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She doesn’t answer, and I leave the closet, tightening my tie as I walk toward her. Her eyes go wide again. This time, she slowly scans me from head to toe. “Am I underdressed right now? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in a suit.”
I tuck a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “No, you’re fine like that. I just have a certain image, and I tend to keep it up when I’m here, so no one gets the wrong idea.”
She follows me out into the hall to the elevators. “What kind of idea?”
I wink at her. “The idea that it’s safe to be around me. That I won’t split skulls the second someone steps out of line.”
We ride the elevator in silence, and a driver meets us at the curb. It takes no time at all to get to the shop and get her settled on the couch with a hot tea. The owner brings the clothing pieces one by one for us to view. Her eyes stay wide the entire time. She chooses two dresses to try on, and I wait, the owner and her staff leaving the room.
I think she’s about to go into one of the dressing rooms, but instead, she stops on the other side of the coffee table and slips her shoes off her feet.
I sit back on the couch, intent on watching whatever the hell she’s doing. I don’t even care that my cock is pressing uncomfortably into my tailored seam right now.
She wiggles out of her jeans and then dashes her T-shirt off her head in one quick swoop. I can’t help but ask, making sure there’s no humor in my tone so she doesn’t think I’m laughing at her. “What are you doing?”
Once she steps into the dress, all other thoughts of conversation fly out of my head. The champagne silk hugs every one of her curves, giving her an hourglass shape Marilyn Monroe would envy. I swallow, my throat dry.
“Will you zip me up?”
I’m off the couch and at her side in one second flat. I carefully slide the zipper up her back and then step back to watch her spin to face me. “What do you think?”
I stare and stare, and then stare some more. She’s exquisite. I blink, remembering she is waiting for an answer. “You look amazing. Stunning. I’m…”
A faint wash of rose hits her cheeks and what I can see of her chest. “Thank you.” She calls the owner back in, and they do a quick fitting and bring her shoes to match. We leave several hundred dollars poorer, but I don’t even care. I’d buy a hundred dresses if I could watch her shimmy in and out of them over and over. Especially when her breasts shook as she wiggled her hips to get the dress off the curves. Good god, I don’t think I’m ever not going to have an erection around her thinking about it now.
We go back to the apartment, and I lead her to the bathroom to get ready. The shop sold some cosmetics she picked up too, and I can’t wait to see her all dolled up. She hasn’t been since we met, officially at least, and I want to see that sparkle in her eyes.
Somehow, she gets ready faster than I do. Her hair is swept to the side and clipped to stay that way, the dress fits her perfectly, and the shoes make her almost as tall as me.
“So?” She spins.
I swallow hard and head to the dresser in the closet. The top drawer holds a jewelry box containing a special wreath necklace I inherited from my grandmother once upon a time. I slip it around her neck, and the soft sigh she gives me is so worth the effort of waiting at the shop for her to choose this dress.
Once I finish my bow tie and put on my shoes, she gives me a once-over. “You look nice. You should wear tuxedos more often. You make them look good.”
I lean down and kiss her cheek, wishing it was her mouth I’d touched. She stares into my eyes, the tension stretching, until the grandfather clock in the living room chimes. “It’s time,” I whisper. “Are you ready?”
She nods, and I lead her out to the hallway. The guards keep their gazes on their shoes after I give them a shark-like grin. No one touches her. No one so much as looks at her in that dress. No one would be able to look at her and not want her, and I can’t handle that right now.
We head to the car and then across town to the upscale museum that serves as the Chicago council’s headquarters. When we arrive, I realize I underestimated my sister. The entire Chicago society is here, greeting each other, casting both of us contemptuous looks as they saunter into the building.
Inside the event, the society mills around, and I catch the words open season and curse. She could have warned me that society had opened the season here. The dates are similar but sometimes fall off depending on the time zones back home.
“What, what is it?” she whispers.
I catch the scent of lavender and let it calm me. “It’s nothing. My sister just failed to inform me that they’d opened the season already.”
“Is that why she wanted you to turn yourself in so badly, brownie points with her society set?”
I shrug and lead her to the bar for a drink, something we both need to mingle with this crowd.
Once fortified, we face the crowd heading into the main ballroom, and I hold out my arm for her. “Ready?”
She clutches her champaign to her chest and allows me to lead her to the line at the door. The attendant takes everyone’s names, announcing those present for each new person. It doesn’t take long for us to reach the front, and I go first, giving my name to the man. He announces me, which causes a bit of a stir. Rose steps forward and whispers to the man.
He announces her in the same booming voice he used for everyone else. “Rose Barone, only heir to the Barone dynasty, ward of the late Novak dynasty. Now under the protection of the Doubeck family.”
She meets me but stares when I don’t move. “Rose Barone?”
