blue eyes softened. “But for guests like Roper, there are rooms and suites. Each has a fireplace. There are a variety of restaurants for meals, room service for privacy and a state-of-the-art gym. And it’s about an hour and a half from the city, which can be a hassle if you need a physical therapist to travel there, but since Vaughn’s football buddies make use of the place, we’ve managed to locate a really good P.T. nearby. I’m telling you, it has everything you need.”
Amy’s mind was reeling with the possibilities. “It sounds as if it does.”
“The best part is the people who can afford it understand the idea of privacy. Nobody will bother Roper at all.” Annabelle spoke with animation in her voice, her hands waving in the air as her excitement grew.
“Will it be booked now? It
Annabelle shook her head. “Yes and no. Yes, it’s booked, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for Roper. The Hot Zone reserves a suite each year for clients or family members who need the break. No one’s using it now that I know of.”
Wow. Roper could escape, and while he was preparing mentally and physically for the season, Amy could help him with anything his family needed here in the city. She liked the idea. A lot.
After jotting down the name of the lodge and its location, Amy glanced up. “Sounds perfect. The only question is whether I can convince Roper to leave without telling his family exactly where he’s going.” And seeing how Cassandra had reacted when he’d ignored a phone call, Amy knew she could be courting disaster. “There’s another issue, too.” A big one, Amy thought.
“What is it? I’m sure we can figure out a solution.”
“Money. Although Roper doesn’t discuss it much, Yank told me to keep his expenses low because his family isn’t only soaking up his time, they’re a drain on his cash flow, as well. He’s hardly broke, but what’s liquid goes fast. And if his rehab doesn’t go as planned, he’ll take a big hit. I don’t know if he’ll agree to spend money on the lodge when he has a gorgeous Manhattan apartment sitting empty.”
“Hmm.” Annabelle’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Well, the Hot Zone has already paid for the season. And he is our client…” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear it with Uncle Yank.”
Annabelle rose and Amy stood to walk her out. “Thanks for stopping by. Talking to you helped me flesh some things out,” Amy said.
Annabelle grinned. “My pleasure. That’s what we do around here, help one another any way we can. Remember that and feel free to knock on my door anytime.”
“I’ll do that,” Amy said.
Annabelle paused. “You work on Roper and let me know when he wants to go.”
Amy nodded. She couldn’t possibly commit to a time frame yet. Coming up with the idea had been the easy part. Convincing Roper to take her up on spending the rest of his off-season at Vaughn’s lodge in Greenlawn would be her greatest challenge.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED quickly and too soon, and Amy had to head home and get ready for her dinner with Roper. He picked her up as planned and drove her in his Porsche to a small restaurant called Leto’s in Little Italy.
He’d taken over an entire restaurant where his friend was the owner and chef, ensuring their privacy. When she’d questioned the expense, he’d assured her his friend owed him a favor. Then he’d gone on to regale her with amusing tales of his baseball exploits and time on the road. She’d engaged him with her crazier stories about the residents at her mother’s retirement community and the fun she’d had trying to keep them out of jail.
Roper at his most charming left Amy without any defenses to resist. Nobody had ever gone to such lengths to impress her before. It wasn’t the fact that he’d arranged to shut down an entire restaurant that struck a chord with her, but the fact that he cared enough about her desire for privacy to bother. She forgot her resolve to keep her distance. During dinner, he covered her hand with his and she let him, enjoying the contact. She promised herself she’d turn the discussion to business and her idea for him to go into seclusion, but instead, she let herself be swept away by his charm, and not once did the subject of work come up.
In short, she allowed the impulsive part of her nature, the part she’d inherited from her mother and her aunt, to overrule her common sense. Amy didn’t like denying herself the things she enjoyed, and though she’d spent years in Florida smothering those yearnings, it had been easy when she was away from people her own age, away from temptation.
And John Roper was a temptation she couldn’t ignore.
Once dinner and desert ended and they were settled back in his car, he lay an arm over the back of her seat. “So, my place or yours?” he asked, staring at her with those sexy, mesmerizing eyes.
She knew what she ought to say, just as she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to end their time together. She’d been alone for too many nights, and he made her feel too good to cut the evening short now.
“My place,” she answered before she could change her mind.
ROPER DIDN’T EXPECT anything to happen between himself and Amy. He didn’t. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear, yet he couldn’t help wanting her, desiring her, needing her.
He’d never clicked with a woman the way he connected with Amy. From the food they had in common to her understanding of his family and the on-the-road lifestyle he lived as a ballplayer, there had never been a lull in their conversation. Normally women’s eyes glazed over when he talked about his time on the field. Locker-room stories only interested them if he mentioned famous names. Not Amy. She tried to get a grip on who his friends were and who he merely tolerated. She talked about her time in Florida with a self-deprecating humor he appreciated.
He already knew he had a good friend in Amy, something he valued. She’d seamlessly stepped into his life and had taken over where Micki had left off. As much as he loved his longtime friend, she now had a husband, a daughter and a life that kept her busy. Roper understood the changes, but he was grateful to have Amy to fill the void. Grateful enough that he didn’t want to screw things up and lose her before their friendship had time to take hold. Yet by the time she let them into her apartment, his desire was becoming hard to control.
He’d talked her into dinner by respecting the fine line she drew between work and pleasure. As much as he desired to kiss her, hold her, feel her body around his, he’d have to let things progress without pushing too hard too fast. Somehow.
“Coffee?” Her soft voice broke into his thoughts.
He nodded. “That would be great.”
“Make yourself at home while I go make us some.” She gestured to the small couch with a sweep of her hand. “I should warn you, though, it won’t be freshly ground,” she said as she disappeared into her kitchen.
“I’ll manage,” he said, laughing.
She peeked out from behind the dividing wall. “Good, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to invite you back.”
He was just glad she wanted him here.
She disappeared back into the small kitchen area.
While waiting for her to finish making their coffee, he glanced around, seeing the personal touches and changes Amy had put on the apartment. Over the plain white wooden slatted blinds, Amy had put up new ruffled curtains that gave the place a womanly feel. She’d added plants on the windowsills and photographs of palm trees, of pink and yellow homes and southern landscapes on the walls. So feminine. So Amy.
“Coffee is served,” she said, returning with two white mugs. “I remembered you ordered yours with a little milk, no sugar at the restaurant, so that’s the way I made it. But if you want to add anything, just let me know.” She placed both mugs on coasters on a glass table in front of the couch.
“Thanks. I’m sure its perfect.”
He sat beside her on the sofa, keenly aware of her sweet scent. “I love the changes you made to the apartment,” he said, reminding himself to take things slow. “Especially the curtains.”
She smiled in appreciation. “They’re homemade.”
“That makes it even nicer.” He took a sip of the too-strong, practically burnt coffee and somehow managed not to wince.
