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The housekeeper came forward, smiling as she took the baby from Lola’s arms. “Have a nice evening, Mrs. Cabrera.”
“But—where are we going?”
“Go to our bedroom,” Rodrigo said, his dark eyes burning through her.
“Now?”
“Right now.”
Going down the hall to the palatial master bedroom, Lola dropped her shopping bag in shock when she saw a famous personal stylist waiting for her, with two makeup and hair stylists.
“Hello.” The personal stylist, who dressed movie stars for worldwide events, gave Lola a cheeky smile. “I’m here for you, my dear. To make you even more impossibly beautiful than you already are.” He motioned toward a rack of ball gowns and brand-new designer shoes. “Choose your favorite. They’re all in your size.” He held up a sleek, well-used sewing kit and double-sided tape. “I can make any gown fit.”
Thirty minutes later, Lola felt so ridiculously like a princess, she was sure even Johanna would approve. Looking in the full-length mirror, Lola hardly recognized herself.
Her long, highlighted blond hair was sleek and perfect, falling nearly to her waist. Her strapless pink chiffon gown fit her perfectly, showing off her curves. Black kohl and fake eyelashes lined her eyes, making the hazel color pop dramatically,
and her lips were pink.
Standing in the sparkling six-inch designer heels, Lola breathed, “I don’t even need jewelry.”
The stylist gave her a wicked grin. “You sparkle enough on your own.”
“I feel like Cinderella,” she said.
“You look like her, too.” He tilted his head. “You married the most powerful man in showbiz, girl. This city, this world, is yours to command.”
Lola felt like she was in a dream as she walked back down the hall in the strapless pink chiffon gown. Even the six-inch heels felt fantastic on her feet, as if she were floating on air. She’d never had a problem with designer heels making her feet hurt. They were too beautiful—too expensive—to hurt.
But what were they doing tonight?
Lola looked down at the glamorous pink gown. Obviously, not going Christmas tree shopping.
When she returned to the great room, the housekeeper and Jett were gone. Rodrigo stood alone amid the roses.
His eyes widened when he saw her.
“Querida,” he whispered. “You take my breath away.”
“Thanks.” Coming forward shyly, she reached up to straighten his black tie. “You don’t clean up so badly yourself.”
“I bought you some Christmas decorations.”
“Mistletoe?” she guessed.
“I should have thought of that. But no.” Pulling a black, flat velvet box from his tuxedo jacket pocket, he held it out. Lola sucked in her breath when she saw a magnificent diamond necklace, sparkling in the twilight, amid all the sweet-scented roses.
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Hold up your hair,” he said huskily.
She did as he commanded. Dropping the black velvet box on an antique side table, he placed the diamonds around her neck, attaching the clasp behind her.
The necklace felt cold and heavy against Lola’s skin. But the feather-light brush of his fingertips as he hooked the clasp sent a flash of fire through her body.
“There.” Turning her to face him, he stroked her cheek, tilting her head upward. “Now you are ready.”
Lola looked up at him, her heart thudding in her chest. I love you, Rodrigo. The words lifted to her throat. Her lips parted—
