CHAPTER THREE

Sophie strolled into her walk-in closet in her penthouse apartment to confirm that everything was in order for tonight. Her outfit hung perfectly with every item she’d need – the black evening dress, the silk stockings and garter, and the new black sheer panties that she’d wear to the gala at Aria. She loved the possibility that such apparel suggested. That intimacy could ignite at any moment.

Yes, everything was ready for the fete.

But first, she had an insanely packed day ahead of her — a final meeting with the board for tonight’s fundraiser auction that she’d been overseeing for the new wing at the children’s hospital, a quick run-through with the torch singer she’d hired to croon sexy songs for the ballroom crowd, and a lunch with one of the event’s biggest supporters —a hotel CEO and his lovely wife who’d donated a gorgeous painting for the auction. Then she’d need to visit her brother at police headquarters to give him the transponder for her building’s parking garage.

Whew.

Sounded like this day called for one of her favorite pinup dresses. Pressing her finger to her lips, she ran her hand across her vast collection of dresses — the white one with an orange pattern, the sapphire blue number, the red pencil skirt style one.

So many to choose from, some days it was hard to pick.

“Ah, this is the dress,” she declared, when she landed on the black pinup dress with the cherry pattern.

Cherries were just so…tempting.

She slipped into it, zipped up the back, and struck a pose in front of the mirror. Blond curls, red lips, sexy dress. Why yes. She was indeed ready to tackle the day.

Besides, today could be the day she’d meet the kind of man who’d stare at her unabashedly. Who’d flirt, and she’d flirt back. Who’d be bold enough to walk right up to her.

A frisson of excitement raced through her, and she shuddered as she imagined her fantasy man. But she doubted she’d meet him today. Or the next day or the next. That was simply wishful thinking.

What a wish it was though.

* * *

A few more hours.

The tension in him tightened knowing he’d be seeing the detective later today. But he was determined to get to the bottom of this. When he met with John Winston, he’d do everything in his power to glean the information he needed about the murder investigation, all while keeping his own secrets about the past airtight and sealed.

“Isn’t that right, Johnny Cash?” he said to his dog, as they headed up the steps to his house after a solo workout — a quick three-mile run as the sun rose.

The dog didn’t answer him.

But that was okay. He still liked talking to his pooch about the things he didn’t tell anyone else. Johnny Cash knew everything. His dog was privy to all the details of the past that had been put in lockdown.

Once inside, he set down a bowl of water for his loyal companion, who greedily slurped it up. “You’re a thirsty guy,” he said, tousling his fur.

Then he headed to the shower, and stripped out of his workout clothes. As he stood under the hot stream, he concentrated on the day ahead of him. Last night’s meeting had gone well with his new client, and Ryan had a final phone call with the VP at the company this morning to confirm the deal.

As he scrubbed shampoo in his hair, he ran over the rest of his agenda. Reviewing a contract, lunch with a corporate client who wanted to upgrade his security services, then the detective meeting, and a free evening ahead of him.

Already, he sensed he’d need that free time. Need it to unwind after discussing an eighteen-year-old murder that still weighed on his family, and probably always would. Perhaps he’d spend the night playing a round of pool solo in his den.

Though it sure would be nice to have the right kind of company at his pool table sometime. As he pictured landing a shot in the corner pocket, a favorite image flashed into his brain.

A gorgeous woman, with curves and sexy lips, perched on the edge of his pool table, wearing only stunning lingerie. The come-hither kind that pushed up all her assets. He groaned at the tantalizing vision his dirty mind constructed. She’d be sultry, voluptuous, and willing. So willing to be taken the way he wanted to take her. She’d give herself freely, spread her legs, run a hand between them, trailing her fingertips sexily across the fabric of her panties.

Her wet panties.

Since she’d want him as much as he wanted to have her.

Yeah, that was a nice image for his shower. He liked that quite a lot. She’d be hot, and ready, trembling with the intense need to be touched, to be tasted, to come.

She’d be close, so damn close, and then he’d tell her to beg for it.

And she would, because she wanted that too, wanted to be told what to do. With legs spread, eyes all glossy with desire, and red lips parted, she’d whisper, “Please make me come.”

He’d heed that call. He’d answer that request. Controlling all her pleasure, whispering filthy words, keeping her bound to him, he’d give her all the bliss she deserved.

She’d come hard for him. Shuddering, and desperate for more.

Ryan breathed out deeply, as he washed the suds from his hair, and rinsed off his body. That was his dream woman.

For now though, he had a busy day ahead of him, so he dried off and dressed, pulling on boxers, charcoal gray slacks, and a crisp button-down. He scanned the neckwear dangling on his tie hanger. A good two dozen ties to choose from, but he grabbed an emerald green one, flashing back to something his brother-in-law’s brother, Clay, had said to him when they’d chatted at a family event a week ago.

“A man always needs a lucky tie.”

Ryan couldn’t agree more.

He stepped in front of the mirror in his bathroom, knotting his tie, and tightening it.

After one hell of an unlucky past, he could sure use some luck today.