Chapter 1

Grey looked out the window of the air craft. In the distant haze he could see the mountains, but there was no denying that the city proper was as flat as the sea. He could see the group of sky rises stand in a cluster in the middle of the arid plains. The Strip. He felt like he was coming home. The seatbelt sign shut off and he was the first to shoot up from his seat and climb into the isle. He threw open the overhead cabinet grabbed his bag, and as soon as the plane was hooked up to the umbilicus, he hurried into the airport delighted to be greeted by a cluster of slots and video poker.

Bill, still on the plane, carefully unloaded the remaining bags in the overhead and handed them to their respective owners. Bill was natural polite and chivalrous but he couldn't dismiss the possibility his sudden desire to assist those around him might have been a futile attempt to avoid the inevitable. The fact was, the heat of Las Vegas did not appeal to him. Actually, nothing in Las Vegas appealed to him.

Bill was here for Chad. They had been best friends since college and when Chad had asked him to be best man, Bill didn't need to think twice. Bill had planned the perfect bachelor trip. He was going to fly Chad and four of his closest friends to Monte Carlo. Sophisticated, timeless, beautiful Monaco. But Chad had left his passport at his cousin's house and when they stopped by yesterday to pick it up, they found out her three-year-old had drawn all over it. Sure, the mustache and sun glasses on the picture of "Uncle" Chad looked great, but the perfect trip Bill had been planning for months suddenly vanished. He'd chartered a private jet, had it stocked with Dom Perignon, and had even arranged for some spectacular day trips. Not only would this have been a fabulous way to pay tribute to his best friend, it sounded like a great way to unwind during one of his increasingly rare breaks from work.

"Bill," Chad called, "Are you day dreaming, buddy? Lines moving."

Bill grabbed his Brunello Cucinelli sports coat and hurried forward, closing the two-feet off gap that had formed during his momentary reflection. Heaven forbid he leave more than an inch separating him from the passenger in front of him while exiting the plane. Bill didn't mean to seem like a snob. He'd flown commercial before. Heck, he'd even flown coach. But was he really the only person that thought going to the gaudy, loud, crowded city of Las Vegas in the middle of summer sounded like torture? But heck, if you are going to enter into the hell that is marriage, why not kick it off by spending a week in hell on Earth?

Bill and Chad stepped through the doorway and were immediately spotted by Grey, who came walking over to them with his arms extended. Grey's enormous smile showed just how pleased he was with himself. As soon as they were in his grasp, he wrapped an arm around each friend, spun them around to see the glory that was Las Vegas, and said, "See? What did I tell you? Amazing right? This trip is going to be awesome! Who wants some stuffy, ancient casino in the middle of France when we have everything we need right here?" Bill had to bite his tongue to keep from explaining Monte Carlo was not actually in France, it bordered the Mediterranean, and the casino was historic, not old. "Besides, what happened in Vegas, stays in Vegas, am I right?" Grey continued. Grey released his two captives and strolled toward the luggage area with that powerful but laid back stride that screamed self confidence and cool. Bill and Chad trailing behind him both looking and feeling like old men by comparison.

"Hey Bill, I'm really sorry about the passport situation. I know how much effort you put into planning that trip. And, maybe, Las Vegas isn't exactly your scene, but try to relax," Chad looked at the way Bill was dressed. Okay, maybe asking a guy who was wearing a button up dress shirt and linen sports coat as travel attire to 'loosen up' was asking a lot.

Bill seeing his friend's expression, and noting the once over thing he just did, said, "Hey, I'm wearing jeans and I left the v-neck sweater is at home. What's up with that look?"

"Nothing, man." Chad punched his friend in the arm. Chad had never fully comprehended his strength and the playful jab was a touch too hard. Bill subconsciously reached up and rubbed the spot. Chad rolled his eyes, but deciding to change the subject said, "Given how quickly he pulled it together, Grey did a pretty decent job."

Bill said nothing. Grey, Chad's younger brother, was Bill's polar opposite — fun loving, carefree, and completely self absorbed. He had skated through life on family money and it was entirely unclear if he ever had even an ounce of ambition in him. Six months ago, his parents had decided that if the bird wasn't going to jump from the nest, it would need to be pushed. Grey was cut off. So he moved in with Chad. Bill had no respect for the guy. Having been born to privilege himself, Bill had been taught early on how to spot a leech. He did everything in his power to avoid them. Grey was going to use anyone around him until they ceased being useful and then he would discard them. Bill had tried to convince Chad to not get too enmeshed, but he hadn't listened. Not having a sibling of his own, Bill figured it must be a sort of sibling bond he just could not comprehend. It wouldn't be the first social convention to allude him. Truth be told, Bill was a touch awkward when it came to interpersonal relationships. But if his money didn't convince those around him to overlook his small social faux pas, his stunning good looks usually did the trick.

"Speaking of Grey, where exactly is he taking us?" Bill asked feeling that the random meandering through the airport had gone on long enough.

"Once we pick up our luggage, I think he said we're heading over to check in at the hotel. Grey booked us rooms at The Venetian."

Bill looked horrified, "Isn't that hotel attached to a casino?"

"I wouldn't say attached. More like they are one and the same. This is Vegas, Bill. Pretty much every hotel includes a casino."

"The Four Season's doesn't," he mumbled.

The group reached the luggage conveyor and waited for their bags to arrive. Grey walked over and leaned into Bill. "Check out the ass on that one," he whispered. "She was sitting in 14B on our plane. I could tell it would be tight. I waited pretty much the entire flight to check it out, but she never got up to go to the restrooms. But now… whooo, totally worth the wait." Bill looked away in disgust causing Grey to needle him further. "Come on. You're not going to take in that fine example of the female form? I always thought you swung the other way." Bill knew how this conversation would go. He might as well appear to be ogling the poor woman or he would need to endure this constant stream of harassment until Grey got bored.

As Bill's eyes trailed down the woman's backside, Grey noticed the conveyor belt began to move. He started to walk away. At just that moment, the woman turned her head slightly to stretch her neck. Her gaze fell right onto Bill's eyes which were now clearly fixated on her butt. He looked up just in time to see her glare.

"Oh, no. You misunderstand," he called out to her. "I wasn't trying to stare. I wouldn't be interested in… that is to say, you're not really my type. I mean I like women, it's just I prefer them a bit more on the slight side…" The woman's glare intensified as Bill's stammering trailed off. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and hurried over to the conveyor belt trying to ignore the woman and the scene he'd been making.

Once he was next to the belt, Grey who was standing about five feet further down, called out to him. "Hey, Bill. That's my bag – the black one. Can you grab it?" Bill reached out and lifted up the suitcase he thought he'd been asked to retrieve, but some ribbon attached to the zipper lay under a heavy box of some sort. Before he had managed to set the luggage down next to him, the contents of the suitcase began spilling out. Panicking, Bill dropped the bag on the ground and started scooping up the displaced contents. As he heard Grey's voice telling him he had selected the wrong bag, his fingers felt the silk and lace of female clothing and the realization of his mistake took shape in his mind. He turned to look behind him and the voluptuous woman Grey had been eyeing now wore an expression of pure hatred on her face. He did not even need to ask. He knew exactly who this bag belonged to.

The crowd backed away from the conveyor belt when they noticed the trail of clothing and other personal effects forming. Grey stayed in place and tried to grab any items that managed to get past Bill. The woman, who most definitely was the owner of the bag, strode purposefully toward Bill and grabbed the pile of clothing he held in his hands. "These belongs to me," she said with a chill in her voice.

"Then I believe these are yours as well," Grey said coming up behind her. He offering her another pile of items. "I managed to catch all of the rest before they disappeared to the 'other side'." The woman snatched the items from Grey eyeing him with suspicion. She knelt down and stuffed all the items she was holding back into her bag and properly zipped it shut.

Turning to Grey she said, "Thank you." It was very clear to Bill that her expression of gratitude toward Grey was in equal measure a message that she was not so pleased with him. Frankly, he found this irritating. It was an honest mistake and he'd done everything he could to correct it. Where did she get off acting so put-out?

"I'm terribly sorry," Bill said, his irritation bleeding through his words. The woman stood back up and looked at him, daring him to continue. "But obviously this was just an accident."

"And I suppose staring at my ass was also just an accident?" she asked arching an eyebrow.

Her comment had drawn some attention from the passengers standing near by. This public humiliation further escalated Bill's ire. "I would not call it a stare. It was just a glance really. I did not see anything that merited a stare."

Grey cut in, "Miss, I apologize for my friend's behavior. He's British." What the hell was that supposed to mean, Bill wondered. Apparently the attempt at humor didn't really sway the hot chick either. Grey tried again, "More importantly, he's a fumbling idiot." That seemed to help a little. She relaxed her face, and she went from wearing a dried up prune look to a straight forward scowl. Grey offered her his luggage cart and loaded her bags onto it. Much to Bill's satisfaction the woman finally departed.

After a moment spent regaining his composure, Bill mumbled, "She seems like a total nightmare." The comment had been said out loud but he'd done so only inadvertently. He heard a scoffing sound behind him, and of course, there stood the demon herself.

"This nightmare left her purse, pervert." The woman said walking away with her purse thrown over her shoulder. Bill watched her until she was out the exit just to make sure she was really and truly home this time. Reluctantly, he had to admit her physique was much nicer upon a second review.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Chad who called out, "Come on guys, I have the bags."