Page 128 of The Romeo Arrangement

Not that he’d throw me out on the street or anything—though maybe that’d be easier—rather, he has to turn me loose soon.

“Need some help, darlin’? Here.” He crosses the room, and I try not to tremble when I feel his hands on my back.

He zips me up, the one thing I hadn’t done yet. His chiseled face behind me completes the look, like I’ve morphed into someone else.

If only it was that easy.

I put my hair up using the gold filigree barrette clasp Bebe sent with the dresses. It leaves a few loose waves around my face. The high-end makeup does its job, too.

Glancing at myself in the mirror as I step into the black heels, another special delivery, I’m surprised by the image staring back at me.

It’s me, obviously, but the reflection is a woman who’s actually pretty. Sophisticated. Halfway worthy of a man like Ridge Barnet.

Amazing what an outfit worth more than any vehicle I’ve ever owned can do for a girl.

“You know, you haven’t looked at me once,” he whispers, tucking his chin against my shoulder, pushing soft, warm breath to my throat. “What’s the matter, Grace? Figured out how fucking knockout sexy you are and now this boy isn’t good enough? Look at me, darlin’.”

Slowly, tenderly, and yes, seductively, he turns me around to face him.

He’s wearing the tux. The same one Tobin resumed fussing over as soon as he could walk again, and oh my God.

Pure electric desire rushes through my system, threatening to short-circuit every inch of me.

My body heats like fire at the points where his hands linger on my waist.

“Holy hell,” I whisper. “You look—”

“Fuckable? I hope that’s the next word you planned on coming out of your mouth.” His grin makes it hard to stay conscious. “Because I’m all healed up from my dustup, and later, Miss Sellers…I’d love to pick up right where we left off.”

There’s no doubt whatsoever what he means.

Not with his finger grazing down my back, tracing my spine, languidly running across my ass.

“Almost forgot. I also have this for you,” he says, breathing into my ear while this small shiny thread materializes from nowhere.

A necklace. And he does the honors, draping it over my neck.

Glancing down, I see a string of pearls. Very expensive ones.

“The pearls belonged to my mom a long time ago. She never wore them since she was young,” he whispers. “Beautiful things deserve to be seen on beautiful people, not locked up in a box. And, Grace, tonight you’re fucking dynamite.”

“Oh, Ridge. I can’t. This was hers..it’s too special,” I say, stunned that he’s giving me the honor.

“Exactly. Was hers. Now it’s yours.” He kisses my shoulder before twisting me around, showing off my look of shock in the mirror. “It’s too perfect with that dress. Don’t make me drag Tobin in here for a second opinion.”

I smile, knowing I should protest, but it’s only one night.

So I nod and step away, moving to the closet to grab this stylish white velour cape. “Is everyone else ready?”

“They’re waiting on us,” he says, taking the cape. He drapes it over my shoulders and ties the silk strings under my chin. “As much as I’d love to linger and unwrap you right damn now, best not to keep the people waiting.”

I want to loop my arms around him, kiss him like mad, but I resist the urge.

If there was ever a time to start weaning myself off him, it’s now.

Ridge and I take his dually pickup, while Tobin, using a cane I’d found in the antiques a few weeks ago, rides with Dad and Jackie in her car. It’s easier for him to get in and out.

“No reason to be nervous,” Ridge says as we’re driving along the highway. “You’re about to shock and awe everybody in the room. I don’t care how rich they are or how many film credits they’ve got.”

I pinch my lips together, continuing to look out the side window. “There’s also no reason to keep up this game, Ridge. Clay’s in jail. Dad and I are safe. We can go anytime.”

“Sure you can. Once the trial’s over and your Ford gets repaired.”

Oh, Jesus.

The truck. It’s probably totaled.

Jess had it towed to town along with the new truck Tobin was in when they ran him off the road. With everything else going on the past week, it totally skipped my mind.

“Where do you think you’ll end up? Back in Wisconsin? I’m sure a judge would give you the farm back.”

I shrug. “It’s up to Dad. Mostly.”

“Don’t you have a say?”

It hardly matters. The only thing I know is I’m going to need time to heal from all of this.

“I’m sure we’ll discuss it at some point,” I say glumly.

“Just as long as you’re happy wherever you end up,” he says, a sharpness in his eyes. “Whether that’s Wisconsin or Wyoming or right here in little Dallas.”

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