Roman enjoyed the feeling of Abigail’s arms around his waist. Her touch was electrifying—even more so than the other women he had brought for rides on his bike. It made him want to take a few extra detours on the way to Central Park, where the ice cream vendor would be. He didn’t know how well Abigail knew the area though, so it was a bit risky for him to knowingly take a wrong turn. He didn’t want to scare her while she was still skittish around him, after all.

“Ah, ah,” Roman tutted when she tried to tell him not to pay for her. He flashed her a grin over his shoulder, smoothly leaning to his left to dodge a stopped taxi up ahead without slowing down. His driving was both reckless and controlled, the mark of someone who had years of biking experience and the confidence that came with it. “Don’t even bother trying to cover your own bill, darling. It wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to let you get away with that, now would it?” He leaned to his right to skirt around the side of a truck, laughing wildly. “Almost there now!”

With his efficient driving, it didn’t take long for them to reach Central Park. Roman slowed his motorcycle to a stop and climbed off. He held out a hand to help Abigail down, leaning forward in a garish but gentlemanly bow, “M’lady.”