Werewolf in Las Vegas Read Online Free PDF

you?”
    His poker face disappeared. “No, damn it! I was just trying to explain how a guy of thirty could easily influence a young woman of—”
    â€œHave you seen the research on maturation, Dalton? Females mature
much
faster than males. I’d say a twenty-two-year-old female is operating about even with a thirty-year-old male, if not slightly ahead of him.”
    Abandoning his stoic expression completely, he leaned across the desk and pointed a finger at her. “Screw your research. I know my sister, and she’s not all that worldly. She may be a semester away from graduating magna cum laude, but she doesn’t know squat about—”
    â€œMagna cum laude?” Giselle realized she might have to take this potential matchup more seriously. Bryce loved brainy females. “From where?” She hoped it was some no-name college with a total enrollment of five hundred.
    â€œYale. But that’s beside the point.”
    â€œActually, it’s not beside the point at all.” Giselle became more worried by the second. “She must be very goal-oriented.”
    â€œTrust me, she is. Her goal used to be graduating with honors from Yale so she could make our father proud. Now that he’s gone, she doesn’t want to go back. She says that was his dream for her, and even attending classes there now would be too sad and painful.”
    â€œPoor kid.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought, too! I was ready to cut her some slack. I figured if she gave it a few months, she could manage to go back for the fall semester. She was so close! But she said no, she wasn’t going back at all.”
    â€œShe could change her mind.”
    He shook his head. “I doubt it.”
    Giselle made a calculated guess. “You’re thwarting her new goal, aren’t you? And that’s why she’s disappeared.”
    He looked as if he’d been Tasered. “My God.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he stared at a point beyond her left shoulder. “That’s it.” Slowly his gaze returned to lock with hers. “Thank you.”
    She shrugged. “Good guess.”
    â€œBrilliant guess. You don’t even know her, and you’ve hit upon the most important part of her personality. What are you, a shrink?”
    â€œAccountant.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “No kidding? You don’t look like—”
    â€œSpare me. Accountants aren’t all skinny nerds. And they’re definitely not all male.” Hacking her way through this guy’s jungle of stereotypes would take some effort, but he had resources and it was clear his sister could pose a real threat to the future serenity of the Landry pack.
    She was also in desperate need of more information about said sister. “Out of curiosity, what are you denying Cynthia that she wants so desperately?”
    He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, some background. Here’s this kid—smart as a whip, straight-A student, and my dad doted on her.” He picked up a pen and laced it through his fingers. “She got into Yale, and he busted his buttons over that. Told all his cronies she’d be president someday.” He worked the pen through his fingers as he talked.
    Giselle wondered if he even knew he was toying with the pen, but he had amazing dexterity as he wove it endlessly through his fingers. She found that sexy as all get-out. She brought her attention back to the subject, his brainiac sister.
    â€œTurns out she doesn’t want to be president. Or a molecular biologist, or a corporate lawyer, or an astrophysicist.” He tossed the pen on the desk. “She wants to be a showgirl. She wants me to give her a job dancing at the Silver Crescent.”
    â€œAnd she’s no good.” Giselle pictured a bookworm who secretly longed to be onstage wearing glamorous outfits but had no natural rhythm or coordination. If that were the case, then Cynthia