Chapter 43 – Amanda
This is such a waste of time!
I wanted to scream. My father was after me, and we were out shopping.
And Vincenzo brought me to a boutique. He’d reasoned that I didn’t have a proper wardrobe. Damn him, he had a point.
It was an outrageous luxury, but I paid a team in the Big Apple to curate my wardrobe. They delivered new pieces, did all the shopping, handled the alterations, and it saved me hours that I invested in my career.
I hadn’t stepped foot in a boutique in…years.
Probably since college with my sorority sisters after a boozy brunch.
Yet Vincenzo was making this a priority. Fuming, I followed him into the store.
The sales associate hurried over with a wide grin on her face. “Welcome to La Lamere! I’m sorry, but we’re closed right now.”
“We have an appointment.” Vincenzo shot a cautious gaze around the boutique. This was the monster, always assessing for a threat. It was kind of a surprise he didn’t venture to the corners to sweep the space with a gun drawn after the morning we’d had.
“Ah, Mr. Messina, yes,” the woman beamed. “We’ve been expecting you! Welcome. I’m Annette. Anything you need, I’m here to help.
I didn’t miss the way her gaze slid down Vincenzo’s body. I stepped closer to him, and some madness possessed me because I laid a hand on his arm.
Yes, we’d been touching all morning.
But this? This was different.
Vincenzo felt it, too. He stiffened, dropping his gaze to my hand. There was no missing the flash of hunger in his gaze. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand back, feeling feral at the connection.
“The store has been closed for your private appointment, just as you requested,” the associate explained, ignoring our silent exchange.
I arched a brow at Vincenzo, who gave me a small shrug as if to say what. I shook my head. He was unbelievable.
“This won’t take long,” I muttered.
Turning to face me, Vincenzo dropped a possessive kiss on my forehead.
“Relax.” Vincenzo ran his knuckles down my spine. “This is supposed to be fun.”
Fun…such a foreign word.
“We need everything,” the mobster commanded the giddy little associate. “Pull your whole team. This customer takes priority.”
“Enzo,” I hissed.
“Everything?” The woman’s eyes widened.
“Do you have a problem with your hearing?” Vincenzo gritted.
With a sharp gasp, the associate jerked straight. “Not at all! Come, madame.”
I glared at the monster, but he let the attendants lead me away, while he went to the crushed velvet armchair in the middle of the room. The last glimpse of him, before I was taken into the back partition, was of a king on a throne.
At their instructions, I kicked off my shoes and stepped onto the raised dais. A wiry man came and took my measurements. Already, three attendants brought stacks of clothing.
Keeping with my standard of a capsule wardrobe, I selected three blouses, two slacks, and one suit jacket. “That’s all I need.”
My statement was met with horror.
The wiry man pressed a hand on his chest, breath fluttering, and his face grew pale. “Madame! Monsieur Messina instructed us to select everything.”
I adjusted the waistband of the slacks, which sat high on my belly and draped to the floor. “I don’t need much.”
I plucked my shoes off the dais and hopped into them as I emerged into the main area. Vincenzo looked up from his phone, eyes narrowing at me.
“Done.” I flashed a smile. “I just have to pay, and then we can leave.”
Tipping his head to the side, he looked around me. “Was there a problem with the service?”
I frowned. “No. Everyone was pleasant.” Except for Annette.
She was on my shit list for fluttering around Vincenzo. I’d heard her offering him drinks, trying to chat with him about the sports teams.
“Did you not find anything to your liking?” Vincenzo leaned back, clasping his hands over his abs.
“I don’t need a lot,” I protested. “I’m just going to get these, and we’ll go.”
“Hmm…that’s different,” he muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” I snapped. “Enzo, we don’t have time for this. There is a whole mess waiting for us outside those doors, and I don’t want to spend any more of our precious time here. We’re done.”
“No, we’re not.” Vincenzo rose from his seat. He went to a display, plucked a pair of shoes, and came to me. They were white, satin-wrapped, with an open toe. Dainty pearls decorated the material.
“The Amanda I remember could shop all day.” Vincenzo dropped to a knee, lifted my bare foot, and slid the shoe onto it.
A perfect fit.
“She wanted the silly, outrageous outfits.” He drew my hand forward and placed it on his shoulder for balance. “Vibrant colors. Impractical designs.”
The other shoe went on like a dream. My toes wriggled on instinct.
Looking up, Vincenzo studied me.
I’m not that silly girl. I learned the hard way what it took to build myself up.
Building a name for myself meant letting go of frivolous things.
Important people were more apt to take me seriously when I wore a plain, unimaginative power suit.
My accomplishments stood on their own merit without the distraction of a crazy wardrobe.
“Fine, we can get the shoes,” I muttered. They were darling, but I had no idea where I’d wear them.
Vincenzo rose, slipped an arm over my shoulder, and guided me to a dress on a mannequin. His touch was gentle. Protective. I didn’t want to dwell on how nice it felt. We’d touched more this morning than we had in any of the passionate collisions. These small points of contact messed with my head.
“Is this for sale?” he barked at the associate hovering on the edge of the room.
“Oui, monsieur,” the wiry man gulped.
With a nod, Vincenzo snatched the mannequin off its pedestal.
“Enzo!” I gasped.
He tugged the zipper down the back and peeled the garment off. “Go. Put this on.”
I planted my hands on my hips, an argument brewing.
Vincenzo crossed his arms over his chest. “Either start cooperating, or I’m going to torch this place.”
I blanched. He wouldn’t. Would he?
His volume was low enough that I was probably the only one who’d heard. Still….
“The cops will take you away for destruction of property,” I hissed under my breath.
An emotion flashed through his eyes. It was gone before I could name it. With a nod, he said gruffly, “A damn waste of time, I agree. Now…go.”
Grumbling loud enough for him to hear, I marched back to the dressing area. I tugged the new blouse over my head, tossing it behind me before I moved around the partition.
I felt his gaze scorch my back.
I didn’t expect him to follow. I did it only to taunt him.
Should have known better.
After I slipped out of the slacks, as I struggled with the dress’s zipper, shifting and shimmying my shoulders, heavy hands fell on my hips. Vincenzo yanked me back into his solid mass. The air left my lungs in a whoosh, and my gaze snapped up to meet his in the mirror.
“Sunshine was always your color,” he rasped, words shards. As rough as his touch.
The yellow material seemed to turn to liquid against my skin.
“I have nowhere to wear this,” I countered, giving the skirt a tweak to keep from reaching for him.
Vincenzo’s fingers slid between us. “You wear it for me, but more importantly, you wear it for you.” His touch skated up my spine. “Wear it to the grocery store for eggs and spinach for all I care. Just wear it because it suits you.”
It did. Good lord, it did.
My skin might be a shade paler than I liked, but the lightness of my hair and the flash of my eyes complemented the dress.
The funniest thing was that I didn’t feel less powerful.
Sure, this wasn’t the costume of the business world.
But queens of the night didn’t bend and scrape to men in suits. They ruled from the shadows.
This could be me. A new version. Tossed from the towers of commerce and industry to thrive in the underworld.
That was what Vincenzo was tempting me with. And hell, I was desperate for it.
I would just have to place my trust in him.
Can I really do that?
I gulped and lowered my eyes.
Lifting my hand, Vincenzo twirled me slowly. “Bellissima.”
The note of praise warmed me.
Lowering my hand, he stepped back and climbed down the dais. “We need more clothes.”
At his bark of command, the associates jumped to attention. Half a dozen people crowded him with garments in their arms. He crossed his arms, jaw set hard, and nodded in approval to most, dismissing others.
“Any males, out,” he snapped.
Those associates scattered.
“It’s their job to dress customers, Enzo,” I teased, but kept my tone serious.
“I catch any man watching you change, and I’ll carve his eyes out with a spoon.”
I fumbled with the zipper, shooting him an amused look. Oh, shit. He’s serious. “Where are you going to get a spoon?”
I expected him to pull one out of his pocket, but he only frowned at me.
“Thought so,” I laughed. “Now, are you going to help me out of this dress or not?”
I was enjoying this. Enjoying it far too much. After the bombs that had dropped on my life, it was the perfect distraction. I liked having this monster’s undivided attention. The urge to leave lessened with the intensity of his focus.
Vincenzo approached. I drank in that scent.
Leather and sin.
He reached around me and pulled the zipper down.
The tips of his fingers grazed the material of the dress, but otherwise, he didn’t touch me.
It was maddening. I was right here, tempted to let him take me.
To make me forget, if even for an hour. When he first began stalking me, we were fire.
It was there. Oh, hell yes, it was still there.
But whereas I was now willingly giving in to the temptation, Vincenzo held back.
The next outfit was a full floral skirt. It was bright, vivacious, and twirly. Crinoline gave it body. It was paired with a fitted cropped tank, with scalloped edges on the hem. The barest strip of skin flashed when I moved.
Vincenzo held his chin as I adjusted the pieces. His thumb rubbed his bottom lip, distracting me.