He let his palms glide down over her back to cup her behind through the silk chiffon of her cocktail dress. A shimmer of arousal ran through her, awakening an answering heat in his eyes. “I was thinking of letting them wait,” he said. “I can wedge a chair under the door handle, and this couch looks pretty comfortable.” He tugged her zipper down and flicked open the hooks of her bra.

She twisted in his arms, trying to grab his wrists, but he was too strong and quick. “When those announcers talk about what good hands you have, they don’t know the half of it. You have to stop.”

He caught her hands behind her and pushed the bodice of her chiffon cocktail dress down to her waist. Then he bent to suck one nipple into his mouth.

He flicked her with his tongue, and she gasped and shuddered as heat spread through her to focus between her thighs. “Luke! Stop!”

He lifted his head and gave her a wicked grin. “I just wanted a taste.”

He loved to do this, get her flushed and disheveled and wanting. He said he needed her to think about him as much as he thought about her. He still didn’t believe that he was never out of her mind or her heart.

“How did you get this undone?” she asked, struggling to get her bra fastened again.

“Allow me.” He had her hooked and zipped in two seconds flat.

Miranda sighed and checked her appearance in the ornamental mirror hanging over the small fireplace. A swipe of lipstick and she looked respectable in her floating black dress with its dusting of beading. The diamond earrings Luke had given her for Christmas flashed on her earlobes.

He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder so his gilded hair glowed beside her dark waves. She let her gaze rove over the perfect planes of his face: the slashing cheekbones, the hard line of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrows, and the pale, blazing blue of his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

She burst out laughing. “You’re much prettier than I am.”

He straightened and patted her on the butt. “You’re going to give me a complex.”

She took his hand and headed toward the door. She loved the way he moved beside her, the thigh muscles under his perfectly fitted gray trousers turning his stride into a visual feast.

“I still can’t believe you bet all of your Super Bowl rings on finding the right woman,” she said in a low voice. He’d told her on the way to the Bellwether Club what his wager had been.

“I felt like I wouldn’t want any reminders of football once I retired.” He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. “I wasn’t in a good place.”

She hadn’t understood until tonight just how dark his mood had been when he’d made the wager. Now she felt both the giddy delight and the weighty responsibility of being the one who had snapped him out of it.

They climbed the carpeted stairs and walked into the famous bar where the three gamblers had first met. Gavin beckoned to them from a table set by one of the tall windows. He was dressed in an open-necked black shirt, black blazer, and dark gray trousers. Miranda feared that the color of his clothes reflected his emotional state.

“And here we are,” Gavin said as they approached. “Our original number increased by two. Miranda, you look lovely tonight.” He kissed her on the cheek before he held out his hand to Luke. “Archer, you look like a football player.”

“Miranda, I’m so happy for you and Luke.” Chloe Russell, Nathan’s fiancée, swooped in for a hug, her rose taffeta skirt rustling. Miranda had met them both at a Christmas party at Nathan’s penthouse, and she and the no-nonsense Chloe were on the road to a close friendship.

“Best wishes, Miranda.” The tall CEO in his custom-tailored suit bent to kiss her cheek. “Congratulations, Archer. You fooled us into thinking you weren’t even in the game until after the football season.”

Luke gave Miranda a secret smile. “Life happens when you’re making other plans.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Gavin said. “If you’re going to spout nauseating clichés, I’m headed for the door.”

“Without drinking the 1928 Dom Pérignon?” Nathan said. He picked up the bottle and turned to Miranda. “Vintage Dom has become a tradition at this particular celebration.” He filled the sparkling flutes arrayed on the table.

“The ring. We must see the ring,” Gavin said, as everyone picked up their glasses. “And I don’t mean your Super Bowl monstrosity, Archer. We’ve already admired that.” In fact, Gavin had surprised Luke by hosting a celebratory party at his New York City home. The writer claimed not to be a sports fan, but he had put on quite a gala event.

Feeling strangely shy, Miranda held up her left hand and tilted it so the diamond glittered.

“It’s gorgeous!” Chloe said. “May I take a closer look?”

Miranda held her hand out to her new friend, knowing what was coming next.

“Um, Nathan, I think we’ve been beaten to the altar.” Chloe looked at her fiancé with laughter in her warm brown eyes.

“Is that so?” Nathan turned to Luke.

“The clock was running, so I went to a no-huddle offense and called an audible,” Luke said.

“We had a family-only service in my hometown church,” Miranda said, remembering how intimate and beautiful the ceremony had been in the simple Victorian-era clapboard chapel. Trevor had stood as Luke’s best man while Patty had been her matron of honor. Theo carried the ring on a blue-and-gold pillow. “We’re planning a big reception here in the city now that football season is over. Of course, we hope you’ll all come.”