Sinful Desire (Sinful Nights, #2)(4)

Okay, fine. She supposed it was entirely possible he could be a serial killer or an axe murderer.

But that was highly unlikely.

And it wasn’t as if she’d stupidly invited him to a deserted house at the end of an isolated road. She’d invited him to a ballroom event at Aria that cost a pretty penny for a ticket, where security would be top-notch because the attendee list had the sort of net worth that required it. Not that money was indicative of a man’s character or date-ability, but she’d been able to tell by the cut of his pants and the silk of his tie that he would be able to afford the ticket.

The ticket was a pre-screening. A show of faith in his interest. A sign that he’d jump through the first hoop to see her.

She crossed her fingers that he’d show.

“You’re in a good mood,” John said then grabbed her arm protectively. He tipped his head to the chatter and hum of the men at the desks behind her. “And get in here. Everyone is staring at you. Don’t you own a jacket?”

She laughed with her red-lipsticked mouth wide open, and shook her head. “It’s July. It’s close to a hundred degrees outside. Why on earth would I wear a jacket?”

“Why on earth do you insist on wearing a dress everywhere you go? It doesn’t even have sleeves,” he countered as he tugged her into his office and shut the door behind him.

“Thank heavens for the lack of sleeves.” Sophie raised her chin up high. “And you never know who you might meet. I certainly don’t want to be wearing a sweat suit when I meet the future love of my life.”

“Perish the thought,” he muttered.

Her eyes widened. “I might bump into Mr. Right anywhere.”

He scoffed and waved broadly at the offices and desks behind her. “You better hope you’re not meeting the love of your life here.”

But really, you never knew. Her mother had run into her father at a fruit stand in a farmer’s market on the outskirts of town when she was buying a pineapple from him. They’d known each other in high school when both were involved with other people, and then they’d bumped into each other again twenty years later. They’d locked eyes across the citrus, and the rest was history—thirty-five years of an insanely happy marriage and two kids. Sophie could recall many nights when she’d sneak out of bed as a kid and find them slow dancing in the living room to Ella Fitzgerald as a breeze blew through the gauzy curtains, looking so in love.

A love launched by a pineapple.

“In any case, Captain John Buzzkill Winston,” she said, fishing around in her cherry-red purse to find what she’d come for, “here is the transponder to get into my building.” She pressed the flat white object into his palm. “Just wave it at the gate, and you can get into the garage. I have two spots. Use 121 or 122.”

“Thank you,” he said, tapping the device. “Fucking termites. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you. I’d stay with one of the guys…”

She cut him off. “You’ll do no such thing. Men who live alone live like pigs. Think of it as a vacation at the Ritz. Or really, the Veer,” she said, since Sophie lived in a penthouse condo at that luxurious building on the Strip, and it was as close to the Ritz as one could get. “I’ll be leaving at six-thirty sharp for the benefit. You sure you can’t come?”

“No time for a benefit.”

She pouted. “But you look so cute when you clean up,” she said then squeezed his cheek.

He hissed.

“Oh, you don’t scare me with your hisses. You might scare all those poor little suspects you question, but I know you’re just a hushpuppy underneath.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re killing me.”

“I know. It’s so much fun to embarrass you. I think when I leave, I’m gonna shake my rear a little bit. Would that make you crazy? If all your fellas stared at your little sister?”

He held up a finger warning her not to. “You know they all lust after you. Don’t, Soph. Please.”

Oh, but it was too fun to needle him like this. “Don’t try on my shoes tonight while I’m out. Just promise me that,” she said as she opened the door, then pressed her fingers to her mouth in an “oops” gesture. He huffed, and she walked out, winking at the mustached man at the desk a few feet away. “Hi Gavin. Don’t you work too hard.”

“I promise I won’t, Sophie,” he said, then followed her with his puppy dog eyes. “That is, if you’ll finally go out with me.”

She clasped her hand on her heart. “Oh, Gavin. You know I want to. But John just won’t let his little sister date one of the guys he works with.”

Gavin frowned, as he always did when she playfully said no, since he always asked.

Sophie said hello to another guy she knew. “Hey there, Jason. You look handsome today. Say hello to Evie and the boys from me.”

Jason gave a quick salute. “I will. She said to tell you she loved your peach pie recipe.”

“I am so pleased to hear that. My sweet mother left that one for me. It’s divine,” Sophie said, then blew a big communal kiss off her palm for the whole lot of them. As she pictured the red lips floating through the air, she caught one last look at her brother. He scowled from behind the glass in his office.

She winked then walked out.