Page 73 of Snow Bound

“It makes me nervous,” she admitted.

“Good nervous, or bad?”

She took a second to examine the feeling in her belly. Roller coaster, with a side of butterflies. “I think good.”

“If it helps, you can be as bratty as you want,” he said. “In fact, I insist on it.”

“Well.” Anticipation bubbled in her blood, fizzing like champagne. “Okay, then.”

“I want you to dress. Put on everything that’s in the garment bag, and do a full makeup job. Everything you need should be in there.”

She glanced at the black bag, not a hint of its contents showing, and the butterflies kicked into high gear.

“I need you downstairs, dressed to go, in half an hour. Can you do that?”

“Unless there’s something in that bag that’ll take forever to get into, yes.”

“Good. I’ll meet you in front of the fireplace.”

“Okay.”

He winked and flicked his finger down her nose in a now-familiar gesture, then he was striding out the door.

She turned to eye the garment bag with trepidation, then let out a slow breath. “Well, I wanted a distraction,” she murmured, then unzipped the bag.

Grant pulled out his phone and fired a text off to Michael: ETA five to ten. He’d already checked and double-checked the set up in the basement. The portable heater was running to take the edge off the damp chill, the table was set up with all the instruments he wanted on hand—with a couple more he had no intention of using, but had laid out just for scare. Cuffs, zip ties, knives, and the large hook hanging from the ceiling that he’d installed himself while she was out walking with Henry.

He’d dressed in the tuxedo he’d had delivered with the clothes he’d had Zach buy for Anna. He’d hung it in one of the spare bedrooms, and the wrinkles had mostly shaken out. The classic tux with the single button jacket and black bow tie didn’t get a lot of wear, but it came in handy when he had to escort a client to a formal event. It was custom made, barely a year old, and there was a good chance he’d have to replace it when the night was over.

He turned his wrist to check the time. The gold watch was another piece of the costume, as were the cufflinks, the polished shoes, and the expensive cologne he’d splashed on in the downstairs bathroom. He’d shaved, and though he hadn’t been able to figure out how to get a haircut without Anna noticing, he’d managed to tame his unruly hair into a semblance of a sophisticated style.

He’d wanted to set the scene, to make it as realistic as possible for both of them. He’d chosen her clothes just as carefully, and knew they’d add to the fantasy.

If she’d ever get here, that is. He rechecked his watch, noted that she had two minutes left on her allotted thirty. He fought down impatience, reminding himself that he needed a cool head to pull this off. When the click of heels sounded on the stairs, he turned.

“Well, well,” he murmured when she came into view. “You clean up good, sugar.”

“So do you.” Her lips, painted a deep red, curved in pleasure. “You’re wearing a tux.”

He shot his cuffs. “This old thing?”

“You look...wow.” She laid a hand on her chest and mimed a thumping heart. “Very James Bond.”

“Speaking of wow.” He took her hands and spread her arms wide with a little rumble of appreciation. “I knew that color would be amazing on you.”

The dress was the same deep shade of red as the lipstick, and clung to that bombshell body from breast to knee like it was painted on. It sat off her shoulders, narrow little straps that were more decorative than structural wrapping around her upper arms, and the sweetheart neckline dipped low between her breasts, leaving what seemed like acres of cleaving spilling over.

It fell to mid-calf and was so tight it would’ve been impossible to walk in if it hadn’t been for the slit going up one thigh, so high he caught a glimpse of the lace topping her stocking. On her feet were pointy-toed pumps with a mile-high heel and a sexy little ankle strap that sparkled with rhinestones.

He let his gaze wander back up, noted the quiver of her breasts with both pleasure and satisfaction. He smiled into her eyes. “You found everything all right?”

“Yes. Including the plug,” she said, answering his unspoken question, and wiggled her hips.

He laughed. “Good. I like what you did with your hair.”

Pleasure pinkened her cheeks. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s perfect.” The sleek updo bared her neck and shoulders and added to the sophisticated look. He’d imagined her hair down for this, so he could get his hands in it, but this was better. This way, he could mess her up.

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