Sinful Desire (Sinful Nights, #2)(61)
She wasn’t sure what choice she wanted to make, or even if there was a choice anymore. For all she knew, Ryan might have closed the gates on that flicker of possibility she’d sensed last night. Shut it off like a switch. She was willing to bet he was good at that. That the man had a built-in eject button, and could easily parachute himself to a soft landing far away from her.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant that I’m looking forward to meeting your gentleman at the event,” Clyde said with a wink, mentioning the man in limbo in her life. “The man who has captured the attention of Las Vegas’s most eligible bachelorette.”
Oh God. She cringed, absolutely cringed from head to toe, and stem to stern, at that designation. The feminist in her wanted to brandish her claws. The shrewd businesswoman in her affixed her best shiny, happy face. “Oh Clyde, you do shower me with compliments,” she said as they reached the ground floor. She attempted to steer him back to the matter at hand, so she could avoid the issue of her date, since she might not have one anymore. “I’m glad everything is in order for the benefit. Thank you again for stopping by on a Saturday morning to have a look-see.”
He was undeterred. “Sophie, I want to say, if it doesn’t work out with this fellow for whatever reason, you have an open door with me to connect with Taylor.”
In the blink of an eye, her wishes went from blurry to crystal clear.
She didn’t want an open door with Taylor. She wanted Ryan. She wanted the one and only man she’d felt such passion and lust and desire for.
There it was. Her answer. Her choice. This relationship was a math problem. Two plus two equals four, and four was Ryan Sloan.
Now she needed to figure out what to do with the result of her simple addition.
“You are so very sweet. And now I have an appointment I must race to,” she said, and pointed down the hallway.
Once out of earshot and eyeshot, she breathed a huge sigh of relief and headed to the Grand Canal Shops to meet Holden for a cup of coffee and some much-needed retail therapy. A beat of happiness played in her heart as she neared the cafe—she’d always enjoyed Holden’s company, and she needed her best friend even more today. Over lattes and quality time with Kenneth Cole, Coach, and Christian Louboutin, she caught him up to speed on her latest news, showing him Ryan’s photo from his corporate website.
“I hope it’s not over,” she admitted.
“So on a scale of one to ten, how much do you like him?” he asked as she tried on a peep-toe silver stiletto with a strap over the heel.
“One hundred,” she said, peering at the red-soled shoe in the mirror of the boutique. “But I don’t know where we stand.”
He met her reflection in the glass. “Those look amazing. And honestly, it sounds more like you’re in a holding pattern.”
“I detest holding patterns. I hate uncertainty. Not to mention, the whole thing just makes me feel stupid.”
“So tell him as much. Tell him what you need. That he needs to be open with you,” he said, as she slipped off the shoes and gestured to the counter so she could pay for them.
“And I feel stupid, too, because Clyde is breathing down my neck. It’s like everyone is using me. I’m sorry if that sounds dramatic, but Clyde clearly has his sights set on me because he thinks I’ll never try to touch his money. And then I have to wonder if Ryan had his own agenda.”
“Did it seem like that?”
As the saleswoman rang her up, Sophie let the reel of her time with Ryan play before her eyes. Date by date. Night by night. Email by email. Moment after moment of intoxicating, inescapable pleasure. Ryan had always seemed focused on her. Only her. Her pleasure, never anything else.
She floated back to the diner and his heady words.
If you were mine, I’d never let you want for anything. I’d take care of you, and all your needs. All the time. Anytime. Whatever you needed, I’d give you.
A current of longing swirled inside her. Of missing. Of wanting.
“No,” she admitted, taking the bag from the employee. “I was his only agenda.”
“Then,” he said, as he patted her shoulder, “it seems you might want to let him know you’re falling for him. Especially since I think he’s here right now.”
“What?”
He gestured to the entryway of the Louboutin store. “I’m assuming the insanely handsome man in the University of Michigan T-shirt, holding a shopping bag and looking just like the guy in the photo you just showed me, is here to see you?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She was too stunned to say much more, but the softness in his voice, and the vulnerable look in his beautiful, dark blue eyes, settled her nerves.
Ryan turned to Holden standing next to her. “You must be Holden. I’ve heard a lot about you. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Ryan.”
Holden took it. “Likewise. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Sophie tells me you’re a talented piano player, and that I’ll get to hear you next week at the benefit,” he continued, and Sophie’s jaw nearly crashed to the floor. She’d never expected possessive, jealous, dominant Ryan to talk so easily to her ex. Sexuality aside, most men wouldn’t do so well talking to a prior lover, let alone a woman’s former husband.