Page 185 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘I know it sounds odd.’ Because it sure did, even to Mari. ‘But it pays well with a really good bonus.’

‘In that case,’ Suzanne said with a sniff, ‘I’ll miss you.’

Mari reached out to take her sister’s hand. ‘And me you. But at least I’ll know my peace lily will be in good hands.’

The same butler let her back into Dom’s suite, relieving her of her pull-along suitcase. Dominico was looking out of the window, phone in hand, the other hand behind his head, and just the view of his broad shoulders, the pull of his shirt over the muscled arm triangled behind his head, was enough to ramp up her heart rate. He ended the call and turned around, his eyes fixing on her immediately. ‘Change of plans,’ he barked. ‘There’s no way we can get married in Spain, or even in Australia for at least a month from now. The licence conditions don’t allow for it.’

‘Oh. So, the deal’s off?’ Mari wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. Relief had a slight edge, but then there remained the issue of repaying the million-dollar advance she’d asked for.

‘No, nothing’s off. But we can’t wait four weeks. We have no choice. We leave for Las Vegas first thing in the morning. Once we’re married, we’ll head to Spain.’ He glanced at the suitcase the butler had in hand. ‘What’s that?’

‘My things. My clothes.’

‘I thought I told you not to bother with that. The stylist is in your room waiting to outfit you.’

‘My room?’ He was talking nonsense. ‘What are you talking about?’

He pointed to his left, to the door, now open, beyond the dining room. She saw racks of clothes inside and a bevy of women sorting through them. ‘That’s your room. You’ve got work to do.’

She looked back at him. ‘What is this? I don’t need someone to dress me. I’m thirty-nine years old, not twelve. I hardly need a dresser.’

His gaze raked her up and down, now wearing what she’d imagined would make for comfortable travel wear, and nothing about his gaze was complimentary.

She bristled, her spine pulling tight. ‘You think that insulting me makes me more amenable to playing your wife?’

‘I’m not insulting you. I’m just pointing out that you need to look like someone I might be interested in marrying.’

‘Instead of some commoner you dragged off the street?’

‘If you want to put it like that.’

‘How would you put it?’

He sighed, as if bored with her protests and that she had no right to be offended. ‘I move in certain circles. I want people to believe that we’re married and for that you need to look the part. That means no chain store suits or ripped jeans. Now, there’s an entire boutique full of clothes that’s been shipped into your room waiting for you. I’ve given them an outline of what you’ll need. And don’t take too long. The hairdresser arrives in two hours. Dinner’s at nine.’

She stood stock still, hating him more than ever right now. He knew nothing about her or about her life or the choices she’d been forced to make. Sure, it would have been lovely to blow her salary on posh designer clothes, but she’d thought she’d done okay outfitting herself on a budget when her first priority had been ensuring her sister’s needs were met.

‘Yes, sir,’ she said, giving him a mock salute. ‘We can’t have you looking like you’re slumming it.’

His slate-grey eyes gleamed with an icy fury. Was he starting to regret the deal he’d made with her? Because that would almost be amusing. If it hadn’t been for the money she’d be walking away with, that would make two of them.

She stalked into the room that was apparently assigned to her and was met by a gaggle of women and an overdose of perfume. Racks of designer clothes lined the walls. An empty rack sat waiting for what Mari presumed were her purchases. Somewhere under a vast display of shoes in the centre of the room, Mari guessed there was a king-sized bed.

The door snicked shut behind her, while a posh, matronly voice announced, ‘Our client is here, ladies. Let’s get to work.’ And then she looked at Mari. ‘I’m Audra Valentina,’ she said, offering a high school prefect’s smile, ‘from Audra’s of Melbourne. And today is your lucky day. You can get undressed now, my dear.’

‘What?’ Mari looked around. The women looked like they’d come stamped out of the same factory from wherever Audra had been fashioned. Stick thin, highly varnished and all standing to attention, their hands clasped meekly before them. All but one young woman, who was standing to one side looking uncomfortable. ‘What is this?’

The older woman preened. ‘I am your style consultant and I believe we only have a short window of time. But I can only help you if you are prepared to help me. Now,’ she said, her ruby lips narrowing, ‘don’t be shy. Please take off whatever it is that you’re wearing.’

‘I don’t think so. I don’t want this. I don’t need—this circus.’

‘Nonsense. What girl doesn’t want to play dress-ups?’

‘Thiswoman, that’s who.’

‘But Mr—Señor Estefan—’

‘Might like to think he’s Richard Gere playing in a remake ofPretty Woman, but this woman has other ideas. Now, he told me you have a list of what I need. Give it to me and I’ll find the outfits myself.’

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