Rebel with a Cause by Natalie Anderson Page A

red alert. A date? He had to force his jaw apart to answer. ‘Of course.’
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    Rosanna flew back late Saturday afternoon. Sophy gave her an hour to relax in the bath then asked her as she lay on the sofa flicking through a magazine. ‘You have to come out with me tonight.’
    â€˜And you’re so desperate for my presence because?’
    â€˜I need your support.’
    Rosanna tossed the magazine to the floor. ‘What’s happened?’
    â€˜Nothing. But I don’t feel like walking into a crowded bar all by myself.’
    â€˜What bar?’
    â€˜Wildfire. Only opened this week. There’s a fund raiser tonight for the Whistle Fund there. I have to go. But I don’t want to go alone.’
    â€˜How is our favourite shark?’
    Sophy shrugged. ‘I hardly see him. He’s very busy. He’s the money behind this bar.’
    â€˜I’ll text the boys. Spread the word. It should be fun. And it’s for a good cause.’ Rosanna leapt up into action. ‘Well, we’d better find our selves something suitable to wear, then, huh?’
    Sophy grinned. Yeah, there was no holding Rosanna back from a party—or an excuse to get dressed to the nines. But two hours later she stared at her reflection in horror. ‘I’m not wearing this.’
    â€˜Why not? You look hot.’
    She looked like a wannabe catwoman, in Rosanna’s favourite black—skin-tight satin pants and a sleek, sheer top. It smacked of trying too hard, too out of character—as ifshe were going out of her way to draw his attention. Which she wasn’t. Not again. ‘It’s more you than me.’
    â€˜Keep the trousers, change the top.’ Rosanna was working on her eyes.
    Okay, that she could handle. Sophy went back to her own wardrobe and found one of her pretty silk tops—that flowed, less in your face figure-hugging. She picked up one of her neck laces.
    Rosanna appeared in her doorway. ‘Can I borrow one?’
    â€˜Absolutely.’
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    The bar was already packed when they got there. There was no formal aspect to the fund raiser. It was just that the charity was getting a percentage of the ticket sales—so, really, she didn’t think she had to be there. But she couldn’t not.
    Yeah, the place was an instant success. Lorenzo had the Midas touch, didn’t he? Knew the investments to pick, always had his finger on the new big thing.
    Sophy let Rosanna lead the way to the bar, she had a way about her that parted crowds. They ordered—classic cocktails—and waited for them to be mixed. Rosanna flipped so her back was against the bar and surveyed the room. ‘Looks good.’
    Sophy nodded, trying not to look anywhere. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to have to admit she had no date.
    â€˜Oh, my.’ Rosanna sighed, fanning herself.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I just saw Lorenzo.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    Rosanna spun back and leaned into Sophy. ‘I just saw the way he was looking at you.’
    â€˜Oh?’ Sophy’s skin felt as if it were about to blister.
    â€˜Kitten you are going to be gobbled. One bite.’ Rosanna laughed. ‘Lucky kitty.’
    â€˜The jet lag is getting to you,’ Sophy muttered, lifting the glass to her lips.
    â€˜Going to introduce me to your date, Sophy?’
    She gulped, the liquid burning. Oh, there he was. Right behind her. She turned. In the crush of bodies at the bar he was too close.
    â€˜Of course.’ She summoned some social skills. ‘This is my very special friend Rosanna. Rosanna, this is Lorenzo.’
    â€˜Pleasure.’ Lorenzo was purring like the cat who’d not just got the cream, but the bird too. ‘Vance wanted to meet you too. He’s my co-owner and manager of the bar.’
    Lorenzo moved slightly closer to Sophy so the man behind him could be seen. Sophy felt Rosanna stiffen.
    â€˜Hi, Vance.’ Sophy smiled,