Once they were far from the noise and closer to the front door, they could hear each other without yelling.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am now.”
They stopped at the door, and she set her bag down to put on her jacket.
Dante stepped forward to help her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No. For everything. This was not supposed to happen.”
“Best-laid plans . . .” Dante looked to the bouncer as soon as they were at the door. “We need a taxi.”
“The only one getting laid tonight is Salena.”
“I’m going to kill her,” he said, half joking.
“Leave her alone. She’s fine. I’m tracking her.”
“She left you stranded,” he pointed out.
“I would have been fine if Carmen had left her credit card. I’m not sure how that even happened.”
The taxi pulled up, and Dante opened the door for her.
“I’ll be giving everyone hell in the morning.”
Chloe stopped mid-scoot. “No, you won’t. This is between you and me. If you say anything it will ruin the weekend for Brooke, and this is in no way her fault.”
“It isn’t. It’s Carmen and Salena’s.”
Chloe moved over, giving him room in the back seat.
“The Venetian,” he told the driver.
“No. I’m not done.”
“What?”
“Buy me a drink.”
Dante looked at her like she was crazy. “Didn’t I just buy all of them?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll pay you back for those. I’m way too amped up after sitting there without any money all that time. The Bellagio,” she said.
The driver looked through the rearview mirror, caught Dante’s eyes.
He nodded and the man left the strip club parking lot.
Chloe lowered her head on the back seat. “That sucked.”
“I can’t believe you left without any money.”
“I had money. Lap dances require cash.”
Dante looked at her. “And how many of those did you need tonight?”
She smiled, rolled her head to the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Yeah, actually . . . he would.
“How was your night?”
It was his turn to settle into his seat. “It was okay.”
“Ah-huh . . . two clubs? The first one wasn’t enough?”
So she had kept tabs. “I could say the same for you girls.”
“The first one was a big show. This place was a party. Brooke had a great time.”
“We made sure Luca had a good time.”
“Lap dances?”
Dante pictured what they’d done during the night, kept his lips sealed. “What happens in Vegas . . .”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
The driver dropped them off in front of the fountain at the Bellagio, where music filled the air and the water danced.
Dante stood beside Chloe and watched her more than the show.
Her eyes lit up with excitement as the music heightened and the water reached for the star-filled night. Even at the end of the night, she was the most beautiful woman in the room. Or the sidewalk, as the case was in Vegas.
When she shivered, he took the liberty of placing his arm over her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”
“I am.”
He pulled her toward the entrance of the hotel, amazed that she managed with the high heels. “I’m not sure how you ladies manage in those shoes.”
Chloe started laughing as they walked into the casino. “When did I become a lady in your eyes?”
That was a minefield question. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
She rolled her eyes and headed straight to the closest bar. “You barely said hello to me when I walked into the restaurant tonight. Hugged everyone but me.”
Oh, boy. “I have a good reason for that.”
She stopped midstep, looked over her shoulder.
Silence stretched between them.
“What are you drinking?” He chickened out.
She shook her head and focused on the room in front of them. Seeing an open table, she pointed. “Vodka martini, two olives. I need the salt.”
He took the reprieve and headed to the bar.
There, he looked at his phone, saw that Gio had checked in.
Not seeing any harm in telling the truth, he sent his friend a quick message saying he was chaperoning Chloe since they both had more energy than the rest of them. Then, because he wasn’t going to share her with any of them, he put his phone away, with no intention of looking at it again for the rest of the night.
It took him twenty minutes to get them their drinks.
By the time he made his way to her, a man was sitting beside Chloe, leaning on the table and looking entirely too comfortable.
“Hello?” Dante made himself known.
Chloe had a perfect smile as she lifted a hand Dante’s way. “See. I told you I was with someone.”
Mr. Poacher turned his eyes on Dante and sighed in disappointment. He lifted both hands in the air as he stood. “I had to try,” he said to both of them. With a nod, he said to Dante directly, “You’re a lucky man.” And he walked away.
Dante placed their drinks down and then shrugged out of his coat. “Who was your new friend?”
“Cash.”
He hesitated. “You’re kidding.”
Chloe shook her head and laughed. “That’s what he told me.”
Looking at her sitting there, her coat on the back of her chair, the killer dress that fit her like a glove and left any heterosexual man’s mouth watering . . . how could Dante blame the man.
“Are you disappointed that he left?”
She reached for her drink, leaned forward. “That depends.”
Something playful passed over her eyes. Or maybe that was the previous drinks in the evening.
“Depends on?”
She lifted the glass to her lips, sipped. “If you’re going to treat me like a baby sister all night or if you’re going to own up to some of the bombshells you’ve been dropping since you arrived.”
Dante’s eyes took a slow dance down her frame, just about as slow as they could, to the impossible shoes she wore on her feet, back up her crossed legs that were exposed to midthigh . . . all the parts in the middle he wanted to experience in every way possible.
Yeah, his days of seeing Chloe D’Angelo as a baby sister were long gone. Had been for a while and were blasted out of the water long before she showed up in the impossible dress she wore now.
His eyes met hers. “You will always be Gio’s younger sister. And that respect will forever be given.”
Her brow furrowed.
Dante let a corner of his mouth lift. “But you’re not my sister.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He lifted his glass. “I don’t know, Chloe. Shit. Look at you.”
She looked down at herself, lifted her dress away from her skin enough so she managed a personal peep show. “I remember when you teased me the first time I wore a bra.”
Laughing, he took a drink, looked her over again. “I can’t tease you now, you’re not wearing one.”