassed herself, while forcing her heels to stop before she impaled the poor man. The stilettos were tall and wickedly sharp. They were plain wicked, but that didn’t mean she wanted to draw blood with them.

“Mr. Peterson, allow me to introduce Ms. Chase. If either of you have a need, wave from here. I’ll be watching.”

With those instructions, the liaison walked away. Despite the dim light, Maggie could see the man across from her. A stranger. A hot stranger wearing a gray shirt too nice to be called casual but far from fussy. He stood and offered a hand, showing a slim-to-the-point-of-scrawny frame, but when he leaned forward, his face, lean like the rest of him, made her breath catch.