Page 11 of His Personal Stripper

Pulling back a little, he saw the shock on her face and smiled. “Why do you think I’m so strong? You don’t even know me.”

Jack left her side, grabbing the shirt that lay on its hanger. Helping her into the shirt, he began to button it up. “You lost your job a year ago. You’re a foster kid who knows how the system works. If no one believes you, you get pushed aside, ignored, and passed on like old news. You’re not a woman who’s easily broken, Rachel. You’re a fighter.”

He saw the tears that sprang into her eyes, and he gripped the back of her neck before taking her lips once again. Jack couldn’t stand to see her cry, nor did he want to. The need to take care of her burned inside, consuming him no matter what he did.

“Will they whisper about you at social functions? Yes. Will they want to make you feel small? Yes. The only power they will ever have over you is the power you give them. No one else. Remember that.”

She licked her lips, and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

“I won’t take any other woman. You’re mine now, Rachel. Walking away is never going to happen.”

She was dressed, and she hadn’t spoken. “You make me sound like a badass.”

“I think you are, and in my world, all I care about is what I think.”

“Is that what I should care about? What you think?”

He smiled. “It is my world you live in, but I was thinking that in your world, you know what you’ve done, you know what you’ve been through. Screw anyone else that would think differently.”

****

Being the richest man in the world didn’t mean much as Jack still had to work. Rachel stared at her reflection and released another breath that she’d been holding. Over the past couple of days, she realized that she adored Jack more than anything else. He made her laugh and feel so comfortable within her skin. She loved his personality. He was a little domineering at times, but he was a man used to getting what he wanted, and she could respect that.

Staring at her reflection, she saw the red gown that Jack picked out for her, which made her heart race. It plunged in the front, and she couldn’t wear a bra because people would see. There wasn’t much to the back either.

His personal stylist had already stopped by to do her hair and makeup. They were going to a charity event, and he always made an effort to attend. He told her he would offer a donation, enjoy the food, and leave.

“You look stunning,” Jack said, startling her. He leaned against the doorframe. She always saw him in a business suit, but that was nothing compared to a tux. She’d never really understood the difference until now.

She gave a little turn. The heels she wore were killing her feet, but she didn’t say anything. All of her life she’d handled uncomfortable situations. When she’d been in one of the foster homes she’d promised herself she’d avoid moments like this, where she was uncomfortable or made to feel less than what she was, but it seemed her life was just going to be one long fuck-up.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“You’re going to be fine. Wallace has the car brought around.”

He took her hand, helping her downstairs, and within no time at all they were in the car and arriving at their destination.

Jack climbed out of the car first, and even as her legs were like jelly, she kept on moving. In her mind she was counting, hoping that she’d be able to get through this. Jack placed her hand over the bend of his arm, and she took it while trying to appear as if she was meant to be here.

The moment they entered the large gathering, she noticed several women turned their way. Their gazes were hungry as they stared at Jack and glared at her.

If looks could kill, she’d be dead already.

One step at a time.

They stopped, and Jack introduced her to a man she’d never remember, but she remained polite, offering her hand before they left.

A waiter stopped by, and Jack took two long-stemmed glasses of champagne. He handed her one, and she took a sip, not liking the stuff. She didn’t let it show though.

“The men want you,” he said.

“Is that what you wanted? To display what you’d bought?” she asked. There was no judgment. She merely stated a fact. The only reason she stood here was because she’d been desperate. When they were together she could pretend they were alone. Right now, that was near impossible. She couldn’t even think of what to say to these people.

Their judgments were clear to see.

“Jack, darling, it’s so good to see you.” A woman came to them, pulling Jack in for a hug and a kiss.

Rachel watched as his jaw clenched, and she hid her smile in another sip of the rancid champagne. She didn’t drink, so the quality of the stuff was lost on her.

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