Chapter 1 #7
I stop, whipping around to face him. “Because I’m not here for your amusement.”
He shifts his weight, tucking his hands in his pockets, that infuriating grin still firmly in place. “That’s a shame, because you are very amusing.”
“This is funny to you?”
He brushes his thumb over his bottom lip, unable to control his smile. “If you had access to a mirror right now, I think you’d agree.”
I rip the cape off and toss it at his feet, squaring my shoulders. There is nothing I can do about the curlers, but a little fake bravado can go a long way. “There is no point in my staying, since clearly this is all just a game to you.”
“So, you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh? Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly is the problem here?”
“You do this sort of thing all the time, don’t you?”
“What sort of thing are you referring to?”
Gritting my teeth, I spit. “Charming women, dressing them up, making them feel special to get what you want.”
“And what do you think I want?” he asks.
“Sex! What else?” I step forward, stabbing a freshly manicured finger into the center of his chest. “I’ve got news for you, pal. You won’t be getting anything from me. I’m going home.”
“And you’ve come to this conclusion based on what exactly?”
“I’m the third woman you’ve pampered this week!”
“Technically, you are the fifth.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
He smiles and steps closer. “Well, there was the mayor’s wife, the gaming commissioner’s wife, Lawrence’s sister-in-law, Angela, and Rosie, the head housekeeper. It was her thirtieth wedding anniversary, and wanted to do something special.”
The adrenaline fueling my tirade dissipates and suddenly I feel dizzy. I fumble around for the arm of the couch and sink down onto it. “You slept with the Mayor’s wife?”
He snorts. “Of course not.”
“Then what the hell do you do with them?”
“Exactly what has been done for you, minus a few more personal touches, of course.”
Pressing my fingers to my temples, I complain, “My head hurts.”
I focus on breathing, no longer paying attention to him, until the tips of his shoes appear in my limited eyeline.
He raises my chin to meet my eyes. “I have arranged for other woman to take advantage of our salon services and will continue to do so at my discretion. It’s a perk I offer to important guests and employees as a thank you.
I’ve never slept with any of these women.
I’ve never wanted any of these women. The only woman I want is you. ”
“A perk?” I swallow.
He nods.
I blink unsure of what to say, having misjudged the entire situation spectacularly.
“Do you have any other concerns I can clear up for you?” I don’t speak, just shake my head in stunned silence. “Good. Then if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to finish so I can give you my full undivided attention this evening.”
He bends, retrieving my discarded cape from the floor and hands it to me, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on my cheek, before showing me the door.
The rest of the afternoon is spent stewing in my own stupidity. Trust isn’t something I’m particularly good at and given my current situation it makes sense for me to be wary of Roman’s intentions. But I may have overreacted just a tad. Still, my point was made. I am not a woman to be trifled with.
The bell rings at precisely seven o’clock, and I freeze, staring at the wooden barrier as if it could come crashing down at any moment. I’ve been pacing the floor in anticipation of his arrival, while trying not to gnaw clean through my freshly manicured nails.
The bell sounds again and this time I take a deep breath, smooth down my dress, and answer the door. He looks—wealthy, handsome, and distinguished. Okay, I’ll be honest, frankly I’m surprised my panties haven’t caught fire due to how incredible he looks in a burgundy tuxedo jacket and black tie.
His eyes trace a path down my body, admiring the way the white silk hugs the curve of my hips. The train is a little excessive but manageable, and the finishing touch is a pair of black silk gloves for a touch of drama.
“You look…” His words trail off as he takes me in again.
“Thank you.” I step back, making a show of looking him over, while he adjusts his cufflinks, and squares his shoulders. “You’ll do. Shall we?”
He growls a low deep rumbling sound, then slips an arm around my waist, tugging me tight against him.
I gasp, my hands landing on his chest. He leans in and for half a second, I think he is going to kiss me again, but he takes a detour instead and dips his head, tracing the outline of my jaw with the tip of his nose.
Every nerve in my body stands up and takes notice.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispers against my skin.
“Where’s the fun in that?” I quip.
“Marry me?” he asks again. He’s crazy, but I have to admit it’s mildly charming.
I step out of his hold and swat him playfully with my clutch. “Nice try.”
His smile is blinding. “You seem to be softening to the idea.”
I wrap a white fox stole around my shoulders and head to the door. “Not in the least.”
He chuckles, closing the door behind us.
Dinner is incredible, course after course of the most delicious French food I’ve ever had.
The company isn’t bad either. Then it’s dancing at the Flamingo, and the late show at the Sands, where he introduced me to the Chairman of the board: Frank Sinatra.
To be honest everything after Frank shook my hand is a bit of blur.
In the early morning hours, we retire to a cozy booth in the lounge at The Beacon. Despite the late hour, people still mill about at the casino, or nurse cocktails at the bar. I, however, am doing everything in my power to keep myself in check.
“Tell me your dream?”
I nearly choke on my old fashion. “My what?”
“Your dream,” he repeats. “If you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?”
I stare dumbfounded, as he watches me with interest, sipping his scotch while waiting patiently for an answer.
“You’re serious?”
He chuckles. “Yes, I’m serious. I want to know.”
I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Not sure if I should trust him, so I play dumb. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.”
He grins. “Nice try. Tell me.”
Worrying my bottom lip, I evade his eyes.
Roman reaches for my hand, brushing his thumb across my knuckles.
All night, he’s found little ways to touch me.
All perfectly innocent, but incredibly sexy.
Brushing his finger across my shoulder, placing a hand at the small of my back, pressing a kiss to the palm of my hand.
It’s sweet and so goddamn confusing. He is respectful, maddeningly so, still, I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life.
“Tell me, beautiful.” He slides a little closer, his hand tracing the edge of my jaw. “When you picture your future, what does it look like?”
“Fashion,” I sigh.
He raises an eyebrow. “Fashion? Like a boutique?”
I can’t help the smile that splits my face, because he didn’t ask if I want to be a model or indulge myself in haute couture, like so many before him. He didn’t make assumptions or dismiss my interests as frivolous.
“Maybe to start,” I tell him. “What I really want is to design. I want to see my clothes on the runways in Paris and Milan. I want to see starlets draped in my gowns at the Oscars. I want to be in every woman’s closet across the world.”
He smiles and sits back. “She dreams big,” he says with a touch of admiration.
“Can you handle it?” I flirt.
“We could make it happen.”
I lean into him, running the tip of my finger along the lapel of his jacket. The whiskey and his words are doing a bang-up job of lowering my inhibitions. “There you go, trying to buy me again.”
He places his hand over mine, trapping it to his chest. “Not buy. Invest.”
My eyebrows disappear into my hairline. “Invest?” He nods. “But that’s ridiculous. You’ve never seen my sketches or heard a business plan. For all you know, I could just be some talentless hack believing she’s the next Coco Chanel”
He smirks. “But you’re not a talentless hack, are you?
” I look away, but he soldiers on “You are a smart, tenacious, incredible woman with impeccable taste and style. You know how to wear clothes with confidence and grace. I have no doubt that given the chance you could become an icon in your own right. I don’t need to see sketches or a business plan to know you’ll be a sensational success. I would bet everything I have on it.”
My lip curls in disgust, as tears fill my eyes.
He can’t possibly be serious. Who talks like that to someone they’ve just met.
He, for all intents and purposes, purchased my company and held me captive in a luxury hotel, catering to my every want or need.
Okay, so I know that last part sounds like it should be good, but when you add in the whole ‘against my will’ part, things get a little gray.
Despite all that, he’s offering me everything I’ve ever dreamed of because he believes in me.
Now, there are all these unexpected and frankly unwanted feelings bubbling to the surface and I’m not exactly sure how to deal with it all.
“Say the word,” he whispers.
His smile is victorious which snaps me right back to reality. I blink, turning away from him. “Um, should we get another drink?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and when I turn back to meet his eyes, he holds my gaze and smiles. “Sure, one more round.”
With the drinks ordered, I turn the tables on him. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Ask me anything.”
“Anything?”
“Well, you can ask—” He takes a sip of his drink and winks, “—but that doesn’t mean I have to answer.”
I giggle. I fucking giggle! Less that thirty-six hours with this man has me blushing like a schoolgirl. I should be disgusted with myself, but at this point, I’m pretty much goo on the inside. “What if I go easy on you?” I ask.
“I didn’t think you were capable of taking it easy on me.”
I shrug. “Not usually.”