Page 76 of BillionHeir
“What charity?”
“A foundation near and dear to my heart.”
She squints at me, clearly noticing my deflection. “I am afraid I don’t have anything to wear,” she says finally, her body stiff in my arms.
“I have sorted that,” I respond, keeping my hold on her despite the fact that she is doing everything she can to emotionally distance herself from me.
“What about my hair and makeup?”
“I have booked those services as well,” I answer confidently. “As well as a massage. But we don’t have to get started until later today. I was hoping you might meet me at Harrods this afternoon for a bit of tea and shopping. Would one be too early?”
“You are kidding, right?” she asks, a stunned look on her face.
“Not unless you want me to be. I have put thought into this day, but one word from you and I will cancel everything.”
I think Chloe can see the honesty in my face. She gives me a hesitant smile and nods. “One should be fine. But I will need to get going soon if you really want to do this.”
“I really want to do this. Please.” I add at the end.
“Okay. Where shall I meet you?”
“I will pick you up.”
* * *
“This is too much,” Chloe says, looking at herself in the mirror. “Really, Maxwell, it is not like we are having dinner with the King or anything.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “I prefer when you call me Max.”
“Max, seriously,” she says, looking at herself in a strapless black dress with a skirt so voluminous that I can’t tell where the material stops and Chloe starts. “I am not a princess.”
“You are in my eyes.”
She rolls her eyes, making me laugh out loud. “Honestly. I don’t need this kind of extravagance.”
“I have never met a woman so uncomfortable with my money before,” I say, rising from the dressing room couch and walking toward her.
“We could just donate the money you would have spent on this dress and order room service. Who would spend this kind of money on a dress to wear one time?”
“Well, most women I think, but that is not the point. This is the way things are done at this type of event. You will appreciate having such a nice dress once we are in the room with all the vultures I have to deal with on a daily basis. Think of this dress as more of a shield of armor than a gown. The better you look, the more comfortable you will feel in a room full of strangers. The King included.”
“You are joking, right? The King really won’t be there, will he?” her eyes search mine. “What charity did you say this is for?”
“I am not sure I did,” I counter. I am a smart man. I have purposely withheld this information out of fear that she will back out once she knows.
“Well, out with it then,” she says, stepping back and looking over at the rack of dresses she has yet to try.
“The King’s Foundation,” I say finally, wincing as I do.
“What?” she asks, her voice oddly shrill. “You are kidding. I can’t go to a charity ball for the King’s Foundation.”
“Why not?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward a very panicked Chloe.
“Why not? Why not?” she asks, her voice even more high pitched than before. “Because the royal family will be there for one.”
“Don’t tell me you have a crush on Harry.”
“Of course I don’t. He is not my type at all. But still, Maxwell. I can’t—”
