He swallowed another sip. “Yes, yes. I’ve seen Las Vegas shows before. I’d just like to come. Perhaps I could take you to dinner afterward?”
“I’m usually beat afterward. Two shows a night and all.”
“You’re not making this easy,” he said under his breath.
“Making what easy?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.” He polished off his bourbon just as the limo pulled up at my building.
I touched the door handle. “Well…thank you again.”
“I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t have to.” Please don’t.
“You’re my date,” he said again.
Right. He had to see me home. Except my home was a tiny apartment with three roommates.
So…best way to keep him from seeing my place?
“I’m not feeling very good,” I said. “Please, just let me go up.”
“If you’re sick, all the more reason to have someone make sure you get up there safely.”
I was fighting a losing battle. I wasn’t embarrassed about my living situation, I was just… This was Reid Wolfe. A freaking billionaire.
The driver opened the car door, and Reid slid out. He offered me his hand.
A slight shiver slid through me as our hands touched.
Odd. I didn’t normally react that way to men. Not since…
Well, since the incident in the Wolfe building.
I stepped out of the cab, and—
“Oh!” One of my heels caught in a grate, and I stumbled.
Reid caught me, and in an instant our bodies were melted together.
I looked up into his blue eyes.
His gaze was so intense, I almost felt I should close my eyes against it. At the same time, I couldn’t look away. As the lights from the strip flickered in the background, his blue eyes outshone even the brightest neon.
“Easy,” he said. “I got you.”
He held onto me as I broke free from the grate. Except—
“Crap. Really?”
“What?” he asked.
Warmth spread over my cheeks. The heel to my shoe had broken off and was still stuck in the grate.
I let out a harried sigh. “Nothing. Just my best pair of shoes.” I pointed.
“I’m sorry. You okay on your feet?”
“Yeah.”
He steadied me, and then he knelt down and pulled my broken stiletto out of the grate. “I know a good cobbler who can fix this.”
“Please. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried.”
Then I gasped as he hoisted me into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t let you stumble up to your apartment.” He laughed. “You’re light as a feather!”
That was a lie. A big one. I was five nine and muscled from dancing. I weighed one fifty-five. He was probably used to scrawny models. I said nothing, though, as he carried me along the walkway up the steps into the building.
“Which floor?” He approached the elevator.
“Fourth, and that elevator hasn’t worked in years.”
“Oh? We’ll see about that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Which way to the stairs?”
I gestured toward a door, and he carried me through. Then up one flight. Two. Three. Four. My God, the man wasn’t even winded. Somehow, he turned the knob on the door and carried me into the hallway.
“Apartment 404,” I said, “on the left.”
A few more steps and then we stood in front of my place.
“Got a key?” he asked.
“Just knock. Mo is home, I think.”
“Mo?”
“Short for Maureen. One of my roommates. She’s in the show, and we’re dark tonight, as you know.”
“Ah. Okay.” Reid knocked.
A few seconds later, Mo opened the door, clad in her Lucy and Linus pajamas. “Zee! What happened?”
“Nothing. Just broke the heel off my shoe.”
Mo smiled. “And who’s this?”
“Reid. Reid Wolfe,” he said as he walked into our tiny place.
“You can put me down now,” I said.
“You sure? You didn’t twist your ankle or anything?”
“I’m fine. Seriously.”
He let me down gently, and I stood, placing weight on both legs. The left ankle was slightly weak, but once I kicked off my other shoe and was level, I felt better. A little sore but nothing I couldn’t live with. I’d danced with worse. A little ice tonight and tomorrow, and I’d be ready for rehearsal at three and showtime at seven.
Reid gathered my shoes. “I’ll have these fixed for you.”
“Please. It’s not necessary. They weren’t expensive.” I’d gotten them secondhand on Posh, but I kept that to myself.
“It’s no problem. They’ll be messengered back to you tomorrow.”
“I’m working tomorrow.”
“Right. About that dinner after the show?”
“Shows are at seven and ten. There’s no time between for dinner, and I said—”
“Then I’ll make reservations for midnight. I’ll see you after the show.”
“Wait, I—”
“Great meeting you,” Reid said to Mo. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then he was gone. Like a flash. Totally forgetting how I’d said I was always beat after two shows…
“Those are some crazy gorgeous eyes,” Mo said, “and the rest of him… Wow.”
I said nothing. What could I say? She was spot on.
“Where’d you find him?”
“Just a…get-together.”
“And you didn’t invite me? Are there any more like him?”
“First of all, we’re not together. I broke my shoe.”
“And he carried you up here.”
“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Lucky girl.” Mo flashed me a smile and then walked to our tiny kitchen.
Funny.
I didn’t feel so lucky.
4
Reid
Oh, yes. This was going to be a challenge.
Any other woman would be in bed with me right about now, screaming my name.
Of course any other woman—at least any other living woman—hadn’t been so viciously victimized by my psycho father.
No problem. I had a few days at my disposal. I’d be working my ass off with the legal team, of course, but I never had trouble finding playtime.
I’d sleep on it.
I texted my assistant, Terrence, quickly and told him I needed tickets to Zee’s ten o’clock show tomorrow, pronto, and then I turned to emails.
I’d gotten through a few when my phone dinged with a text.
Terrence was damned good. He’d been my assistant for a couple years now, and I swore the dude had connections even the Wolfes didn’t have.
Except…the text wasn’t from Terrence.
I hear you’re in Las Vegas, gorgeous. So am I, as it happens. Want to meet for a
