Free The Seduction of Kinley Foster (What Happens in Vegas) by Lisa Wells

Was that Ian? Who was he with? Why did her heart hitch at the sight?
    Charlie grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the casino. “To a store that is owned by a renowned seductress.”
    Will, one of the hotel’ s concierges , who looked an awful lot like a young Leonard Nimoy, approached them. “Ladies, may I get you a taxi?”
    “Please,” Charlie said.
    “How does one become a renowned seductress?” Kinley asked, blinking in the bright sunshine that bounced off the immense beads that draped the outside of the hotel.
    “I’m not at liberty to say,” Charlie said, slipping into the taxi and quickly saying something to the driver.
    Kinley crawled in beside her. “Then I shall have to get you drunk later so the secret comes out.”
    Charlie slipped on her sunglasses. They were the type of sunglasses Hollywood actresses wear when they don’t want to be recognized. “Be careful which Pandora’s box you try to pry open,” she said, with a semi-serious expression.
    The taxi pulled away from the curb.
    “Something tells me you’re more than a sex-toy peddler,” Kinley said, staring out her window. They drove by the casino’s fountain. A big ass carriage, Cinderella-style, rose from the depths. Kinley blinked. “Oh my God. Look at that.”
    “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
    “Spectacular.” Kinley watched all of the sights as they drove slowly by them. Vegas had a lot of unique people walking up and down the Strip. It was like the rich and poor comingled in harmony.
    The store they went to was a boutique about a mile from their hotel. A boutique that offered them champagne served in crystal flutes when they entered the unmarked black door.
    “Charlie, darling, it’s so nice to see you. How may I be of assistance? Are you in need of a new…purchase for Saturday night?”
    Kinley looked from one to the other. She wasn’t sure what it was, but there was definitely an undertone of something going on between the two women. She took a sip of her drink. The bubbles made her sneeze.
    Charlie removed her sunglasses. “This is my friend Kinley.”
    The woman grabbed Kinley’s hands and held her arms out wide and read her T-shirt. “Where did you get this adorable tee?” She had an enchanting English accent. “I’m loving the vibe.”
    Kinley glanced down at her shirt—black with Trust No Bro written in hot pink across the front. And two stick figures. One with a broken heart. The other with a forked tongue. “I sell them at TrustNotTees.com.” They were available in five brilliant colors.
    “I have a girlfriend who dumped her boyfriend after she caught him with his dick in a chick that wasn’t her. She so needs this T-shirt to remind her he’s a jerk—because I know her, give her a week, and she’ll be right back to him, forgiving and trusting him all over again.”
    “I know. Right?” Kinley said.
    Charlie cleared her throat. “We’re on a tight schedule. Kinley needs an outfit that will knock the cum out of this man she has her eyes on.”
    Kinley blushed. Dear Lord, did Charlie really just say that?
    “They’ ll be hooking up at Club Uno tonight, ” Charlie said.
    “ Ooo la la. That’s a swanky club. Way to go, girlfriend.”
    Kinley smiled, feeling like she’d been given the best boyfriend ever nod of approval, from an It Girl. Someone who gave out compliments about as often as a sumo-wrestler went on a diet. She had to admit, she was a tiny bit impressed that Ian had the power to get her in without the need to wait in a line.
    “What size are you?” the sales lady asked.
    Kinley glanced at the ladies over the top of her glass. “A two mostly.”
    “A two?” the sales lady questioned.
    Kinley took a sip. “Sometimes a four. A six feels nice.”
    The sales lady stared at Kinley with a smile—a smile that didn’t grow or falter. Not so much a smile as a comment. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
    “Okay I’m an eight, but a small eight, so don’t bring me any large eights.” Kinley stared into