Hot on His Heels (What Happens in Vegas) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the stop button.
    Here goes nothing.
    When he pressed the button, he half expected an alarm to sound. Instead, when the car shuddered to a stop in between floors, the woman across from him stumbled, straight into his arms.
    He caught her easily, but the unexpected feel of her pressed up against him called every part of him to immediate, almost painful attention.
    Suddenly, talking was the last thing on his mind, and from the way her lips softened as she stared up at him with wide eyes, she wasn’t thinking about talking, either.
    Slowly, still gazing into her eyes, he lowered his lips toward hers.
    …
    Right before the elevator threw her into his arms, Sadie had been thinking, “Oh, no. He expects me to talk to him.” For an instant, she was convinced that the dropping of her stomach was dismay at the thought—then she realized that the sensation was actually physical, not psychosomatic, as she slammed into the beautiful man across from her.
    She couldn’t help but stare at the sculpted magnificence of his face, even as he leaned down toward her.
    He has the most gorgeous bone structure. Classical, really. It reminded her of some of the statues she’d seen while she was in Greece for a semester abroad.
    The abrupt realization that she was staring again, exactly as she had when she landed in his lap in the auditorium, sent her ducking out of his arms and across the elevator.
    “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she stammered, not even sure what she was apologizing for. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I shouldn’t have…”
    Blowing out a breath, he leaned back against the elevator wall. “No problem. Happy to catch falling women any time.” His voice had a sardonic edge to it, almost as if he were mocking himself.
    He hadn’t really been about to kiss her, had he? They didn’t even know each other. For all he knew, she could be married, or a lesbian, or…
    Or wondering what might have happened if I had let him kiss me…
    With a shake of her head, she dispelled the thought.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    He shrugged, turning to examine the control panel. “Not entirely sure.”
    It was his profile that finally caused the pieces to fall into place. She suddenly realized why he looked so familiar to her. “You’re Ian Blaine ,” she said with a gasp, covering her mouth with the fingers of one hand.
    He glanced up, but she didn’t let him respond. She saw the truth on his face. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused for educators in Louisiana? I picketed your campaign in Baton Rouge just last month.”
    Her stomach heaved with horror. She had almost let Ian Blaine kiss her. The bane of every academic’s existence, Blaine was running on a campaign of, among other things, education reform that eliminated the tenure system in Louisiana state colleges, along with imposing a strict accounting of all research funds to make sure they were used for “appropriate” research.
    Even if Sadie hadn’t been pretty sure that her examination of feminism in popular romance novels wouldn’t make the cut for funding under those kinds of rules, she would have opposed the various proposals Blaine was making on the grounds that it violated the basic principles of academic freedom.
    And here she was, trapped in an elevator with him.
    Once again, her cheeks flushed hot, but this time it was with anger, not embarrassment. How dare he even think about trying to kiss her? Glaring at him, she muttered, “‘…the dark folk who live in souls / Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees.’”
    His eyes narrowed in confusion, he said, “Pardon me?”
    Sadie ignored him. “Let me see.” She reached around his tall, muscular form to see the buttons. “Have you tried this?” After she pushed the button to the bar’s floor again, the elevator vibrated once, then continued its downward motion. She leaned back against the wall and tried to ignore Blaine.
    But she had some questions.
    What was a Louisiana state political