her eyes widened.
Rowan flashed the smile that had secured his latest six-figure modeling contract. “Dr. Rios, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
Maria nudged Vera not-so-discreetly and scurried to her car, leaving Vera and Rowan staring at each other.
“Uh, I…” Vera glanced down at her tote and shifted her weight, as if on the verge of running. When she looked up and met his gaze, the sparkle of humor in her eyes caught him off guard. “Just to be sure I can afford it, what is your…um…rate?”
The truth about his profession stood on the tip of his tongue, but driven by a perversely wicked streak of matching humor, he bit it back. “Let’s just say the first one’s on me.”
“Really?”
Rowan stepped forward and reached for her hand. She did not resist as he raised it to his lips. He kept his eyes on hers and observed her transition from wary hesitation to trembling anticipation as he breathed the promise of a kiss upon her knuckles. Her slender fingers quivered as he laced his fingers with hers, but she did not pull away. Their hands fit well together; perhaps it was a lucky omen.
For a moment, Rowan forgot that his only intention was to give a lonely woman a wonderful night on the town. He gestured to his car. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
She glanced at her car, a sedate silver Honda Accord, and then at his firecracker red Audi. “I…”
He supposed that healthy caution was not a bad thing for a woman. “I’m not in the habit of hurting women. Remember, escorts only get paid if the woman is alive and happy after the date.”
She pressed her lips together. It could have been a nervous gesture, but a corner of her mouth quirked upward. If he had to hazard a guess, he would have pegged her as amused rather than concerned.
“You could call Iris,” he suggested. “Ask for a reference.” He had to work to conceal his smile. His sister would be livid, but he knew Iris well enough to suspect that she would actually play along, just for laughs. After all, no one was getting hurt.
“I guess I will,” Vera said. She tugged her hand free and walked a short distance away before reaching into her bag for her cell phone.
Rowan leaned against his car, his tongue tucked into his cheek, and braced for an evening that was going to be a great deal more entertaining than he had anticipated.
Chapter 3
Vera searched her cell phone directory for Iris’s number, but stopped short of calling it. What was the point? Rowan was obviously confident of receiving a positive referral from Iris, and it could mean anything from something as fundamental as “He’s not going to rape you and kill you” to the truly important things like “He’s a demigod in the bedroom.”
Vera turned her back on Rowan to hide her sudden blush and held up the phone to her ear to fake a private phone conversation. Could Iris say anything that could change her mind?
Probably not, she decided. She lingered on the fake phone call for a few moments longer before slipping her cell phone back into her bag and walking toward Rowan. “All right, I’m in.”
He held the car door open for her. “I promise it’ll be the best night you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours.”
She laughed. “Not aiming high, are we?” Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders, although the butterflies in her stomach were multiplying in a breeding season run amok. God knew Rowan did not need to aim high. The last time she had been out on a date with someone who wasn’t her husband had been fourteen years ago, at her junior year prom. She had married Darren several months later, and the butterflies in her stomach had gone extinct shortly thereafter.
Well, they were back with vengeance now. She looked at Rowan as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Where are we going?”
“Ever been to YOLO?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s a fun scene. I think you’ll like it.” The Audi engine came to life with a low purr. Rowan handled the stick shift of the obedient-though-not-quite-tame sports car with the same easy confidence that had attracted Vera from the start. “Have you lived in Fort Lauderdale long?” he asked.
“Most of my life. I left for medical school, but came back for my residency. What about you?”
“I live in New York.”
“Oh?” She studied his chiseled profile. “Did you come down here for a date?”
A corner