Page 103 of Pretend To Be Mine

From the Eiffel Tower, we walked to the Arc de Triomphe. Elizabeth insisted she wanted to experience Paris on foot. She wanted to see the streets and the people and feel the city. I indulged her, even though my feet were protesting the walking and my phone kept buzzing with messages I ignored.

Today was for her. Everything else could wait.

We strolled down the Champs-Élysées. Elizabeth kept stopping to look in windows, exclaiming over displays and fashion that caught her eye.

“Come on,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her into a boutique I knew. “Let’s get you something.”

“Adrian, I don’t need anything.”

“I want to get you something. Consider it part of your compensation package.” I was already flagging down a sales associate. “Besides, you need more than the few outfits Annika picked out. You’re attending fashion events. You should have options.”

What followed was an hour of Elizabeth trying on pieces while I sat in the comfortable chair they provided for long-suffering companions and gave my opinion on each look. She was hesitant at first, worried about prices, but I waved away her concerns.

“Elizabeth, I’m a billionaire. Let me spend money on you.”

“That’s such a billionaire thing to say.”

“Nevertheless.” I gestured at a dress she’d been eyeing. “Try that one.”

She did, emerging from the dressing room in a silk wrap dress that made my mouth go dry. Simple, elegant, with a neckline that hinted without revealing.

My hands had been on those breasts just hours earlier.

“Perfect,” I said. “We’re getting it.”

“Adrian.”

“And those shoes. And that jacket. Don’t argue.”

By the time we left, loaded down with bags from three different stores, Elizabeth was laughing and protesting in equal measure. The shadow her mother had cast that morning seemed to have lifted.

That had been the point. To remind her that she deserved beautiful things. Even if I couldn’t find the words to tell her yet.

We stopped at a café for coffee and pastries, sitting outside despite the November chill because Elizabeth wanted the full Parisian experience.

“Thank you for this,” she said softly, her hand finding mine across the table. “You didn’t have to spend the whole day playing tour guide.”

“I wanted to. Needed to, maybe.” I squeezed her hand. “I wanted to remind you of what you’re worth.”

“By buying me expensive clothes?”

“By showing you a perfect day. The clothes are just a bonus.” I brought her hand to my lips. “You deserve perfect days, Elizabeth.”

We made it back to the hotel as evening approached, both pleasantly exhausted from walking all over Paris. Elizabeth immediately noticed the garment bag hanging in the closet.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She unzipped it carefully, revealing a dress I’d had Annika set aside back when this was still just an arrangement. It was a deep burgundy, elegant and romantic, perfect for Elizabeth’s coloring.

“Adrian, it’s beautiful.”

“There’s more.” I pointed to a jewelry box on the dresser. “Those too.”

She opened it to find earrings, not the ones Annika had originally selected, but ones I’d chosen myself yesterday in London. Art deco pieces with garnets and diamonds that would complement the dress perfectly.

“You picked these out?”