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Marcie sighs. “The way he looks at you, like you’re his world. Lucky you.”

She isn’t really appropriate at all, but I have a feeling that happens a lot where Kace is concerned. I just focus my energy on the twenty or so dresses she’s brought me to try on and look appropriate for tonight. I immediately gravitate toward a long wine-colored silk gown with a right slit, V-neck and a cute crisscross and tie at the back. I try it on, and for once, something I adore on the hanger fits as well as I want it to fit. I’m sold and after picking out a cute glittery purse and shoes, I send goo-goo-eyed Marcie on her way, pull on a robe, and head outside to share the news with Kace.

I’m just about to step around the corner and onto the balcony when I hear him say, “I know, but she is not just anyone. I’m not doing that. I’m keeping her with me. No. Hell no.”

I’m almost certain he’s talking about me and I back away, deciding that as much as I want to know the context of that call, I cannot eavesdrop. There’s no way to ask him about the call without letting him know I did, even if it wasn’t intentional. And he has to perform. My gut says to leave this alone, at least for now.

I hurry away to the bathroom, and for reasons I can’t explain, that call I overheard made me need to hear from my brother. I check my messages and of course, there is nothing. I try his number and it goes to voicemail. Frustration rips through me. I have to go home and hire that PI, which means I need money. In other words, I either have to work with Alexander or get Ed the client he’s trying to squash to meet his offer, but that all has to wait until Monday.

For now, I promised myself this weekend with Kace. I hurry to the shower, and step in, enjoying the warm water in some length. I’m out, wrapped in a robe, my hair fully dried, when Kace walks in. In a blink, I’m in his arms, and he’s kissing me. “I’m glad you’re here, Aria.” His voice is gravelly, affected.

My heart swells with the impact of his words and actions. “Me, too,” I whisper.

He eases back and gives me a once over. “Why are you wearing the hotel robe? You don’t like the silk robe that was in the shopping bags?”

“It’s three hundred dollars, Kace. That’s insanity.”

He catches the knot on the hotel robe. “Wear the robe and enjoy it. I sure will if you ever let me see it.” He softens his voice. “Please, Aria.”

“Please? I didn’t know you knew that word.”

“I prefer it when you say it, and would suggest ways to use it while naked, but yes. Please wear the robe.”

My lips curve. “Since you said please. Okay. Tomorrow. I’m about to get dressed now.”

“You’re happy with your dress?”

“I love it.” I motion behind him to where it hangs. He twists around to look at it and then me. “It’s beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to see it on you.” He rotates and leans on the counter, taking me with him. “One thing I need to tell you about tonight. There’s an after-party which I normally skip, but its Marvin’s birthday and it might be the last one he has with this group. My team rented out a club in the warehouse party district here in downtown Austin.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Ah well—they can be, but they get a little wild.”

My hand slides over his thick stubble. “You look a little wild. You need a shave.”

He runs his hand over his jaw and glances in the mirror. “So I do.” He grabs his overnight kit and pulls out his razor.

“I’ll do it for you,” I offer, and his hand settles on my hip.

“Will you now?”

“If you trust me.”

“I do trust you, Aria.” He catches my waist and lifts me to the sink. “Have you done this before?”

“Oh well. I plead the fifth.”

He laughs a low, rough sexy laugh. “I’ve never let anyone shave me either, so you’ll be the first. The first in so many ways, Aria.”

“The first woman to be trusted with a sharp object. I feel pressure. Let’s hope I don’t cut you now.”

We both laugh and I can almost feel the bond growing between us. And the good news is that I do not, in fact, cut him. I don’t hurt him in any way. I just pray he does me the same favor.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

With his reluctant agreement, I shut Kace out of the bathroom while I finish dressing, wanting to show him the dress once I’m perfectly primped. When I’ve achieved that goal, I nervously open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom. Kace is sitting in a chair, looking like the hottest king of the world ever, with a whiskey glass in his hand. The glass immediately goes on the table and he stands, and God, the man really is gorgeous. Tonight, his longish dark hair is finger spiked, and his rock star image is on full display. He’s in black jeans and a T-shirt paired with biker boots, all of which he’s accented with a black leather jacket. I’ve officially forgotten pretty much everything including my name.

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