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The bright light of the elevator highlights sparks of red in her auburn hair and I probably shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing her in what I purchased.
“You just have dresses laying around?”
“I had my assistant buy you a gown.”
Her amber eyes are cautious as the elevator door opens and she finally uses those long, golden legs to exit. She doesn’t say anything as I lead her down the hallway to my personal bedroom.
“This way,” I say to her as I open the door.
“I just want to point out, my dress looks just like everyone else’s at parties like these.”
I shut the door behind her and lock it. “We arenoteverybody else.” I walk across the room toward the oversized oak armoire where a white garment bag hangs from the top. “This is what you’ll be wearing.” I slide the zipper down and pull out the flowy red Dior dress that cost a small fortune.
She steps closer. “Ah, it’s beautiful.”
A jab of pride hits my chest at impressing her, but I stifle it down and choke the life out of it as I clear my throat. “You need to make an impression. You’re now an extension of me and everything about you will be critiqued.”
“Can’t wait.” She reaches out to touch the silky fabric. “How do you know it’ll fit?”
I drop the dress on the bed, and turn to face her. She lets out a tiny yelp when I grab her waist with both hands. “Because I can guess your size.”
Her eyes war with mine. “Oh, you’ve been with that many women that you’re an expert on sizes?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Yes.”
She’s right, I have been with my fair share of women, and holding onto her waist shouldn’t have my dick spurring to life, but it does.
I drop my hands. “That’s not the only thing I bought you.” I step over to a white box resting on the dresser and pick it up. “Here.” I walk back over to where Clementine stands in the room. “Look inside.”
She takes the box from me and lifts the lid, her golden eyes widening. “Oh my god.”
“You can’t half-ass it.”
“This is just…” Her eyes are about as big as the round diamond nestled in the box as she stares at it.
“Put it on. Let’s make sure it fits.”
“Is it real?” she asks as she pulls the engagement ring out of its box.
I raise a brow. “Of course it’s real. Now try it on.”
She slides the platinum band on her ring finger and holds her hand out to get a better look. “It’s a perfect fit.”
I smile with pride. “Good.” I cross the room. “There’s more.”
“More gifts?”
“I expect you to be the part one-hundred percent.” I hand her a pink little bag. “Here.”
She peers inside the Guia La Bruna bag and gasps. “You bought me underwear?” She pulls the black-lace bra and panty set from inside.
“Yes,” her look of outrage is undeniably appealing, “I need my wife in the finest things.”
Her eyes narrow. “Well, I’ll have you know my underwear is just fine.”
“Look, I’m not criticizing your clothing…”
She tosses the bag on the bed. “Well, you are.”
