Last Chance at Love. Gwynne Forster

her gaze travel slowly from his feet to his head, allowed a half smile to curve her bottom lip, gave the appearance of being well satisfied with what she saw, and stepped ahead of him, a queen who didn’t doubt that her subject would follow. A glance in the wall mirrors revealed his wide grin and his delight in her frivolity. She swallowed a laugh when it occurred to her that she didn’t know where they were going and that she’d have to stop and wait for him. She spun around. The devil. That explained his amusement.

      His head went back, his eyes closed, silent laughter seemed to ripple through him, and his grin glistened as though a bright beam had settled on his mouth. “I have a car waiting. We’re going to The Golden Slipper. Does that suit you?”