The reel slowed. One ruby red slipper. Then another. Sophie’s shoulders tensed in anticipation and hope. “Please let it be another slipper,” she murmured. She sighed when a witch’s broom busted their chances. “Damn,” she muttered.

“I don’t mind losing. We can just play here all evening because I like the way you feel sitting on me.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me. But we don’t want to miss the High Roller.”

He glanced at his watch. “We have time.”

They played a few more rounds, losing every one. But it didn’t matter, because his arms were wrapped around her waist, and he held her close in his lap, a delicious start to her second rendezvous with this man who was not as much of a mystery as he’d been the first night, but who was now even more enticing. Perhaps it was knowing his name, or maybe it was the email exchange earlier. It might even be the naughty compliments he never ceased raining down on her. Any and all of the above drew her in.

“How’s your dog?” she asked as the sound of a tornado grew louder from the machine. Dorothy’s home was churning in the cyclone during this spin.

He chuckled. “You remembered I have a dog.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. You had to walk him. He’s a demanding Border Collie. Is he totally adorable?”

“Ha. I suppose. Mostly I just think of him as badass.”

“Got any pictures?”

He shook his head. “No, but if you’re a good girl, I’ll send you one.”

“All the more reason to be good,” she quipped. “What’s his name?”

“Johnny Cash,” he said, with the swagger it called for.

“That is a cool name.”

“He is a cool dog. Loyal. Smart. Devoted. And a great listener.”

“Sounds perfect. How’d you pick it?”

“My dad’s favorite musician.”

“Is your dad in town?”

Ryan shook his head. Sophie looked back at him. A kind of darkness had descended over him. She processed quickly that he hadn’t used a verb when talking about his father. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is he gone?”

Ryan nodded.

She sighed wistfully. “Mine, too. Both my parents died two years ago.”

He squeezed her arm affectionately. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Actually, they were both older. Not terribly old, but late seventies. They met in their late thirties and had us in their early forties. They died within three months of each other. They were ridiculously in love even till the end.”

“I can’t imagine,” he said, his voice hollow. The empty sound made her want to ask why he couldn’t imagine loving someone until the end of your life. But it was too soon to press. Besides, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know his answer. Better not to go there. She danced away from this topic, returning to more comfortable second date terrain as she pointed at the pair of flying monkeys that had landed in the last spin, alongside a shiny red apple.

“So, Ryan Sloan, former army captain, now head of Sloan Protection Resources…Flying monkeys.” She tapped the screen. “Your verdict—are they fearsome or comical?”

He laughed, and in that sound the tension deflated. “Absolutely fucking terrifying. When I was a kid I ran from the room every time the flying monkeys came on.” Then he squeezed the side of her rear lightly. “We should head to the High Roller.”

She stood up from her seat on his lap and held up a finger. “Give me two minutes.”

With her purple leather purse on her shoulder, she popped into the ladies room at the other end of the slots, shimmied out of her jeans, and slid into a short, flowy pink skirt that hit her just above the knees and offered a perfect amount of lift if she twirled. She folded her jeans in half, then tightly rolled them and stuffed them into a side compartment of her purse.

She returned to Ryan.

And twirled once.

His jaw dropped when he saw her change-up.

“See? I’m not all naughty. I can be a good listener,” she said with a flirty tilt of her head, as she jutted out her hip and ran her hands along the outside of the pink skirt with the white polka dots.

“You’re the perfect amount of naughty,” he said, his voice smoky as he drank her in from head to toe, from her black patent leather heels with the strap across her instep, to the bare legs, to the revealing blouse. “You’re going to be rewarded so well for doing as you were told.”

Chapter Nine

With a hand on her lower back, he guided her past the lines at the High Roller Ferris Wheel and straight to the head of the VIP queue. One of the highest Ferris wheels in the world, the ride circled to more than five hundred feet in the air and offered a majestic view of the skyline and bright neon lights of the city.

The attendant opened the door to one of the space agey, glass-encased pods. Ryan and Sophie weren’t alone in the spacious capsule with the panoramic view, but it wasn’t crowded either. They staked a claim at one end of the oval, and Ryan leaned his hip against the railing, facing his date.

His stunning, gorgeous, sexy, naughty, and sweet date.

Soon, the observation wheel began to move, slowly rising higher as each capsule filled with passengers on the first revolution. “Hope you didn’t mind too much that I sent you my bio. That, coupled with my dog’s name, means you know everything there is to know about me,” he joked.

“Absolutely. I can’t think of a single other thing that I’d be curious about.”

He wiped a hand across his brow as if to say whew. “Okay, so we’re done then with the résumé basics and we can move on to favorite TV shows and movies, then?”

She laughed, a bright and pretty sound that seemed to match her personality and her bold sense of style. Not that he was well versed in women’s fashion, but the way this woman dressed caught his eye and sparked his imagination. She had a va-va-voom look to her that was his kryptonite. She was all gorgeous, sexy, voluptuous woman, and knew how to show off her assets.

He couldn’t look away from her if he tried.

“Actually, I think someone’s favorite show can be quite telling. I wouldn’t mind knowing yours,” she said, then did that utterly sexy thing she’d done at the slot machine, where she ran her hand along his arm. Okay, it wasn’t like some signature move or anything. But the combination of her long nails, the glint in her blue eyes, along with the wild flirtatiousness in her tone, turned him on something fierce.

As she’d done from the second he met her.

“Top Gear,” he answered easily.

“You like fast cars.”

He nodded. “I do. And it’s just a kick-ass show.”

“I bet you’d like to drive my Aston Martin someday,” she said, brushing her fingertips over his bicep now.

He nodded eagerly. “I’d love to get behind the wheel of that baby. What about you?”

“My favorite show?”

He shrugged happily. This was a simple enough topic. “Sure. Tell me.”

“Mad Men for the fashion,” she said, counting off one finger. “Dancing competition shows because they’re gorgeous to watch. And Orange is the New Black because it reminds me to always be a good girl.”

He forced a laugh at the last one and decided not to touch it, even though he was tempted to make a dirty comment about being a good girl. But he couldn’t chance any conversation drifting into this territory—the behind bars territory. He returned to the middle choice. “My sister is a choreographer. She’s done some work on a reality dance show.”

Sophie arched an eyebrow. “Ooh! Which one?”

“Dance All Night,” he said, naming the show that Shannon had worked on.

Her eyes lit up. “Get out of here!” She slugged his arm.

He ran his hand over the spot where she’d hit him, pretending it hurt. “Ouch.”

“I’ll kiss it and make it better,” she said, planting a quick kiss on his arm. Damn, that felt good, even through the fabric of his shirt. She raised her face. “I absolutely adore Dance All Night. Tell her that her work is amazing. Please, please, please tell her that. There’s a one-night reunion show coming up, and I already have it marked on my calendar to make sure I don’t schedule anything else that night.”