“Ready?” Miles asked as soon as she emerged from the bathroom.
“Where are…”
He held up her thong underwear with a raised brow before stuffing the scrap of lace in his pocket. “You don’t need it. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t worth arguing over since he would be taking her directly back to the shelter and she had to dash upstairs to change anyway. “I was thinking,” Hope said when he opened the door. “I could pay a little toward those tickets next week. I don’t mind donating to the cause.”
Warmth entered those obsidian eyes as he murmured, “Could you, now?” Taking her hand for the first time, he tugged her up the stairs, tossing over his shoulder. “I’ve got it, Hope.” He shrugged those wide shoulders. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
Hope was too giddy at finally earning a more personal touch from him to insist. For the first time, she didn’t worry about his reaction when she told him about Craig, including how she hadn’t loved her fiancé. She couldn’t expect him to be the only one willing to give if they were moving forward, and she really, really wanted to see where they could go from here.
“Here. You’re doing it wrong.” Ed shoved aside Miles’ hands, adjusted his tie then stepped back with a pat to his shoulder. “Better. What made you change your mind about asking Hope out?”
Miles thought back to Monday morning, when he looked in the mirror in the yacht’s bathroom and saw the look on Hope’s face when she noticed his tattoo. He’d always kept that tribute to his mother private, just as he had his memories of her shielding him from his father’s blows, even after he’d grown big enough to dodge them or take on the old man himself. How many times had he applied ice to his mother’s bruised face or wrapped an ACE bandage around a swollen wrist? The first time he’d seen Hope, her face reflected the same fierce determination to protect he’d seen so many times on his mother’s. Was that why he’d fallen so hard and fast for her? Had he finally let her see the tattoo, and its sentiment, to gauge her reaction and force him to admit to his feelings?
“It’s a date, for a good cause. Nothing else,” he told Ed, refusing to start the evening with unanswered questions.
Ed turned and started out of Miles’ bedroom before he reminded him, “Like I’ve been telling you for over twenty years, you’re not your father. Have a good time tonight.”
Miles snatched his suit jacket off the chair, scowling at his mentor’s retreating back. He knew he wasn’t his old man, and it was time he quit letting the past rule his future. He wanted Hope; in his bed, in his life. He’d ribbed his friends over their recent commitments, giving them a hard time about letting a woman get to them. The truth was, Hope had gotten to him the moment he met her, and he hadn’t been able to shake her since. Now, he didn’t want to.
Thirty minutes later, she opened her apartment door and he almost swallowed his tongue seeing her in an electric blue dress that swirled around her calves and clung to her full breasts, emphasizing their shape and softness. Her white blonde hair fell around her bare shoulders and brushed with tantalizing, eye-drawing appeal over her nipples. The waist tucked in to flare out around her hips and the black heels showcased her legs to perfection. He leaned against the door jamb and took his time looking her over until his eyes rose to her flushed face.
“You look beautiful. Ready?”
“Yes, and thank you.” Closing and locking the door behind her, she turned to look up at him with a soft smile. “And may I say you clean up nicely, Mr. Cavenaugh.”
“You may, just not in front of anyone else.” He took her hand and felt her fingers tremble in his, which made him want to smile. He liked knowing he flustered her.
“How many vehicles do you have?” Hope eyed his sporty SUV with relief.
“A few. What?” Opening the passenger door, he asked, “Did you think I would pick you up for this on Rhonda?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know.”
“I’m not completely uncouth.” Shutting the door, he walked around to the driver’s side wondering if that wasn’t a lie. All he could think about was flipping up that dress, stripping off whatever she wore under it and burying himself inside her, regardless of where they were or who might see.
There was a reason Soho Studios was voted the best event venue in Miami, and as Miles pulled up out front and waited for the valet parking to get his keys, Hope eyed the long line of people entering the facility for the annual fundraiser. “They really get a crowd for this, don’t they?”
“Yeah, it’s gotten bigger since the city has been so successful in cleaning up the gangs.” He caught a quick frown on her face and asked sharply, “What’s wrong?”
“What? Oh, nothing.” She waved an airy hand. “Traci mentioned the other day that someone came by asking for me, a young, rough-looking guy. He didn’t leave his name and I have no idea who it could’ve been, unless it was someone who has stayed at the shelter previously. With the recent graffiti we’ve seen, I was just wondering if maybe someone in a gang had it in for someone at the shelter. If so, they won’t get anything from me, if he returns,” she said in a hardened voice.
Miles immediately thought of Mateo and vowed to find him tomorrow and question him. He would not have that punk harassing Hope. “You call me if you or Traci see anyone suspicious, or if this guy returns.” The valet opened his door and he got out, handed him the keys and escorted Hope inside. He wanted her to have fun tonight, not worry about work or gangs. That was his job, one he took as seriously as he did her safety.
White cloth-draped tables sat under glittering chandeliers and the aroma from the evening’s menu of grilled salmon and savory herb-baked chicken permeated the air as they stepped inside. Hope spotted the long table of decadent desserts and her mouth watered at the array of samplings. Soft background music accompanied low-voiced conversations of the one-hundred plus guests all dressed in their finest. But none of the men looked as good as Miles in his dark suit. She was hard pressed to keep from teasing him when he kept fidgeting with his tie and tugging on his jacket. It was obvious he much preferred his gi or his leathers to formal attire. As good as he looked, she would rather see him in his butt molding jeans, or nothing at all.
It wasn’t until they’d stayed the night on the yacht that she’d seen his naked body. The night she stayed over at his place, she’d felt the pleasure of his naked, muscled strength next to her for the first time, but her imagination after tracing over his warm, taut skin hadn’t come close to the sheer magnetism of his body. His flesh felt like silk over steel, his muscles ripped without being too big and bulging.
Nodding toward the tables lining the far wall holding items for the silent auction, Miles said, “There’re Sandie and Krista.” Taking her hand, something she knew she’d never tire of him doing, he led her over to her friends. “I see Zach and Dax at the bar. What would you like?”
“Wine would be nice. I’m not picky.” She watched him stride through the crowd before Krista snagged her attention.
“He looks as good as Dax in a suit.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh. Following them down the table, Hope asked, “What are you bidding on?”
“There’s some artwork I’d love to have, but I doubt my bids will get them.” Sandie eyed a painting with longing.
Krista nudged her with a grin. “Zach’s got more money than all the guys put together. You know he’ll get it for you if you want it.”
Sandie frowned at her. “I’m not with him because he has money.”
“I know that, but if he wants to indulge you, and it’s for a good cause, then let him.”
“I agree with Krista,” Hope put in as she wrote a bid on a large basket of perfumes, lotions, bath salts, wine and chocolates. “I’d love to pamper myself with these items. And the basket will look good next to my sofa.”
“Well, if Dax and Miles can afford to plop down ten thousand per ticket for this event, they’re not doing too shabby themselves,” Sandie said as she upped her bid on the painting
.
Hope stopped and stared at her in disbelief. “Ten thousand?” There was a time when that kind of money had meant an extravagant shopping weekend for her. Now it meant food for weeks for the countless homeless people who came through her shelter. She’d had no idea Miles had that kind of money, and as she thought of telling him about what happened with Craig, a cold chill slithered down her spine.
“I take it you didn’t know that?” Krista asked her.
“No, I didn’t.”
Sandie shrugged but eyed her pale face with concern. “What’s the big deal? He’s still the guy you want to be with, regardless of his wealth, isn’t he?”
Yes, he was, but was she the one he would still want if her past could reflect badly on him and, in turn, on his good work with Miami’s youth? She thought she had worked through all of her insecurities regarding her actions in Atlanta that led to Craig’s death and telling Miles about what happened. Now, she found herself back at square one, struggling with what to do.
“Hope? Are you okay?”
“What? Oh, yes, Krista. Just thinking.”
Miles, Dax and Zach joined them just then and at Sandie’s inquisitive look, Hope shook her head. She had some thinking to do and needed to do it away from her well-meaning friends and Miles’ probing looks. Taking the glass of wine he handed her, she murmured her thanks and breathed a sigh of relief when the call to be seated for dinner came over the speakers.