Page 63 of The Billionaire Experience

“I’m not. This probably costs ten.” He closed her mouth by lifting her chin with his curled knuckle. “I’m going to buy you a formal dress for the party in two weeks too. That is, if you agree to come with me. I think you should. I’ll show you my penthouse.”

She was still wrapping her mind around the fact that she was standing in front of him in a dress that cost ten grand. “Brody?—”

“I know I’m the one trying on a new life, but I can’t help wanting to treat you the way you deserve.” He fiddled with one of the large red floral cutouts on the skirt. “Let me spoil you. I’m taking you to my brother’s event where you know no one. The least you can do is let me buy you a dress.”

“Or two?” she asked with a weak laugh.

“Yeah. Two.”

“Oh, Brody.” How had he made that sound so reasonable?

“I love when you say that,” he murmured against the soft flesh of her ear. His hands gripped her waist and gently squeezed. “But I prefer when you say it in a high, tight, moany way.”

As she was melting into him, Dana bustled into the room with a stack of boxed shoes. “I have choices for you!”

“Being a good gift receiver is an art, Reagan,” Brody reminded her as he backed away. “You’re doing great so far.”

And like that, he’d officially convinced her to step into his world, let him buy her dresses and shoes, and practice receiving for a change. She was out of excuses, not that he was hearing them anyway. So she gingerly sat down on a large round cushion as Dana unveiled the first pair of shoes.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Brody hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Reagan since they left the store. She’d chosen a formal gown in black, floor-length as per his suggestion, in addition to the red Oscar de la Renta, which she wore now.

To Dana’s delight, Reagan had picked the shiny patent leather Louboutins with the red soles. He’d refused to let her see the price of those either. It felt good to spend money the way he was accustomed to spending it. He’d been downright stifled lately. And, as he’d explained to Reagan during the drive here, she was doing him a favor by joining him at a party full of strangers. When she walked in, he wanted her to be the talk of the night.

“You’re sure this isn’t too much?” Reagan had asked from the passenger seat as she arranged the oversize flower cutouts on her skirt.

“Never.” Her dress wasn’t in the same stratosphere as “too much” in his opinion.

He’d reached over and held her hand as he pulled into the private parking garage attached to Zander’s building. After handing off the keys to the valet, he walked her through the lobby and into the elevator. Thanks to a family of four riding up most of the way with them, he did not make out with her for thirty-three floors like he wanted.

Outside Zander’s front door, Brody balanced the gift basket on one arm to knock.

“Brody! Reagan!” Chloe opened the door. She was grinning ear to ear, her yellow dress making her sunny smile appear sunnier.

“Where is your butler, m’lady?” He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Oh, please. I am just now getting used to this level of opulence. Speaking of…” She turned her attention to Reagan and spread her arms wide. “You look incredible. Pretty Woman come to life! I mean, minus the hooker part. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were hired for sex.” Chloe cringed. “Ignore me.”

“You’re not wrong. The shopping excursion made me feel like Julia Roberts, minus the part where she’s kicked out of the store,” Reagan replied easily, taking Chloe’s comments in stride.

“Come in, come in.” Chloe welcomed them into the house where there were already a dozen or so guests milling around.

Brody spotted Jaylyn and Zander and Reese and his wife, Merina. His other cousins were supposed to be here as well. He wondered if J had convinced Dante to show up after all.

“Would you like a glass of champagne?” Chloe wrapped her arm around Reagan’s waist. “I can introduce you around so you don’t have to adhere to Brody’s side.”

“Hey.” He pretended offense, but he didn’t mind if Reagan went off on her own. As long as she didn’t mind.

Reagan smiled over her shoulder as she went with Chloe to the bar. “I’ll find you later,” she promised.

He liked the sound of that. He was still watching her ass sway in that dress when his brother approached.

“Brody.” Zander offered up a glass of brown liquid. “Hundred-year-old scotch.”

“Thanks.” A member of the waitstaff scooped up the gift basket from his arms and carried it to the gift table on the far side of the room. Hands free, he clinked glasses with Zander and drank. “This it? Or are there more guests?”

“There will be more. You’re early.”

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