Page 57 of The Charmer's Gambit
“Okay to having a normal day?” he asked, clarifying.
I nodded. “Yes, as normal as it can be.”
His dimples flashed for the first time since he entered my room. “Oh, I fully take that as a challenge, darlin’. I promise you won’t be thinking of any man except me by the end of the day.”
Only Will would find a way to turn this situation into something bordering on amusement. I almost smiled, but I wasn’t quite there yet. The fact that I was so close, however, told me he would have no problem fulfilling his promise. Still, I couldn’t let him win that easily. “So cocky.”
“Confident,” he corrected. “Now, how about you come over to my suite to shower and change while I talk to a few ofmyfriends.” He stressed the wordmyso I knew what that meant.Ryan isn’t the only one with contacts.
He pushed to his feet and held out a hand to help me up. I went without hesitating.
Trust, he had said the other night. I hadn’t understood what he meant, but I did now. He knew all along that I was hiding something, that I was on the verge of opening up—but withdrawing—and now all my barriers were down. No more fighting, no more hiding. It was time to live again. Freely.
22
Fashion Show
I studied the dress in the mirror and frowned. Will was right about shopping being a good distraction. I walked out and narrowed my eyes at his relaxed form on the couch. Because yeah, apparently, this designer boutique he’d dragged me into had a formal waiting area for wealthy men.
“No.” I had to say it on principle. The dress was lovely; it clung to my curves in a subtle way that still made it business appropriate, and the blue popped against my skin. It even hit at my knees, making it a respectable length. But it was in no way worth the price tag.
He looked me over with keen interest. “Oh, yes.”
“Tell me again why this is better than my skirt suit.”
“Because it’s French.”
“Still not following that logic.”
“Fashion and appearance are a staple in France, and even more so in business.” At my raised eyebrow, he continued. “The French associates dress with status and success, which means we need to show up in style. Hence . . .” He waved a hand at my dress.
I pursed my lips. “Surely there are less expensive stores.”
“Of course, but in France, you buy the best you can afford.”
Aha! “Well, I can’t afford this.” Too bad, so sad. I started to turn, when his retort froze me in place.
“Perhaps, but I can, and you’re directly associated with me as my legal counsel. We’re buying the dress and the two you tried on before it.”
Damn it. I’d loved those, too, but I kept putting them back because of the cost.
“We’ll need shoes as well, and lingerie, of course. Assuming you want more stockings?” Even without looking at him, I knew he was eyeing the ones on my legs.
“And what are you shopping for?” He had yet to try anything on or search for his own clothes. We spent the morning at a café near the Eiffel Tower, then took a long walk around it for sightseeing before we meandered this way to what he referred to as the hottest shopping area in all of Paris. What he really meant was “most expensive.” Though, the clothes were lovely.
“Are you eager for me to model some things for you?” he teased.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Actually, yes. I am.” If he wanted to distract me from the Ryan situation, he should model for me naked. No way would I be able to think of anything else with all his muscular perfection on display.
Challenge lit his eyes. “I’ll model for you if you model for me.”
Did I say the naked thing out loud, or did he just read that from my eyes? “But I am modeling for you.” I gestured innocently to my dress in an attempt to weigh his reaction.
“Lingerie,” was his single-word reply. My cheeks heated.
“That’s hardly a fair trade.”
He arched that arrogant brow of his. “You didn’t ask what I would be modeling in return, gorgeous.”
