Page 34 of Tainted By My Enemy Fiancé

He smiles mischievously. "It will be a souvenir from tonight."

“What, are you planning on keeping them?" I ask, feeling embarrassment creeping up my face.

"Maybe." He laughs as he kisses me on the tip of my nose. "Or maybe I'll give them back to you later. Although, before I put them on you, I'll have to undress you again."

Grinning like a rascal, Parker takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, as he leads us down to the lower deck of the sailboat, toward the dinner that awaits us.

I follow him, with a blush blooming on my cheeks, thinking that his proposition doesn't seem like a bad idea.

Chapter nineteen

Parker

Pennyisafewfeet away from me, immersed as only she can be in a discussion with her assistant. They go back and forth about the designs in her collection that will be presented in less than a week, during fashion week.

Watching her is easy, almost like a vice I had discovered that is tempting for me to involve myself in. She hasn't even noticed that I’m watching her every move, so the expression on her face doesn't change.

Instead, the brunette remains seated in one of the chairs in the front row, watching one of her models, who is wearing a dress full of vibrant colors and bold shapes that seems to shift and flow with the model's every move on the runway.

"No, no," Penny is saying as she steps onto the runway with the woman.

The model, who is trying to follow Penny's every direction to the letter, watches her as closely as I do while Penny walks with enviable style down the runway, demonstrating to the model how she needs to move to show off the best details of the dress.

"I want you to turn this way when you get to the end of the platform," Penny says as she demonstrates to the model. "And then pull on the ribbons in your hands. That way, the other part of the dress will be revealed."

The model nods as she takes note of Penny's specifications. I watch as the woman mimics the correct movements, and as she reaches the end of the platform, she pulls the ribbons in her hands, which releases a second layer of white fabric with bold shades of red, black, and orange.

The shape of the dress is completely transformed, giving it the appearance of a butterfly in flight. Immediately, Penny and her assistant applaud.

"It's perfect like that!" Penny praises the model as she gives her a tight hug.

Honestly, I can't help but stare at her as she silently smiles at her own accomplishments. It is amazing how she can transform fabric and allow her imagination to soar like that, not stopping until she has achieved something incredible.

"You’re truly impressive," I say to Penny as I approach her. I watch Sarah help the model shed the dress and arrange it so that it is ready for the fashion show.

Penny's eyes, sparkling with excitement, meet mine as a radiant, light-filled smile spreads across her face. The familiar blush that characterizes her cheeks whenever we see each other creeps up her face, making her look desirable, as she runs her fingers through her dark, wavy hair with ill-concealed nervousness.

"You think so? I wasn't confident at first about this design, but now it's one of my favorites."

"It's a beauty," I tell her, noticing her smile growing wider with my words.

"Thank you. I based my entire spring collection on butterflies and the power of transformation. That's why the designs usually have two or three layers, to represent how the caterpillar transforms through the chrysalis into a butterfly."

"It’s great. I really think you captured that idea perfectly."

As I speak, I notice Penny's expression is changing. She is watching me with much more confidence than before, and she is full of natural playfulness that makes her seem much more relaxed, no longer always on guard.

"I appreciate your part in all this, you know?" Penny says as she hands her assistant a dress with vibrant blue hues and hints of emerald green, which makes the fabric resemble the feathers of a peacock. Sarah grabs the design as she hurries to the next model to help her dress.

"What did I do?" I ask, intrigued.

"You were the one who made me give up on my dreams of being a model," she reminds me, causing a sting in my chest that feels like the ripping of a stitch.

"Really?" I try to dismiss it, remembering perfectly the incident she is talking about.

Penny nods nonchalantly as she stows the butterfly dress in a protective bag.

"You told me I was too short to be a professional model, and that no one would hire me. You kind of tore me apart, but now, I thank you. I love designing, and the focus I've put into my line is acceptance of body diversity. I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I felt self-conscious enough to believe that my height influenced my modeling abilities."

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