Page 33 of Taking The Virgin

“Yes, Ido.”

His frank admission makes those knots inside of me throb.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll do thatthen.”

A laden moment passes, one filled with so many unspoken desires—mine, his, both of ours. Then his voice gets businesslike again.

“Since I didn’t expect your agreement to be extended, I want you to buy more gowns, cocktail dresses, pretty clothing. Take a car and driver for a shopping trip, make a day of it. You’ll be keeping everything after our month together, so take advantage.”

He’s giving me all of that, besides the money? I’m floored.

“I would love to do some shopping,” I say. “Thank you, Owen.”

We end our conversation on that note. After both of us say goodbye and disconnect, I put down my phone and turn to my laptop. I close it, knowing what my job is—and it has nothing to do with my own personallife.

I’m going to make Owen happy.

Funny, but even though it’s all business, pleasing him seems to be so much more important after last night.

Once I’m back inside, I do something I’ve been dying to do since I got here—I go to the music room, access a digital station on the sound system, then crank itup.

I dance like a fool to a loud Portugal the Man song until I’m laughing.

Things are working out! Life is awesome!

Nat finds me like that—hopping around, having the greatest of times. She has a cloth in her hand as if plaster from the ceiling is shaking loose and she’ll have to cleanit.

When I smile at her and turn off the music, I merely shrug.

Smiling back, she pushes back a stray hair into her brunette bun and, for a second, I think that she’s about to ask if she can joinme.

Negative onthat.

“Have you decided about dinner?” sheasks.

“Yup. You might’ve heard that Owen’s going to dine in with me tonight.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Then she raises her eyebrows. “Owen is it? My. He normally has his girls refer to him in a more formal manner.” She laughs. “Then again, he’s never had one here for more than a shorttime.”

As if she’s overstepped, she straightens her dress, but there’s a small smile ghosting her lips. Is it because Owen seems…well, maybe not happy with me, but at least content for the time being?

“Now,” she says, “what is it you’d like tonight?”

And we go from there. I suggest fish, knowing that he’ll appreciate something lean. Then I ask for a dessert along the lines of chocolate mousse, if it’s even possible to make that healthy.

“We’ll see what Chef Thomas can come up with,” Nat says. “He loves putting his own fitness-conscious twist on the meals. It’s a challenge for him, especially with something like chocolate mousse.”

After that, all that’s left for me to do is find that velvet dress and make myself into the fantasy Owen is expecting to come hometo.

* * *

I pampermyself thoroughly with a bath, then slather myself with a soft aloe lotion. I slip on the lovely, long gown for Owen, then sit down at my vanity table and apply just enough makeup so that I won’t look as if I’m trying toohard.

Then I peer at myself in the tall, standalone mirror in the bathroom.

The burgundy-colored velvet dress has a slit that travels up my leg, and the black ankle-strap heels I’ve put on make that leg seem as long and shapely as a starlet’s. I leave my hair loose, and it kisses my bare shoulders, teasing the gown’s thin straps.

I’m somewhere in between a sinner and a girl with her heart in her eyes, but I think that’s accurate. That’s what Owen has already turned meinto.

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