Vacation in Vegas Read online

  Vacation in Vegas

  Copyright 2020 Rowena Candlish

  Cover art by Book Covers by Design Ltd

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Smashwords Edition.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Other titles by Rowena Candlish

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Stop right there!” Emma shrieked. “Don’t come any closer!”

  The man who’d just emerged from the hotel bathroom froze. When he saw her, his brown eyes widened in surprise and his chiselled jaw dropped open.

  Emma scrambled off the bed and picked up the nearest item—a bottle of water from the mini bar—and hefted it above her shoulder. Her heart thundered in her chest and she shook her head, trying to clear the jetlag from her exhausted brain. How had he gotten in? Her head swivelled back and forth as she searched for something—anything—to use as a weapon against the intruder. But this wasn’t her bedroom at home, and when she’d arrived at the hotel hours ago she hadn’t exactly been staking out the room for weapons.

  The intruder slowly raised his hands to shoulder level, palms out. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Hurt her! Yikes. She was going to die. He was going to attack her and cut her up into tiny pieces. She shouldn’t have stepped on that plane. Instead of being remembered as a dedicated schoolteacher, she would become a statistic. Just another Australian tourist who’d died overseas. In a Las Vegas hotel room, no less. Emma cringed, picturing the sordid headlines that would make even Amber and Tash wonder if their respectable friend was leading some kind of sleazy double life.

  She should have stayed at home.

  “Stay back!” The shrill tone of her voice startled her. Her chest tightened and she struggled for breath. Was she having a heart attack? Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill her. Maybe her body was taking care of that by itself. The bottle in her hand suddenly weighed like an anchor but she gripped it tighter. She couldn’t show any weakness. If she did, he might lunge at her and her holiday-of-a-lifetime would end with her being carted off to the morgue.

  But she couldn’t escape. He was standing in the narrow hallway leading to the hotel room’s door and blocking Emma’s only exit. Her gaze darted to the telephone beside the bed. No, she couldn’t get to it either, not without putting herself at a distinct disadvantage.

  “How did you get in?” She glared, trying to disguise the breathlessness in her voice.

  His brow furrowed. “With my room key card.”

  “What?” She blinked, just now noticing a charcoal suitcase propped against the wall between the closet and the huge entertainment unit where she was standing. What kind of thief brought his own suitcase? Then the penny dropped. He brought a suitcase so he didn’t look like a thief! All the hotel guests she’d seen on her way in had suitcases when they checked in or out, and this guy wouldn’t look out of place at all as he hauled his loot away.

  It was genius. Pure genius.

  He took a step forward.

  “Get back!” Emma screamed. “I’m warning you!”

  From the corridor outside her room, the murmur of voices became louder. A sudden pounding on the door startled her so badly she dropped the bottle of water. It landed with a soft thud on the thick carpet and rolled away.

  From the hallway, a loud American voice drawled, “are you okay in there?”

  “Help! I’m being robbed!”

  The intruder’s brow furrowed. “Robbed? Are you insane? Look, lady—”

  “Don’t move!” Emma ducked for the bottle. Who was she kidding? Even if she did manage to hit him with it, the most it would do was bounce off his muscular frame. She blinked again, trying to clear the heavy fuzz from her brain. Why was he wearing a towel? Beads of water dripped from his dark hair onto his broad, tanned shoulders, before trickling down his torso. He didn’t have corrugated abs like the guys her sister flaunted online but there was definitely a ripple.

  His broad chest was tanned and his skin gleamed under the light from the bathroom. His hair was tousled like he’d just run the towel over it and decided it could drip-dry. Black eye lashes were spiky from the water.

  Was this guy for real?

  “Did you use my shower?” What kind of robber broke into someone’s hotel room and took a shower?

  “My shower.” He jerked his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom.

  “You’re not a very good thief, are you?” Maybe this was his first heist.

  “Thief?” His gaze chilled, boring into hers. “I’m not—”

  “Ma’am!” A deep, authoritative voice spoke through the door. “This is hotel security. Stand back. I’m coming in.”

  The intruder sighed and closed his eyes.

  Emma frowned at him. He didn’t seem alarmed, well, any more alarmed than having walked out of the bathroom and found her threatening him with a bottle of water. He stood still; he wasn’t even trying to escape. Not that there was another way out of the twelfth-floor room, but still. Why wasn’t he panicking? Or threatening her?

  The door burst opened and a big, burly man wearing the hotel security uniform strode into the room. A similarly dressed woman hovered in the doorway. The guard’s eyes widened as he took in the state of her intruder wearing a towel, a few drops of water, and nothing else.

  “What’s going on here? Ma’am, are you alright?”

  Emma swallowed. Her knees gave out and she leaned against the entertainment unit for support. “I woke up and this man was in my room.”

  Before Emma or her thief could react, the guard had pushed the intruder face first against the wall and pulled one of his arms up across his back. The intruder winced and Emma slapped her hands to her cheeks in shock. She’d seen enough television shows to know things weren’t going to end well for him. Perhaps that would make him think twice before trying to rob another poor, unsuspecting guest.

  “Sir, you’ll accompany me to the duty manager’s office.” The guard spoke to the intruder then glanced at Emma. “Ma’am, we’ll call the police from there. Please wait here until further notice.” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, still hovering in the hallway behind him. “Annie, stay here with her.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” the intruder said. “I checked in two days ago. My receipt and the welcome pack the hotel gave me are on the bedside table.”

  How could that be? Emma had checked in this morning—or wait, was it still today? She had no idea what time it was. She’d crossed so many time-zones in the last twenty-four hours she had no idea how many days had passed since she’d left home. How could she have checked into a room that was already occupied and not even noticed?

  No. He couldn’t be telling the truth. Weren’t all thieves’ liars by nature?

  “Save it for the cops, buddy.” The guard muscled the intruder out of the room.

  Emma sank onto the end of the bed. Her legs shook—she didn’t think she could stand. But at least the intruder was gone. She was safe. Except she didn’t feel safe. Everything was unfamiliar, reminding her she was half a world away from home.

  “Ma’am? Is this yo
ur suitcase?” The female guard gestured to the charcoal suitcase Emma had noticed moments before they had burst into her room.

  “No. Mine is the navy blue one by the bed.” She gestured to where she had left her luggage.

  “Could you please explain everything that happened when you arrived at the hotel?”

  Emma pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “What day is it?”

  The guard, Annie, gave her a small smile as she checked her wristwatch. “It’s 6pm, Monday night.”

  So still the same day Emma had arrived, yet with everything that had happened, it could have been months since she’d stepped off the plane this morning.

  “Um, I arrived at the hotel at—” What time had it been? “—oh, around lunchtime.” She glanced at her watch, remembering that she still hadn’t changed it to local time. “I’ve been travelling for almost twenty-six hours and couldn’t sleep on the plane, so as soon as I got into the room, I put my luggage there—” she pointed to her navy suitcase next to the bed. “And I went straight to sleep. I don’t know how long I was asleep before the sound of the shower woke me and then the intruder came out of the bathroom.” And scared years off her life.

  She hadn’t even checked to see if the room was already occupied, because really, what kind of hotel assigned a room that was already in use? This was a five-star hotel with an exceptional reputation. It never crossed her mind to check that the room she’d been assigned might already have an occupant.

  Annie poked around the back of the suitcase and pulled out a name label. “Lachlan Spencer.” She moved to the opposite side of the bed to where Emma sat and picked up a booklet from the bedside table. Emma recognised the package—she’d been given the same one upon check-in—but hers was sitting with her purse on the chair near the window with the rest of her belongings.

  Annie’s brow furrowed as she read the information. “It looks like your intruder was telling the truth. Wait here,” she added, heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.

  Only a second later, a beep disturbed the silence in the room and the door opened.

  “His key card is programmed to open this door. Stay here, please Ma’am.” Annie strode from the room.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Being frog-marched through a five-star luxury hotel with nothing but a towel slung around his hips was not Lachlan’s idea of a good time. He stared straight ahead, pressed his lips together and tried to ignore the startled gasps from shocked guests as the security guard pushed him forward. Mobile phones pointed in his direction as strangers filmed his humiliation for sport.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled, a long calming breath that didn’t calm him in the slightest.

  He still couldn’t work out what had happened. He’d arrived in Las Vegas two days ago. Yesterday, he’d been wrecked from jet lag but today he had made an effort to try and stay awake and acclimatise to the unfamiliar heat of the Nevada desert. This morning, he’d taken a long walk along the Strip, admiring the Venetian hotel with its canals, all the way down to the New York, New York casino which replicated the New York skyline and the Brooklyn Bridge. He’d eaten lunch and walked as far around the famous fountain as he could before returning to the room and taking a shower. Then, he’d come out to find a hysterical woman in his room, accusing him of being a thief.

  Welcome to Vegas.

  As Lachlan walked the longest mile of his life, he scanned the wide, carpeted corridor for Sarah. If she saw him being escorted by hotel security…

  The thick, plush carpet muffled his footsteps as cool air conditioning wafted over his still-damp body. Lachlan cleared his throat. “Um, sir?”

  The guard replied by tightening his grip on Lachlan’s wrists.

  “My towel is slipping.”

  The guard’s grip loosened for one second and then the towel bit into the skin around Lachlan’s hips.

  He was ushered into the manager’s office where the door was firmly closed behind him. The guard planted himself in front of the closed door as though he suspected Lachlan might try to make a run for it.

  The manager, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a bad comb-over, waited behind his desk.

  “Sir, I’d like you to tell me your version of events.”

  His version of events?

  Sarah had always told Lachlan his temper was the slow boil kind but it stirred now, warming his veins and pounding against his temples. He couldn’t afford to lose it. Sarah wanted a dream wedding in Las Vegas and he’d done everything in his power to make that happen. He couldn’t ruin her perfect day by losing his temper now.

  “I don’t have a version. I only have the truth. My name is Lachlan Spencer. I checked in two days ago. My room key card, identification and suitcase are up in the room.” He slid a glance to the burly guard who’d marched him down here. “I wasn’t offered the opportunity to pick it up.”

  The guard didn’t bat an eyelid.

  The phone on the desk rang and the manager pounced on it. His eyebrows dipped as he listened. “Yes, Annie? Mmm-hmm. Right. Okay.” He replaced the receiver in its cradle, folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Mr Spencer, I apologise for the misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding?” Lachlan had visions of the cops hauling him away to some seedy, overcrowded prison cell where he’d have to fight off super-muscled guys with no teeth called Spanner and Tank. The swirling anger strengthened into a tsunami tidal surge and he clenched his fists as he fought to rein it back. “I’m a guest at this hotel. A paying guest. And your security guard treated me like I’ve done something wrong! Do you know how many people took my photo as I was marched through the hotel? If it gets onto the internet, I could lose my job!”

  The manager cleared his throat and gestured for Lachlan to take a seat.

  He didn’t. Adrenaline flooded his body and he paced back and forth trying to calm himself down. Think of Sarah. Think of the wedding. It’s everything she’s ever wanted.

  “Sir, it appears that there was a mix up at check-in and you and Ms Donovan were allocated the same room.”

  “And this couldn’t have been figured out before I was paraded through the hotel like a criminal?”

  The manager didn’t flinch. “Sir, as a token of our apology, I have taken care of your accommodation costs for the duration of your stay. You will also be upgraded to our best suite at our expense. I sincerely apologise for the misunderstanding and for the embarrassment you have suffered as a result. I have arranged for my assistant to bring some clothes for you to change into before accompanying you back to the room to retrieve your possessions.” He began typing into the computer on his desk.

  Lachlan’s mouth dropped open for the second time that day. An upgrade? As if that could make up for the thought of his half-naked photograph hitting social media and going viral. Or other guests avoiding him in the restaurant or whispering their laughs behind their hands at the pool when they recognised him. As if that could resurrect his good name and reputation.

  Someone tapped on the door and a man poked his head through. “Sir? I have some clothes for the gentleman.”

  “Thank you, Bruce.” The manager took the proffered bag and handed it to Lachlan. “I understand that you are part of a wedding party here at the hotel, sir.”

  Sarah.

  “That’s right.” Lachlan exhaled and some of the anger went with it.

  “Those costs will also be met by the hotel. Sir, I cannot express how truly sorry I am about this predicament. You can rest assured that I will speak to the staff on our check-in desk to ensure this never happens again.”

  They were going to meet the cost of the wedding? It wasn’t necessary. Lachlan had it covered. He’d worked his butt off his entire working life to raise his only child and pay for her wedding. Despite the long hours and the often-gruelling work, he hadn’t complained. It was a father’s duty to provide for his children and Lachlan had worn that duty with honour. He opened his mouth to object. He didn’t need cha
rity. Then the memory of the horrified glances of the guests stuck in his mind and he snapped it shut. Perhaps the hotel was afraid of any bad publicity or worried he might sue.

  Lachlan nodded. “Thank you. I’d just like to get dressed and return to my room. Is that all?”

  “Of course, sir. There’s a bathroom down the corridor to your left that you can change in.”

  Lachlan pulled the door open but turned back at the last minute. “What happened to the woman?”

  “For her privacy, Ms Donovan will be moved to another room. Our security guard has explained the situation to her.”

  “So, she’s not in any trouble?”

  “No, sir.”

  Yet they’d immediately viewed him as the bad guy and been ready to call the cops without one shred of evidence. He shook off his irritation and dressed in the black pants and white shirt and followed Bruce back through the hotel and into the lifts. They rode in silence. When the doors opened, he followed Bruce along another luxuriously decorated corridor.

  “This is the Chairman’s Suite, sir.” Bruce slipped the room key card into the mechanism and opened the door.

  Lachlan clenched his teeth to stop his mouth from falling open once more. The room was exquisite. Even more luxurious than the resort room he’d checked into the first time, and that room’s opulence had impressed him. As a single dad, he wasn’t the kind of guy used to staying in five-star resorts.

  There was a sitting area, a spectacular view of the replica Eiffel Tower across the Strip and holy moley, was that a fireplace?

  “I trust this room will be satisfactory, sir.”

  “This is…” Lachlan swallowed. It was too much. “I’m one person. I don’t need all of this space.”

  “Please, sir. It’s with the hotel’s compliments for your inconvenience. Please let me know when you’re ready to retrieve your things from the other room and I’ll accompany you. If there’s anything further I can assist you with during your stay, don’t hesitate to call me.” He handed Lachlan a business card.