Excerpt of Hot Number by V.K. Sykes

Months of stored–up frustration swept through Sadie, unexpected and powerful. "You're not the emperor, Nick Saxon, and I'm not some concubine. So, stop treating me like one."

Nick cursed and slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. "Dammit," he growled, "that's going to look great on camera. Christ, Sadie, you're driving me nuts. Can't you see I'm doing this for your own good?"

"My own good? No, all you care about are your damn surveillance cameras," she shouted, furious that he would blame her for his own lack of control."Well, you can take your cameras straight to hell with you, Big Brother. It's disgusting how you people invade everyone's privacy like it's your God–given right. Honestly, I don't know how you can stand working in a place like this. Do you actually enjoy harassing people?"

The harsh planes of his face, so cold in the fluorescent light of the concrete corridor, made her shiver. "Sadie, if it's so rotten here, why don't you go play somewhere else?" he said. "There are dozens of other casinos in Vegas. Give one of them a try."

"You don't get it, do you?" she snapped. "I'm not going to run away every time I have to face something that's idiotic and unfair. Not anymore."

She drew herself up to her full height, even though that barely brought her up past his chin. "Now, I'm returning to my table, and I'd be grateful if you would leave me alone." Her throat closed with pending tears at the thought of walking away from him, but she couldn't let him intimidate her like this.

"I can't do that, Sadie. You're obviously too naive to realize what could happen if things got out of hand, so it's up to me to protect you." His face was a hard mask, but his big hands gently grasped her naked shoulders, overwhelming her with an infuriating desire to give in to his seductive, masculine strength. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to take the elevator to the fourth floor of the parking garage and wait for me there. I'll be two minutes behind you. Then we'll go to my house and talk this through. For as long as it takes."

A few minutes ago, the prospect of returning to Nick's house would have made her melt with excitement. Now, she felt like running back to her hotel room to have a good, hard cry. How had everything gone so wrong? Again.

She shook herself loose. "Go to hell, Nick."

His jaw dropped. Sadie felt a sliver of satisfaction that she had stuck to her guns, but she knew she had to get out of there fast. If he touched her again, she didn't know what she would do. Despite his outrageous behavior, she wanted to be with him so much it made her chest ache—especially since this could very well be the last time.

She pivoted on her left heel, only to feel the stiletto spike start to slip out from under her. Damn it to hell! What was it with her and high heels?

Flailing her arms, she fought desperately to regain her balance. The next thing she knew, her back was pressed tight against Nick's chest and his muscular arms were wrapped tightly around her, right under her breasts. Her heart pounded as he pulled her against him—and his erection. The feel of it, a big, unyielding column of flesh pushing against her bottom, sent an answering ripple of heat up her spine.

Typical male. Sadie tried to convince herself he wasn't turning her on, but his hot breath prickled her cheek and his bristly stubble rasped against her ear. She couldn't move, and she wasn't sure any more that she wanted to. When he shifted his hands to cup her breasts, she gasped. As she had feared, her body eagerly betrayed her and she couldn't help melting against him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She wriggled in a half–hearted attempt to free herself from his embrace.

"Exactly what you want me to do," he said, his voice between a rumble and a purr as he massaged her suddenly taut and aching nipples through the thin layers of silk and lace that barely covered her.

Pure heat. Pure sex. He was right. It was exactly what she wanted, but she'd die before admitting it. "Why, you big—"

He spun her so she faced him. Before she had a chance to utter another word of protest, he covered her mouth with his own. His hot tongue claimed her, forcing its way past her only slightly reluctant lips. She pushed her hands against his shoulders, struggling to break free. But she might as well have tried to move a mountain. She knew she should tear her lips away from his and stomp on his toes, or kick him in the shins, or even knee him someplace higher up. She couldn't submit, couldn't forget his unbridled arrogance. Couldn't let him just demand and take and order her around like he owned her.

But a dark little voice whispered inside her head. Why not?

She froze. Why not, indeed? This was Vegas and this was the new Sadie, the one who could do whatever the hell she pleased and deal with the consequences later.