“Well, come on then, let’s get all Risky Business up in here.” He softly tugged her to where a makeshift dance floor had formed in front of the blond pop star, who riled up the crowd with an extended version of her latest hit.

Angel slid off her high heels and held them as she and Duke shimmied and shook. He lost himself in the pulse of the music and the energy of the people around him. He watched as Angel closed her eyes, letting her body become loose, in tune. She raised her arms, moving them gracefully, and turned to the stage, singing along. She was sexy and free. Duke wanted to close his eyes and join her.

Just then, without looking back, she pushed her backside into him, swaying her hips to the beat. He matched her rhythm, pressing against her, moving to the music together.

Then pain spiked through his ankle.

Of fucking course. He’d been moving carefully, but he’d become distracted by Angel.

He bent so his lips were on her ear and said, “Hey, I’ve got to sit down. My ankle doesn’t feel that great.” It was hard to straighten back up, not because of his balance but because of her spicy sweet smell and the slipperiness of her back.

She turned and went to take his arm, concern etched on her face.

“Stop! I don’t need a nurse,” he said in a low, stern voice, pushing her hand away. He scanned the crowd around him, making sure no one was paying attention.

The young woman recoiled. “Fine,” she spit out.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” he groaned. Her face darkened further. Duke felt a surge of defensive irritation. “I meant, I don’t want these guys to see me hobbling around. I’ll be fine.”

He walked stiffly back to the bar and leaned against it. “Yo, another shot of tequila over here.” He turned to Angel, whom he could feel standing behind him, judging him.

“You want something, Angel?”

“No, I’m good.”

It was clear she was put off, which only made him more irritated. He could feel the liquor running trails through his mind; he’d been hoping she’d flow with him tonight.

She leaned against the bar, staring at him. Then she stooped to slide on her high heels, her fingers trailing across her foot and up her calf, and he forgot about his bad mood.

So damn sexy.

Kinley and a small group of women clustered around them.

“Duke, you remember Tyrone’s wife, Alise?”

The wife of the current heavyweight boxing champion stepped between him and Angel, nestling up to Duke. He put a friendly arm around her, wondering if it would make Angel jealous. Hoping.

The older woman purred, “Ready for the season? Your pitching arm warmed up?”

He flexed, turning to make sure Angel could see. “Check out these guns.” His muscles bulged under his fitted white dress shirt.