Page 60 of Fake

“Of course, Mr. West. Right this way.” She leads us to a private room, with subtle lighting and plush armchairs. A rack of dresses sits in the middle near a dais placed in front of elegant full-length mirrors.

“There’s a changing room there,” says our sales clerk, pointing to a closed door in the back. “My name is Nora and I’ll return shortly with your champagne.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, Mina turns to me, jaw dropped, eyes wide. “This is too much, Nathan. Private rooms? Personal shoppers? I can think of a hundred better ways to spend this money.”

“I don’t want you to think about the money at all.”

“How can I not?”

She’s panicking and I don’t understand it. I have money I want to spend on her. Why is that a problem? I lower myself into one of the armchairs and drape my ankle over my knee. “Because you’re going to try on the dresses Nora picked for you and leave the money worries to me.”

“Nathan…”

I love the way she says my name. I want to make her scream it.

Nora arrives with two glasses of champagne, hands them to each of us, then leaves without a word. People who sell luxury know how to read the room.

Mina raises the glass to her lips, her eyes locked on mine. “Okay then,” she says after she swallows. “If his royal highness insists.”

“He insists.”

She pulls a dress off the rack and presses it to her body, swinging her hips back and forth to make the skirt sway.

“Like that one?”

She checks the price tag and her face blanches. “Not that much,” she says, hanging the dress back on the rack without a second glance.

Mina flips through the dresses, eyeing them appreciatively until she comes to one the color of champagne. She holds it to her body, eyeing her reflection almost reverently, then reaches for the tag.

“No more looking at prices,” I say, arching a brow.

She meets my eyes through the mirror, takes a deep breath, then drops the tag. “That’s a deeply ingrained habit, but I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask,” I reply with a smile. “How about that one? Like it?”

“It’s so pretty,” Mina gushes, “but I don’t think I can pull it off.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” I point to the door in the back of the room and Mina disappears inside.

Minutes later, the door cracks open and her head pokes through, her body hidden. “I can’t pull it off.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” I crook my finger, beckoning her out of the room. Mina hesitates, then swings the door open and steps forward.

Pearlescent silk hugs her frame, cascading over her breasts, her peaked nipples holding my attention until I follow the curve of her waist to her hips and then back up again. Thin straps sweep over her shoulders, exposing pale, delicate skin. Mina turns to inspect her reflection and my dick throbs as I’m afforded a view of her ass draped in silk.

Fuck me. I’d love to have that dress pooled on the floor at the end of my bed. Mina naked, waiting, legs spread for me as her dark locks fan across my pillow. My cock swells.

“It’s so pretty, but I don’t think I have the body for it.” Mina glances over her shoulder, worry furrowing her brow as she smooths the fabric at her belly and waist.

I stand and cross the room. You don’t appreciate a masterpiece from a distance.

Mina watches me approach, her eyes locked on mine like she can read the dirty thoughts parading through my head.

“Do you like it?” she asks, returning her attention to the mirror, smoothing her hands over her hips once again.

I fucking love it. I can’t stop staring. I want to be the one running my hands along that body.

“It’s fine,” I manage.

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