Page 69 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“Even if that person is off limits to your wants?”
I felt her hand tighten in mine. “Christian...”
“I know. It was posed as a question, but it was more rhetorical than anything.”
She was quiet for the rest of the drive.
At the private terminal, our plane waited on the tarmac, sleek, efficient, and ready to carry us back to reality. The pilot greeted us professionally, the stewardess showed us to our seats, and within minutes we were taxiing toward the runway.
As Tuscany fell away below us, I watched Naomi stare out the window until the Italian countryside disappeared into clouds.
“Goodbye, Tuscany,” she whispered.
“Not goodbye. Just see you later.”
She nodded, settling back in her seat as the plane climbed toward cruising altitude. I had hopes that our time together would help us grow beyond our boundaries, but I also had to be prepared if that wasn’t the case.
I closed my eyes and tried to hold onto the memory of her laughing in the forest, covered in dirt and completely happy. Whatever happened next, I had that. We both did, and it might have to be enough.
Chapter
Fourteen
NAOMI
The raspberry rosesilk shined off the light as I lifted it from the rack, holding it against my body in the three-way mirror at Saks. The dress was stunning, off-the-shoulder with a fitted bodice that would hug every curve before flowing into an elegant train. It was exquisite for the Children’s Hospital benefit. And would make me look divine on Nathan’s arm as he tried to impress donors.
I tried to stay focus on that train of thought but my mind continued drive back the fact that I had spent the last three days falling deeper in love with another man entirely.
“That color is divine on you,” the sales associate gushed, appearing beside me. He had to say that. He was working on commission, but still, he was right.
“It brings out the richness in your skin tone.”
I nodded, turning sideways to study the fit. The dress would shine in photos. Nathan would be pleased. The other wives and girlfriends at the gala would hate me in the best possible way.
So why did I feel indifferent looking at my reflection? Especially when Christian’s hands would be unzipping this dress at the end of the night.
I knew what it was, however. I wanted Christian’s eyes watching me get ready and standing beside me, proud to have me on his arm.
But Christian wouldn’t be there. Nathan would. And I’d play the role I’d perfected over the years—sophisticated, charming, just attentive enough to make my date look desirable without being so captivating that I upstaged him.
“Would you like to try it on?” the sales associate asked.
“Please.”
In the fitting room, I slipped out of my jeans and sweater, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My body still conveyed traces of Italy. My melanin was a bit darker from our truffle hunting adventure. There was a small scratch on my forearm from when I’d climbed that tree escaping the wild boar. It was evidence of the most perfect weekend of my life.
“Stop it, Naomi. That weekend is over,” I murmured.
The dress slid over my hips easy, the silk cool against my heated skin. I reached behind to zip it, but my fingers struggled with the hidden closure. For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined Christian’s hands there instead, warm and caressing, taking his time.
“Is everything okay in there?” the associate asked.
“I’m okay,” I said, getting the zipper up.
The dress fit like it had been tailored for me. The raspberry rose complemented my dark skin, and the cut emphasized my waist while the skirt flowed down my legs. I looked elegant.
It was what Nathan Bullard was paying for.
