The Tycoon Meets His Match by Barbara Benedict Page A

Lisa cowering at his heels, a man wearing a manager pin leaned over the desk to offer his hand. “Mr. Paxton,” he said smoothly. “So nice to have you back with us.”
    With a what-can-you-do shrug for Trae, Rhys leaned forward to clasp the man’s hand. “Chad, you’re looking good.”
    And didn’t Chad know it, preening as if he were the Don Juan of Nevada in his black Armani suit. His jet-black hair was designer styled, too, and he had one of those megawatt smiles you saw in Hollywood, teeth artistically capped and perfectly whitened. A smile, Trae suspected, he generally saved for the ladies.
    Watching the man show off his dental work while Rhys engaged him in small talk, Trae couldn’t help but compare the two. Chad might have a movie-star face, but if you asked her, Rhys was far more attractive.
    As she realized where her thoughts were straying, she reined them back in. Rhys was attractive, no denying that, but the acknowledgment shouldn’t cause a warm glow inside her. All other considerations aside, the man positively loathed her.
    “But enough about me,” Chad was saying in a conciliatory tone. “Lisa tells me we have a problem here. I can’t imagine how this happened.”
    “Yes, well, I’ve been wondering about that myself.”
    Rhys eyed him like a stern parent, while Chad stared at the computer screen, hoping it would provide a much needed answer.
    Or maybe he was hoping Rhys would give up and go away.
    If so, Chad couldn’t know him very well. Even in the short time they’d spent together, Trae recognized the tight jaw, the intensity in those steel-blue eyes. Outwardly, Rhys might seem cool and calm, but every last cell in his body was focused on getting what he wanted. And if she had to pick a winner between them, then sorry, Chad, you don’t stand a chance.
    As if recognizing this as well, Chad spoke in a subdued tone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Paxton, but someone else has your usual suite for the week.”
    “I don’t need a suite. Just find me a room. And one for Ms. Andrelini, too.”
    Chad looked up—perked right up—the instant he realized Rhys was with a woman. “I heard you were getting married.” Though he spoke to Rhys, he focused his attention on Trae. “Is this your fiancée?”
    Trae felt intensely awkward, but Rhys acted as if showing up at a hotel with another female was the most natural thing in the world. “Didn’t I introduce you? I’m sorry. Guess that just shows how beat I am. Chad Ryan, this is Trae Andrelini. Not my fiancée, by the way. She’s a…a business associate.”
    Chad’s smile turned smarmy, making Trae feel like she should be wearing a big, red A on her chest. She could see two choices here. She could make a stand, let Chad know what he could do with his insinuating glances, or she could play along and let him think whatever he wanted. The latter, she knew, had a better chance of getting them rooms for the night, not to mention making her two hundred dollars richer. Accustomed to special treatment, Rhys might not recognize the fact, but he was about to use one of his connections. Once Chad handed the room keys over to him, Trae would win their bet.
    “Nice to meet you, Chad,” she told him with her own megawatt smile. “I so-o-o appreciate your help. I can’t tell you how badly I need a place to sleep.”
    The way Chad looked at her, you’d think they were alone on a desert island. “For you, ma’am, I’ll definitely find something.”
    Next to her, Rhys smiled broadly. At first she thought he was pleased with her efforts, but then she realized he could be hoping to twist this into a personal victory, claiming she’d gotten the rooms—not him, using his connections.
    Chad began punching buttons. “I’m afraid we’re booked solid. All I have to offer is one room. A standard queen, out in the back building.”
    It took several beats before Trae, still preoccupied with who would really win the bet, realized the implications. The two of them, caged