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Sleeping wasn’t something Risa had managed much of that night, which left her crankier than normal the next morning. Cranky, angry, and hurt.
She couldn’t believe he was that desperate to get rid of her. And if he was that desperate, why was he sleeping in the middle of her bed and touching her all night long?
She was greeted when she awoke to another replay of the newscaster going over the wreck and attempted kidnapping that had occurred, as well as phone calls from various news agencies. It seemed everyone was interested in Risa Clay again. Six years of anonymity shot to hell. Once again her face was plastered on the television screen.
To make matters worse, they were supposed to go out. Dinner and dancing, he had informed her over breakfast. Oh yeah, she was all up for dinner and dancing.
It was no surprise when a courier from one of the more expensive boutiques arrived that day with more new clothes, and Risa felt her temper rising that much further.
“You’re staying, then you have to play the part,” Micah informed her as she glared at the dresses, skirts, and tops laid out on her bed. “Trust me, Orion and his employer have run my background. They know the information we put out there for them to find. If you want his employer pushing him, then you’ll play the part. The faster we finish this, the faster you can get on with your life.”
He stared at her with that calculating look in his eye that he had held all morning. As though he were figuring out a puzzle, working the pieces and trying to make them fit.
She wasn’t a puzzle.
“If they researched you, then they researched me,” she told him between clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t wear clothes like this.”
“You wore clothes exactly like this the first night I met you,” he pointed out, and Risa felt her blood pressure rising. At this rate, she was going to end up having a stroke. “But if you can’t wear them.” He shrugged philosophically as he eyed her with a mocking look in his eyes. “I’m sure we can make allowances.”
As though she were too scared to wear them.
She stared down at the dresses. Maybe she was just frankly terrified of wearing them. Clothes like that made a woman feel daring; they made her feel as though she could conquer mountains. And Risa knew she wasn’t quite up to mountains yet. She couldn’t even conquer Micah.
The dresses were short; the skirts were short. The tops were sexy and the shoes were high-heeled and daring. She was going to so get in trouble wearing those clothes. Clothes she had once been terrified of. But not now. Not now because she knew she could wear them. She had worn the dress the other night, and the shoes. It wasn’t the clothes that caused her to swallow tightly. It was the man and the look in his eyes as he glanced from the clothes to her.
“I don’t need you to make allowances for anything.” Damn her pride. “If you can stand to pay for it, then I can wear it.”
His brow arched. “Don’t let your mouth write checks your body can’t cash, sweetheart. Because trust me, I know exactly how to dress a woman for prime impact.”
Her smile was tight. “You don’t scare me, Micah,” she scoffed. He terrified a part of her. Another part was ready and rearing to challenge him.
She was tired of being manipulated. She was sick of being worked. He wanted to use her and walk away later, fine and dandy, because she wasn’t above using the security he offered her to gain a little self-confidence, somewhere. Maybe.
His smile curled a little wider, that luscious bottom lip tempting her even as the smile pissed her off.
“I should scare you.” He leaned closer, those lips within inches of hers now. “Because what those clothes will do to that luscious body of yours will make me hard, Risa. Hard and hungry. If you take the kid gloves off and decide to tempt the tiger, baby, then expect to have a bite taken out of that lovely hide of yours.”
“By you?” She sniffed as though in doubt when inside she was shaking. “I’m sure you can handle the pressure.”
She doubted she blipped on his radar any more than it took to make him hard. Some men any woman could arouse. Maybe Micah was one of those men.
She picked up the closest outfit and just barely managed not to cringe. At least she liked the color. The chocolate brown silk would complement her coloring; the short length would compliment her legs. The matching shoes, high-heeled of course, were gorgeous. The scalloped bodice would be lucky to cover her breasts, and the thin straps didn’t look strong enough to hold it up.
Micah’s brows lifted at her choice. “I especially liked that one when I chose it from the website,” he murmured. “Daring, Risa. Very daring.”
With that, he turned and walked from the room, the door closing behind him as Risa let out a hard breath and looked at the dress again.
Oh, she was in so much trouble here. This dress was so outside the realm of anything she would have chosen to wear. Dreamed of wearing, yes. That fantasy Risa who was daring and unafraid would have worn it in a New York minute.
But the other Risa, the one who had learned to be cautious all her life, was shaking in her jeans and bare feet. That Risa was certain lightning was going to strike and turn her to ash for wearing such a dress.
In for a penny, in for a pound. She laid the dress aside before going through the other choices. Short skirts and a few corsets to wear over shimmering thin long-sleeved blouses. There were snug blouses, a few more daring dresses. There were shoes to match everything. And she was in so much trouble.
“We’ll be meeting at a small dance club in town with Ian and Kira. We’ll have dinner at the attached restaurant and then drinks in the club,” Micah informed her as she stepped out of the bedroom after putting the clothes away. “We’ll be leaving here about seven.”
“Are Kira and Ian part of this agency you’re involved with?” she asked then. “The federal attorney said you were a private agency. What kind?”
He looked up at her from where he sat on the couch, his laptop opened and resting on the coffee table.
