Лорет Энн Уайт – Las Vegas: Scandals: Prince Charming for 1 Night (страница 1)
Las Vegas: Scandals
Prince Charming
for 1 Night
Nina Bruhns
Her 24-Hour
Protector
Loreth Anne White
5 Minutes to
Marriage
Carla Cassidy
Table of Contents
NINA BRUHNS credits her Gypsy great-grandfather for her great love of adventure. She has lived and travelled all over the world, including a six-year stint in Sweden. She has been on scientific expeditions from California to Spain to Egypt and Sudan and has two graduate degrees in archaeology (with a speciality in Egyptology). She speaks four languages and writes a mean hieroglyphics!
But Nina’s first love has always been writing. For her, writing is the ultimate adventure. Drawing on her many experiences gives her stories a colourful dimension and allows her to create settings and characters out of the ordinary.
A native of Canada, Nina grew up in California and currently resides in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband and three children. She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at PO Box 2216, Summerville, SC, 29484-2216, USA or by e-mail via her website at www.NinaBruhns.com.
To Dorothy McFalls, Judy Watts and Vicki Sweatman: wonderful friends, insightful critiquers, amazing writers and rockin’ concert buddies!
“Hey, Vera, whatcha think?”
Vera Mancuso—or as the patrons of the Diamond Lounge gentlemen’s club knew her, Vera LaRue—glanced over at her friend Tawnisha and nearly dropped her makeup brush.
“My God, Tawni! Kinky Cat Woman?”
When she looked closer, she
“Too much?” her friend asked.
Vera choked on a laugh. “Uh. Maybe too
But then again, Vera reminded herself, that was the whole idea here, wasn’t it?
Tawni grinned. “Only the important parts.”
“Too hot to handle, girl!”
“Just the reaction I’m going for.” Tawni wiggled her hips in imitation of what she’d be doing onstage in a few minutes. “Rumor is there’s a real hottie out there tonight.”
Vera grinned. “Loaded, too, I hope? Because I could seriously use a few good tips tonight.”
“You and me both.” Tawni crooked her fingers playfully. “Come to mama, baby. Let’s see you boys flash those twenty-dollar bills.”
“Twenties? Damn. That outfit’s gonna bring out
“What I like to hear, girlfriend,” Tawni said. “Those poor slobs don’t stand a chance.” She gave the mirror a final check, winked and strutted out of the dressing room.
Ho-kay, then. Great news for Tawni. Bad news for Vera. If the punters tossed all their cash at the Kinky Cat Woman during the first set, there’d be nothing left for Vera’s Naughty Bride half an hour later. No, not good. Joe’s retirement home payment was due in a few days, and after her vintage Camry finally broke down last week she was still three hundred bucks short, let alone her own expenses for the month.
Unbidden, her eyes suddenly swam at the thought of her once-burly stepfather lying in his antiseptic white room. He’d been so full of life, had so many friends, before. Now…she was his only visitor, and he hadn’t even recognized her two nights ago.
She blew out a breath, fanning her misty eyes.
Besides, tears wouldn’t help—they never did.
And if she got really desperate, she could always borrow the money from Darla, her sister. Well, half sister. Except Darla had taken off, and who knew when she’d be back. Maybe Tawni could help out if worse came to worst.
Not that Vera should be complaining about the costumes. In fact, she was very grateful for them. Tawni was one of the big reasons the punters kept coming back night after night—and telling their friends back home in Des Moines about the great club they’d found in Vegas on their last business trip.
Anyway, Tawni was one of the rough girls. Supposedly, according to Lecherous Lou. And Vera was polished. She snorted. Ha. Tawnisha Adams had graduated from UCLA magna cum laude and was one of the smoothest operators she knew.
Ah, well. It was what it was.
She leaned forward toward the big lighted mirror that covered an entire wall of the dressing room and critically examined her already generous eye makeup. Maybe a bit more mascara.
There was a fine line between virgin and whore. In her act, she was supposed to be a blushing, innocent bride who revealed her inner bad girl on her wedding night. Right. Like a
At least until her Prince Charming came to sweep her away from all of this. Maybe tonight would be the night.
Uh-huh.
She sighed. More mascara it was.
“Vera!”
Her sister burst through the dressing-room door and skidded to a halt against the vanity counter, scattering bottles of nail polish and hair products willy-nilly.
Darla’s expression was wild. “Thank God you’re here!”
“Whoa!” Vera jumped up and steadied her. “Sis, what’s wrong? Where have you