Free Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) by Aleah Barley

her mouth with his in one powerful motion. “I do have a fantasy, though. A hot woman on a cool car.”
    She swallowed, hard. “No kissing, Luke. Remember?”
    “Not until you ask.”
    …
    Glory frowned. Luke Morrison was hardheaded, annoying, and arrogant. Resting his hand on her leg. Touching her in the car— Oh, God. The memory made her shudder in a delicious way. The weight of his hand on her body had been dangerous. Tempting. If he’d gone an inch farther she would have pushed him away, but instead he’d teased her, torturing her with his strong hands and soft touches.
    She had to focus on the endgame. Hanky-panky with a gorgeous rich guy was awfully tempting, but she needed to get back to Beaux. And soon, before Tiffanette and her henchmen found them again. She forced herself to breathe. “I need to go home.”
    “Home,” Luke repeated. “If home is so important, why did you leave? Why did you come to Las Vegas?” His gaze narrowed. “Why do you need a million dollars?”
    “I don’t need a million dollars.” Glory sucked in a breath, blood rushing to her cheeks. Last night had been too full with running from gunslingers and singing along to Jefferson Airplane and the Doobie Brothers to confess why she’d needed the money. If she were to be honest, though, she’d avoided the subject. Luke hadn’t asked, and she hadn’t offered.
    Now he was asking.
    “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t win. It’s not my money.”
    “What you need the money for…” His voice had gone guttural, full of unvoiced emotion. And his gaze had gone soft. Tender. Caring. “It’s not just a fancy car or new clothes.”
    “No,” she agreed. The town of Beaux was more important to her than any material possessions. The land she knew like the back of her hand. The people she loved with all her heart.
    She opened her mouth to tell him about Beaux, about the threat to Dandelion House and Black Lake and her community’s way of life, but his gaze slid from hers. She realized his phone was ringing again.
    Luke let out a sharp breath, gave her one of those I’m-so-sorry-but-I-have-to-get-this looks, then pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered it. After listening for moment, he said sharply, “Erick. Sounds like you talked to my mother.”
    Erick. Glory recalled Luke mentioning the name before. The guy worked for him.
    “She can handle the opening of Cleopatra’s Asp,” Luke said, his voice taking on that tone of control he’d had back at the poker game.
    A minute earlier they’d been talking. Making a real connection. Or as much of a connection as two people who’d just met could make. Now he was all business. His eyes hard and calculating.
    Maybe not all business. She noticed his gaze drop slightly, coming to rest on the slight indentation where her breasts met her T-shirt. The air was hot, humid. A single drop of sweat was gathering at the vee where her breasts met.
    “Everything will be fine,” Luke continued, his voice still all distant. “The building permits for the parking structure will come in time.”
    Building permits. Wait—was he a contractor? No, that couldn’t be right… Luke wasn’t the type of man to take orders from anyone. And he was too rich.
    “I know what the neighborhood association says.” Luke kept talking, his voice cold. “They’ve been making the same damn complaints for the last year. ‘A parking structure will obstruct the view.’ ‘It won’t be in keeping with local architecture.’ ‘It will block the path of egress to the park.’ ‘It will change the character of the neighborhood.’” A sharp laugh. “You’ve walked around that neighborhood. It’s got some cute bungalows, a nice coffee shop, even a movie theater. What it doesn’t have is character.”
    Her mouth went dry. Luke sounded just like the man trying to buy Dandelion House. The developer who wanted to steal Black Lake and ruin her hometown. The guy who never even considered their small community and