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"And Daniel's right over--" Matt waved his hand like a snake charmer. "--there."
The fifth Maverick was making his way toward them, a plate of appetizers in his hand. Running a conglomerate of home improvement stores and producing his own do-it-yourself TV show, Daniel was dressed for the part as always, in khaki pants and a camel-colored jacket with leather patches on the elbows, his hair overly long. Sebastian wondered if he would manage to unearth a tux for Will and Harper's winter wedding in Chicago, or if he'd just show up grinning in a plaid work shirt and boots. Truth was, none of the Mavericks would care if he did. Each of them wanted only happiness and a good life for the others.
In addition to taking over the world together, of course.
"Harper." Holding her hand, Daniel kissed her cheek. She was one of them now, a Maverick, as was Jeremy. "You're as lovely as a Tahoe sunrise." Daniel was building a cabin up at Lake Tahoe, so he clearly had the big blue lake on the brain. He was also right that Harper, with all the love shining out of her, was just as beautiful.
Then Daniel was looking past them all, up the stairs. "Holy hell. Will you look at that vision coming down the stairs."
As everyone turned, Sebastian suddenly couldn't breathe...and his heart all but shut down in his chest. Tonight, the woman he'd fallen head over heels for wasn't Charlie the strong, pretty tomboy. She was Charlotte.
But no, he realized, as his heart--and brain--slowly stuttered back into action. She was both Charlie and Charlotte. Radiant and alluring. Intelligent and creative. Brilliant and beautiful.
And he'd never wanted any woman more.
"She's coming over to us," Matt said, his voice sounding very far away.
All Sebastian could see or hear or feel was Charlie as she descended the stairs with elegance and style. She'd piled her hair on top of her head, a few locks falling carelessly free, brushing her shoulders. Gold drop earrings dangled from her lobes, glittering in the light of all the chandeliers.
"Her dress," Harper said. "It's stunning."
As far as Sebastian was concerned, stunning barely scratched the surface. The corset-style top fitted her like the fingers of a tight glove, the thin straps holding it up nothing more than decoration. A teardrop necklace nestled seductively in her cleavage. The strip of bare midriff below the top dried up his mouth. The waist cinched and the skirt flared over her hips, then fell in graceful, swishing folds to her calves, the scalloped hem longer in the back than the front. Even her ankles in the strappy high-heeled sandals were perfection.
"Is that--" someone, maybe Harper, started to ask.
Sebastian could only nod, unable to do more than stare in awe at the woman who had stolen his heart.
The outfit she'd chosen was as striking as anything she'd tried on in the designer shop, even the pearl dress, as much as he'd loved her in it. But it wasn't the outfit that stunned her audience.
It was all Charlie.
The lobby had fallen into complete silence. No one had ever seen anything like her. In the span of sixty glorious seconds, Charlie Ballard had completely transcended the surgically enhanced society mob. To top it all, every single thing about her was real, inside and out.
He'd cherished her beauty all along, beneath the jeans and the T-shirts and the glorious never-seen-a-salon hair, but now he realized there were more sides to her than he could have imagined. Everyone had different facets, some they kept locked away. Sebastian had those hidden features too, like the part of him that needed to draw. He'd never been brave enough to let any but his closest friends see his sketches, but tonight Charlie was bravely letting all her hidden qualities and talents shine.
He was dying to show her off, to drink in the sweet seductive sound of her voice, to learn everything he could about her. He couldn't wait to get his hands on her, to touch her, inhale her scent, kiss her.
And--finally--make her completely his.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Charlie had spent way too much time on her hair, but she wasn't used to the curling iron, let alone piling the mass of hair on top of her head. She'd had to watch several YouTube how-to videos to figure it out. But the time and effort had been more than worth it for the look on Sebastian's face as she walked down the stairs.
She felt gloriously happy--every cell in her body yearning for Sebastian. At least, until she realized that the lobby had gone silent and absolutely everyone was staring at her. The pounding of her heart spiked higher as she gripped the rail and froze in place for a few moments.
Oh God, what was I thinking, trying to pull this off?
Feeling more than a little desperate, she looked back at Sebastian again. And suddenly everything was right. The admiration and pleasure in his eyes told her in no uncertain terms that she actually had pulled it off. As she'd fussed with her hair, her makeup, and her dress, she'd decided not only to play the siren for one night, but also to enjoy it. Now, with Sebastian's gaze fortifying her and giving her the strength she'd momentarily lost in the face of this huge crowd, it was time to make good on that decision. No matter how difficult she found it to be at the center of all those assessing, judging gazes.
She was going to have fun, damn it! Even if it killed her.
As she descended the final step, Sebastian drew her against him. His murmured, "You take my breath away," sent shivers through her body. She wished she could wear this dress only for him, and that he would sweep her away to their penthouse suite before she had to deal with the throng, all of them staring avidly.
At least she was lucky enough to meet his closest friends first. Sebastian had given Charlie the lowdown on the Mavericks during the drive over. Still, there were an awful lot of names and faces to keep straight. It didn't help that his strong, protective hand was caressing the bare flesh of her back below the corset, making it difficult to focus on anything but the urge to drag him back upstairs and let him strip off her dress the way they both so desperately wanted.
Okay, Charlie, focus, she told herself with the first introduction.
Daniel Spencer, owner of the Top-Notch DIY chain of home improvement stores, was a dark-haired Tahoe mountain guy. He shook her hand, his grip warm and
