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‘We agreed I would take care of expenses, si?’
‘Travel costs. Not clothes. I don’t need your charity.’ Or to be told what to wear.
His eyebrows plunged into a dark V. ‘Do not mistake my intent for charity, Helena. Outside of these walls you are my mistress, and tonight many eyes will be upon us. I will not have you fade into the background like an insipid wallflower.’ He walked to the door, paused and glanced back. ‘Enjoy your breakfast. We will leave as soon as you are ready.’
Helena sucked in her breath to hurl a refusal, but he was gone before the words could form on her tongue.
Insipid?
She glared at the closed door, seething for long minutes until a loud, insistent grumble from her stomach dragged her attention back to the pastries. Huffing out a resigned sigh, she picked up a fat cornetto and studied its golden crust. If she couldn’t avoid the excursion, she could at least take her time getting ready.
Slightly mollified by the thought, she slouched against the pillows, bit off a chunk of pastry and chewed very, very slowly.
* * *
‘Not this one.’
Helena dug her heels into the cobbled stones outside yet another exclusive boutique. She eyed the name etched in discreet letters above the door. If the prices in the last three stores had been outrageous—and they had—here they would surely qualify as scandalous.
Leo’s grip on her hand firmed. ‘It is not to your liking, cara?’
For what seemed like the hundredth time that day she let his endearment slide over her, forced a blithe smile and suppressed the inevitable shiver that single, huskily spoken word evoked. Like everything
else, it was all part of their ruse—a ruse he had evidently decided to embrace today with unrestrained relish. Indeed, from the time they’d left his apartment scarcely a moment had passed without him touching her in some way: a hand at her waist, his thigh brushing hers, a random kiss on her mouth or temple.
And when, sitting at a quaint sidewalk café for lunch, he’d wiped a dash of cream from the corner of her mouth and sucked it off his thumb, her body had damn near dissolved into a puddle of liquid heat.
Worse—he knew. Knew that every touch, every lazy, lingering look from his hooded eyes, was making her quiver and burn.
She kept her voice low. ‘It looks too expensive.’
His lips curved into the same tolerant smile he’d worn for much of the day, fuelling her suspicion that this exercise was less about buying a gown and more about some underlying battle of wills.
‘I will decide what is too expensive.’ He tugged her forward. ‘Come.’
Inside, the routine was much the same as it had been at the other boutiques, only here the saleswoman was twice as elegant, the gowns four times more exquisite, and the proffered beverage not espresso or latte or tea, but sparkling wine served in tall, silver-rimmed flutes.
Helena pasted on a smile, as determined now as when they’d started out to find nothing she liked.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said to the tireless saleswoman four gowns later. ‘It’s just not my style.’
‘Ah, pity...’ The woman smiled, too professional to exhibit more than a glimmer of disappointment. ‘The blue is perfect with your eyes.’
Helena carefully peeled away the layers of beaded chiffon and offered up an apologetic smile. ‘It’s beautiful, really, but the detailing is too fussy for me. I’d prefer something...plainer.’
A male cough, loud and lacking any kind of subtlety, came from beyond the mirrored screen.
Helena ground her teeth, then raised her voice. ‘But nothing in black, please.’
Undeterred, the saleswoman tapped a red fingernail to her lips, then set off with a look of renewed focus.
As soon as she’d gone Helena pulled a silk robe over her bra and knickers, yanked the sash into a knot and stepped out from behind the screen. ‘This is ridiculous.’
Leo sat—or rather, lounged—in a blue and gold brocade chair in the private sitting room, a half-consumed glass of champagne at his elbow, his long legs stretched out over a plush velvet rug.
He didn’t bother glancing up from his phone. ‘Scusi?’
She scored her palms with the tips of her nails. ‘Don’t scusi me. You heard me perfectly well. This is pointless.’
