Yank Morgan trailed right along with them until Lola deliberately pulled him away for a scolding.
Amy chuckled at the family dynamic, one to which she could relate.
But she had something more important to focus on now than Yank and Lola.
Roper’s gaze locked on Amy’s and her insides twisted with the familiar sense of awareness he’d invoked in her once before.
“Ladies, please come rescue me from wedding talk,” Roper said, reaching out and putting an arm around Sophie’s shoulder.
But he never broke eye contact with Amy.
“Wedding?” Sophie asked, her voice rising. “I didn’t know you were even seeing someone special.”
Wedding?
A voice inside Amy’s head echoed and her stomach cramped.
“As in, you and a member of the opposite sex making a permanent commitment? Someone give me a fan. I think I’m going to faint.”
Sophie waved a hand in front of her face, mocking him and chuckling at the same time.
“Did you hear that, John? They think
you’re
getting married.” The woman by his side, a different woman from the last one Amy had seen him with, laughed in real amusement.
When she turned around, Amy realized the other woman was much younger than she’d originally thought. Certainly younger than Amy and definitely younger than John Roper.
“John’s not my fiancé, he’s my brother,” the other woman explained.
Amy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She wanted to dismiss the wave of relief washing over her, but she couldn’t.
Roper wasn’t getting married and she could breathe again. Obviously, despite her frustration with him over their first meeting, the attraction was still there, strong as ever.
“Ah, now that makes more sense.” Sophie nodded in understanding.
“I couldn’t see you taking yourself off the market, and I definitely couldn’t see the papers missing out on the courtship.”
“Ha, ha,” Roper muttered.
While they were sparring, Amy took a moment to look at the younger woman with fresh eyes. With the family connection made, Amy saw the resemblance now—the sandy-blond hair, the shape and color of their green eyes and the matching dimples.
“Sabrina, meet everyone here.” Roper inclined his head towards his sibling. “Everyone, meet my sister, Sabrina.” He finished the introductions with a quick wave of his hand.
“Nice to meet you all.” Sabrina smiled, once again reinforcing the family resemblance. “I wish I could stay and hang out, but I’ve got to go find my fiancé.”
“Nice to meet you,” Amy murmured, but Roper’s sister had taken off before she could hear the reply.
Sophie glanced at her watch. “I should follow her lead. Riley should have been here by now.”
“Go on. I’ll take good care of Amy while you’re gone.”
Sophie shot Amy a look of concern, but Amy didn’t want the other woman worrying about her or thinking she couldn’t handle herself with one of Hot Zone’s clients.
Amy put on her brightest smile. “Say hi to Riley and tell him I’ll catch up with him in a few minutes,” Amy said.
“Are you sure?” Sophie’s gaze bounced between Amy and Roper.
Roper pushed off from where he was leaning against the wall and rose to his full, overwhelming height.
“Don’t worry about me,” Roper said, treating Amy to a wink and a grin that caused a tingling straight down to her toes.
“I wasn’t. Amy?” Sophie asked.
“Go find my cousin and give him a kiss for me.” She dismissed the other woman’s worry with an encouraging smile.
Sophie turned to Roper. “You know that Riley will kick your ass if you misbehave, so be good to Amy. She’s new in town.”
He cocked an eyebrow, throwing a sexy look her way. “When am I ever not good?”
Which was exactly what had Amy on edge. But she was a big girl.
She could handle herself, as well as John Roper.
Sophie frowned, but after a lingering glance at Amy, took off to find her husband, leaving them alone.
Roper stepped closer. And Amy knew she was in deep trouble.
WHEN YANK INSISTED ROPER
show up at this gig, he’d agreed under duress. Now Roper realized fate wanted him here so it could present him with the one thing he needed—a distraction from his career problems, his sister’s wedding and his brother’s constant whining about a loan. Amy Stone provided that distraction. Apparently life had given him a second chance, and he decided to take this as the first positive sign in ages. Maybe things were looking up after all.
He vividly recalled the instant attraction he’d felt for Amy the first time he’d laid eyes on her. And the stirring in his body told him
that
much hadn’t changed. He’d gone to the wedding out of obligation, still in a funk over the blown World Series. But one look at the pretty brunette and all thoughts of his problems had fled. She’d been a breath of fresh air in his down-and-out life. He’d actually forgotten all about his date, mostly because she was simply arm candy and hadn’t meant anything to him at all. Not that that was an excuse. Although Roper liked women, all women—blond, brunette or redhead, natural or from a bottle—when he looked at Amy, the punch in the gut had been harder and more defined.
He hadn’t lost sight of the fact that he’d made an ass of himself the last time they were together and he owed her an apology for what had transpired. Now, with everyone gone, he and Amy were alone in their own corner of the party and she met his gaze head-on, not blinking or backing down.
He admired the fact that he couldn’t rattle her and refused to rush his perusal. She had tanned skin only someone from a southern state could manage, a fresh, unjaded look in her eyes, and curly hair that didn’t appear overly set with sprays or products. He could definitely get into tangling his hands in the soft brown curls.
But most of all he wanted to be with a woman who in all likelihood didn’t keep up with New York sports news and Roper’s humiliations.
One who wouldn’t pity him, judge him or want something from him in any way. Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. Chances were good she hadn’t forgiven him for the scene at the wedding, and he couldn’t blame her.
“So how have you been?” he asked once they were alone, or as alone as they could be in a room full of people.
“Just fine, and you?” She folded her arms across her chest, causing her cleavage to swell above the glittery gold tank she wore beneath a white silk blouse.
He knew Amy’s movement was unintentional, and he had to admit her lack of pretense was one of the things he found most appealing about her. “I’ve been better,” he admitted, opting for honesty.
But he didn’t want to get into his recent problems. He cleared his throat and asked, “Been in town long?” Not his best line, but he wanted to change the subject.
She shook her head. “Not very.”
She wasn’t making this easy. For the first time, he was uptight around a woman and unsure of how to reach her. “So, um, when do you leave?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “Anxious to get rid of me already?”
He shook his head, exhaling hard. “I’m blowing this big-time. Let’s backtrack, okay? It’s good to see you again.”
“Same here.” She immediately pursed her lips.
He’d bet she wished she could take that comment back, but he liked her refreshing honesty.
She turned, obviously scanning the crowd.
He followed her gaze but couldn’t pinpoint anyone or anything that would have distracted her. “Looking for someone?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said as she pivoted back to face him. “I was trying to locate your date.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “What makes you think I brought one?”
he asked.
“Experience.”
“Touché.”
She shrugged. “I can’t imagine you spending New Year’s Eve alone.”
She reached her hand out, tapping a finger against his pink Ralph Lauren dress shirt.
She was bolder than he thought she’d be, but the slight trembling of her fingers told him the movement was forced. He’d bet she didn’t want him to think he could get to her again.
Well, hell.
She
got to him. “You wound me,” Roper said.
“You’ll live.”
He laughed hard, something he hadn’t done in way too long. “I suppose I deserved that.”
She grinned. “You supposed right.” Her hand lingered. Her pink fingernails were short and blended with the color of his shirt.
His flesh burned hot underneath the material. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her delicate fingertips lingering so close to the buttons that would let his skin touch hers.
She followed his stare, glanced down, realized she hadn’t removed her hand and snatched it away, leaving him to wonder if she’d felt the same searing heat.
She cleared her throat. “Well, your shirt’s clean so I assume you’ve been a good boy. You haven’t ticked off your date, at least not yet. So where is she? Ladies’ room? Buffet table?”
They were bantering easily and he was glad. But he’d like for her to get to know him better so he could erase the bad first impression he’d made. “If I admit that was tacky and I apologize, can we start over?”
he asked.
“That depends.” She narrowed her gaze, assessing him in silence, but assessing him nonetheless.
Roper decided the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off him was a good thing. At least it was mutual. He couldn’t stop staring at her, either. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d be good for him. A welcome break from physical therapy for his sprained shoulder and from wondering whether or not he’d return in time for spring training.
“I didn’t come with a date,” he admitted, refocusing on Amy.
“Lesson learned the hard way.” Thank God.
She inclined her head. “That’s a start,” she murmured.
“What if I told you I was so taken by you at the wedding that I couldn’t help myself, date or no date?”
She swiped her tongue over her lightly glossed lips. “I’d say you were pushing it and would be better off with just the apology.”
“Even if I was telling the truth?”
“Especially then,” she said, her voice huskier than before.
He stepped closer, so close he could examine each freckle on her nose and cheeks. “Come on, give me another chance. Let’s start fresh.”
On impulse, he reached out and ran his finger down the tip of her nose.
Skin touched skin and his hand sizzled on contact.
Her eyes widened with awareness, but she didn’t back away.
Pleased, he tipped his head even closer. “So what do you say?”
She bit down on her lower lip, pausing in thought.
The seconds that he waited were the longest of his life.
“For the sake of peace, why not?” she finally said.
He had the second chance he’d sought, he thought with relief. “Can I get you some punch?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m going to stay away from alcohol.
Besides, I should really get—”
A loud bell-like sound clanged, drowning out her voice.
“What’s that?” Amy yelled over the noise.
“Sounds like a fire alarm.”
And he must have been right because the guests, talking loudly among themselves, headed for the front of the offices leading to the hallway.
“Let’s get moving,” he said.
“Are you serious? We’re twenty floors up!” Panicked, she grabbed for her heels.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to take off my shoes so I could run downstairs easier!”
He swallowed a laugh, knowing her fear was real. “In my experience, more often than not it’s a false alarm.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Haven’t you ever seen
The Towering
Inferno?
”
He chuckled aloud this time. “It’s a bad seventies movie, not reality.
But you have a point. Let’s get going. If the shoes don’t hurt, you can keep them on. We’re not going to be running. Just moving quickly.”
She nodded.
“Shoes on or off?” he asked, talking loudly to compensate for the clanging bell.
“On. The heels aren’t that high. I’ll be fine.”
Before she could make a run for the stairs or push through the crowds, Roper slipped his hand into hers and took control. He led her to the fire exit along with the rest of the guests and they maneuvered the long walk down in silence, punctuated by the alarm but with no hint of smoke or fire. Finally they stepped into the front lobby and were greeted by firemen in uniform directing people to the sidewalk across the street.
From what Roper could gather, the fire chief thought it was a false alarm, but until they checked out the building, they couldn’t be sure.
Everyone needed to evacuate.
Outside, he caught up with one of his teammates.
Jorge Calderone lifted a hand in greeting. “Someone say Yank Morgan trip on his Noodle and accidentally pull on the fire alarm,” he said in his heavy accent.
Roper shook his head and laughed. “You’re kidding. Was the old man hurt?”
“He’s fine. But Sophia
mucho
angry that he ruined the party.”
Roper thought of perfectionist Sophie and said, “I just bet she is.”
“I’m not staying to freeze my ass off out here. See ya,
mi amigo.
”
Jorge strode away without looking back.
Roper turned to Amy. “I’d have introduced you to my friend but he took off too fast.”
“Not a problem.” Her voice shook as she spoke and she had wrapped her arms around her upper body as she shivered in the below-freezing temperatures.
He slipped his sport jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders.
She smiled appreciatively. “Thanks. I left my jacket at the coat check when I arrived, and my body is used to much warmer temperatures.”
“I should have figured as much. Can I take you somewhere for dinner? I know a nice place with good food.” The party might be over, but he wasn’t ready to part ways with Amy just yet.
“No thanks. I really should just go home, change and get warm. Oh, no.” She swung around and glanced back at the building.
“What’s wrong?”
She shut her eyes, frustration clear in her expression. “I left my key in my coat pocket.”
He shoved his hands into his front trouser pockets for warmth. “I’m sure the hotel would issue you another one, unless your ID is in your pocket, too?”