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and drops her face, her cheeks flushed. I hook my fingers beneath her chin and bring her eyes back to mine, lifting my eyebrows.

Is she thinking what I think she’s thinking?

“I just thought it might be . . . um . . . fun, you know? To make out in a limo?”

My body hums with excitement at the prospect of getting dirty with Raven in the backseat of a chauffeured vehicle.

I grab her hand and lead her to the front door. “Fine. But we’re leaving right after dinner and picking up where we left off.”

“Sounds good to me,” she says through her giggles.

***

“Mr. Slade, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the limo driver says while looking at us from the rearview mirror. “I’ve been following your career for years.”

Ah, shit. I’m presented with the opportunity to shove my hand up Raven’s dress in a moving vehicle, and we get chatty Charles the limo driver.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.”

Raven rubs my thigh with soothing strokes, and I consider moving her hand up six inches. Would Charles even notice? Nah.

“That fight in ’07 against Hollander was incredible. How long had you been with the UFL when you fought him?”

I groan and curse the fact that I represent more than myself at times like these, but also my training team and the UFL. “Four ye—”

“Four years! That’s how many. And three years before that you were undefeated against Santoro!” He slaps his steering wheel, his booming laughter filling the length of the car.

“Yeah, look we were hoping for a little private time to talk about some things. Do you think we could put up the privacy wall, so—”

“My cousin Junior is training with an MMA fighting league in San Antonio. He’s been . . .”

Charles goes on and on, but my focus is on my girl whose face is bright red from holding back laughter. Hardy fucking har har.

I decide I’ve heard enough from Charles and tell him we’ll continue after the dinner, but that I need some fucking alone time with my date. Shit.

Privacy window up and finally alone, I’m assaulted by her smell. I practically attack her, not that she’s complaining. I almost get my hand up her dress when the limo lurches to a stop. Shit!

I tell Charles we need five minutes. Raven checks her face in a mirror, and I think about everything except what I’ll be doing to her later tonight. Great, now I’m thinking about it again.

“You about done? If’ I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll finish what I started.”

She gives me a sexy smile and tucks a couple loose strands of hair back into place. “I’m ready.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her mixed message reply.

We exit the limo, and holding hands, we walk through Mandalay Bay Hotel’s casino to the elevators. Raven fidgets at my side as photographers snap pictures and people start to gather.

“You look gorgeous, baby.” I try to take her mind off being the center of attention to a bunch of strangers. She blushes and holds my hand tighter.

This dinner is held on the sixty-fourth floor of the hotel in a swanky restaurant called Mix. As soon as we exit the elevator, we’re greeted by an older gentleman in a tuxedo.

“Ah, Mr. Slade. Your party is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you and Miss . . .”

Her hand locks mine in a death grip.

“Raven,” I say.

“Of course, Mr. Slade. Miss Raven. Please follow me.”

Releasing her firm grip, she leans into my shoulder. “Thank you.” Her whispered words are only for my ears.

I lift her hand, kiss her knuckles, and give her a wink. She never tells people her last name, afraid of being associated with Dominick. His name circulates among the richest of Vegas’s philanderers. And a high-end place like this is bound to be familiar with the name if not the man himself.

We’re led into a private dining room in the back of the restaurant. It’s packed with roughly thirty people from the organization. I feel Raven’s hesitation as we step into the crowd. I spot Owen and Nikki across the room and decide to stick close to them so that Raven will have someone to talk to.

Different people greet me with handshakes and hellos, but all their eyes are on my girl. This is going to be a long fucking night.

Twenty-four

Raven

I’m at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, I arrived by limo, and I’m wearing an outfit that cost more than I make in a month, bought for me by my rich boyfriend.

I’m Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

How appropriate.

No, Cinderella. I’m Cinderella out with my Prince Charming. Although, I’m pretty sure my Prince Charming would kick the real Prince Charming’s butt in a fistfight. And now my nerves are setting up imaginary fights between cartoon characters.

Well, at least it’s taking my mind off the fact that I’m totally out of my element. I may as well have written I don’t belong on my forehead in black eyeliner. Everyone here is either rich, famous, influential, or a combination of all three. I need to pull it together.

I jump as Jonah places his hand on my back. I look up to see a tall man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes eyeing me.

“Raven, this is Taylor Gibbs, the owner of the UFL.”

I gather my social graces. I’ve never seen so many high-powered people in one room. The place is practically vibrating with egos and money.

“Mr. Gibbs, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.”

“Raven, it’s a pleasure.”

He reaches out to shake the hand I’ve extended. Jonah tenses and pulls me closer to him, tucking me deep into his side. Mr. Gibbs brings my offered hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.

I press deeper into Jonah at the gesture. No one’s touch feels welcome, except Jonah’s. To keep from embarrassing him in front of his boss, I put on a brave face.

“I’m glad you could make it, Raven.” His glare zeros in on

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