But he still had challenges ahead of him—the first, getting through this ride without triggering a downward spiral. But he’d worry about handling the adrenaline rush when it hit, or more correctly, if what his father claimed was true, Trent’s problems would start when the adrenaline ebbed and the lack of excitement drove him in search of another kick.
“You look anxious,” Paige taunted him. “Afraid?”
He blanked his expression. “Just wondering if I’m going to have to hold your hand or your hair.”
Her exaggerated eye roll made his lips twitch. “I won’t be the one getting sick.”
The line inched forward. She grasped his elbow, held him back and motioned for three couples to go ahead of them. With a sinking stomach he recognized the tactic. Paige was waiting for the next ride and positioning them to be first in line for the train. In the past, he’d done the same thing countless times.
Sure enough when the gate opened, she tugged on his sleeve, dragging him toward the front car—the one guaranteed to give the wildest ride—and leaped into the two-seater. Clamping his jaw against what lay ahead, he climbed in beside her and slid into the seat. The compartment forced him into hot contact with Paige from his shoulders to his knees. His heart rate accelerated, and a familiar rush surged through his veins even before the overhead restraints descended and locked into place, preventing his escape.
He used to get this kind of buzz from flying, but he hadn’t taken the yoke of an aircraft in years—not since the day his father had confessed he’d gambled away hundreds of thousands of dollars because games of chance gave him the same high as flying. His father had claimed he couldn’t stand the dead feeling when he wasn’t flying in the air or in the casinos.
His father was an adrenaline junky. Trent had known plenty of those and he’d been one. The MOs might be hot planes, fast cars or motorcycles, but one thing remained constant—most junkies ended up dead, broken or bankrupt. The scariest part was, when his father had rattled on about the excitement flying and gambling gave him, Trent had understood completely. Flying had once fueled his soul in exactly the same way.
The Hightowers couldn’t afford another addict in the family, and given Trent was like his father in countless other ways, he couldn’t risk discovering he had the same lack of willpower when the adrenaline ebbed. He didn’t want to cost the family Hightower Aviation the way his father almost had.
Paige shifted in the narrow seat, branding her thighs and upper arms against his. Another jolt rocked his system. He attributed the powerful pumping of his blood solely to the anticipation of the ride, but then Paige wiggled again and he experienced a fresh power surge. Could his energy overload have something to do with Paige’s proximity?
She turned her head and gave him a wide grin. “Hope you can hold your cookies.”
The car rocketed out of the station before he could reply. A quick ninety-degree turn slammed Paige against him. Her body heat penetrated the layers of their clothing, burning him clear to his bones. Arousal hit him just as hard. The only other times he’d had a woman resting this heavily on him had involved sex.
The car rose then plunged and barreled into a series of loops and corkscrews. Each change in direction shifted the momentum, alternating between flattening Paige against him then him against her. He tried to hold himself off her, but it proved impossible. The contact was definitely like sex—the hot and sweaty, rolling-across-the-mattress, who’s-on-top-now variety.
The coaster stuttered to a halt and the overhead restraints lifted. Surprised, Trent glanced around the loading station and sucked in a much-needed breath.
Over? The ride was over?
He’d missed it. He’d missed the whole damn thing.
Because of Paige?
He’d ridden a lot of roller coasters in his life. Next to flying, coasters had always been his favorite pastime. But he’d never been so focused of the passenger beside him that he’d failed to notice the thrill of the ride.
Until now.
Rocked by the realization, he turned to his seatmate. Paige’s brown eyes sparkled like mica. Her pink cheeks, the windswept tangle of her hair and her enormous grin made him ache to lean down and kiss her.
What in the hell kind of crazy reaction is that?
Fighting to keep from following through, he drew in a ragged breath and her lemony scent filled his nostrils.
“Let’s ride again. This time in the last car,” she gushed in a breathless voice and shot to her feet. Unbalanced by his visceral reaction to a woman he planned to deceive and dump, he remained immobile.
“C’mon, Trent.” She reached into the car, grabbed his hand and pulled as if determined to drag his lagging butt along. Her slender fingers laced with his, sending another shock through him. He rose, and for the first time, let himself be led by a woman.
He recognized trouble when he crash landed in it. His plan was in serious jeopardy. The vicious cycle of adrenaline addiction wasn’t all he had to worry about. Avoiding sleeping with his brother’s former lover had jumped to the top of his priority list.
Amusement parks had always excited Paige, but before tonight they had never aroused her.
Okay, so the park didn’t get all the credit.
She stopped on the brightly lit sidewalk outside the Adventure Dome and turned to the most likely culprit—Trent. “I’m impressed. You stayed until they closed.”
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His short, blond hair stood in wind-whipped spikes and a five o’clock shadow darkened his angular jaw. He looked too sexy for words in his jeans, black polo and a tobacco-brown leather bomber jacket, which he’d left unzipped despite the cool night air blowing Paige’s hair across her face.
He lifted a hand toward the errant lock, but lowered his arm before making contact. Her skin tingled as if he’d followed through.
“I’m glad you finally loosened up. I thought I was going to have to pour liquor down your throat to get you to enjoy the rides.” It had taken at least an hour’s worth of riding for the stiffness to leech from his muscles.
He looked down at her from his superior height. “So you said.”
She’d hoped tonight’s exposure would cure or at least make her understand this overwhelming new attraction she felt for him, but it hadn’t. Instead she was more confused than ever and wondered if maybe, just maybe her psyche had recognized a kindred spirit the night when she’d let him charm her out of the Blue Grotto Bar and up to his suite.
But if that were the case, then why had that night been such a dismal, embarrassing failure? Had the problem been his? Or hers?
Pedestrians bustled past them on the sidewalk, buffeting her closer to Trent like waves pushing her to shore until scant inches separated them. Her synapses crackled at his nearness. During their rides tonight she hadn’t been able to distinguish which lost breaths, belly whoops and skipped heartbeats had resulted from the coaster’s drops, turns and twists, and which had been a reaction to Trent’s big, solid body jarring her at irregular intervals.
One thing was certain; being hurled against him bore no resemblance whatsoever to similar contact with her father or David, who even after being her boyfriend throughout high school and college, had only tolerated thrill rides for her sake. David had never loved them the way she did.
The realization startled her enough to make her break eye contact. If she’d missed that, what other facets of their relationship had she ignored?
She checked her watch and did a double take. “Midnight! I can’t believe I stayed out this late. I need to go. I have to work tomorrow.”
“I enjoyed this.” Surprise laced Trent’s gruff voice. Their gazes locked and held and her lungs locked up.
She swallowed and gulped air. “Me, too.”
Say good-night and leave.
But she couldn’t. Blame her Southern upbringing or call her crazy, but for some inexplicable reason she wasn’t ready to end what had easily been her most fun evening since arriving in Vegas. “Do you need a ride back to the hotel?”
“I don’t want to take you out of your way. I’ll hail a cab.”
Wise up, Paige. Go. You wanted one date and closure, remember?
She ignored the voice of reason. “I drive right past the Lagoon on my way home.”
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked back on his heels, his narrowed eyes searching her face. “Then thanks. I’ll accept your offer.”
He kept pace beside her to the parking lot. A big black Cadillac shot out from the curb. Trent grabbed her arm and hauled her against his lean, hard frame. Even after hours of similar contact on the rides, his strength and the combined scents of his cologne and his leather jacket filled her nose and hit her with a death drop of want like she’d never before experienced. Not even nak*d. With him.
What was up with that?
She tipped her head back and stared into his eyes. Inertia gripped her muscles and electricity charged the air as they stood frozen in place. It took several pulse-pounding seconds to shake off his mesmerizing effect, but she did, then hustled to her vehicle.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course.” But her keys slipped from her trembling fingers as she tried to unlock her Jeep. She hoped he attributed her clumsiness to the Caddy’s near miss.
Trent bent, scooped up her key ring then opened her door for her. She climbed in and tried to unravel her puzzling reaction to him while he rounded the hood and joined her. The confines of her vehicle seemed even more cramped and intimate than the closer quarters of the rides they’d shared, ratcheting up her awareness of him several notches.
He dangled her keys from his fingers, and she snatched them from him, being careful to avoid touching him, and shoved them into the ignition. She put the car into motion. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t its usual stop-and-roll awful, or she’d probably plow into a bumper. Her concentration seemed shot to pieces. Aware of his every breath and shift in the seat, she kept glancing at him instead of the road. The short distance to the hotel passed all too quickly. She pulled up to the front doors and stopped, ready to drop him off and bolt home to the safety of her apartment.
Trent twisted in his seat. His gaze searched her face and the silence stretched between them. Would he kiss her good-night?
Did she want him to?
Yes.
Shocked, she leaned against her door. She must have lost her mind. How could she be attracted to a man who’d already rejected her in the most basic and humiliating way? Was she so desperate for a date that she’d risk rejection twice?
Apparently so.
“Join me for dinner.”
She didn’t realize she’d been staring at his mouth until his lips moved. His invitation made her stomach dive. Torn between the intelligence of leaving and the mistake of lingering, she levered her gaze upward and shook her head. “It’s late. I should go.”
“We need to plan our next outing—unless you’ve had all you can handle.”
His eyes gleamed with a challenge she couldn’t miss even in the shadowy interior of her car. Her competitive hackles rose despite the alarms sounding in her subconscious. “Our next outing?”