Chapter 40
ELIZABETH
Ihelped backstage, making myself useful where I could. The controlled chaos of a fashion show was becoming familiar. I thrived on the frantic energy and the last-minute adjustments. I watched the models moving between stations and completely transforming.
One of the models wearing my emerald dress caught my eye and waved me over. Her name was Giulia. She had this effortless beauty that made me feel like a potato in comparison.
“Elizabeth, yes?” she said, her accent thick but charming. “This dress, it is beautiful. You made this?”
“I did. Well, Annika helped, but the design is mine.” I couldn’t keep the pride from my voice.
“It is perfect.” She ran her hands down the fabric. “I feel like a goddess in this.”
“That’s exactly what I was going for,” I said, warmth flooding through me. “Thank you for wearing it.”
“No, thank you for making it.” She smiled at me. “You are very lucky, you know. Adrian Blackwell. He is… how do you say… a dream?”
I felt my cheeks heat. “He’s pretty great.”
“Pretty great?” She laughed. “No, no. He is perfection. Handsome, rich, powerful. And the way he looks at you? It makes me so jealous. I feel I have to hate you.” She pressed her hand to her heart dramatically.
“He looks at you like you are the only woman in the world. Every woman wants a man to look at her like that.”
“Thank you. He is pretty awesome.”
We spent the next few minutes discussing styling. I found myself genuinely enjoying the conversation. The old me would have been intimidated by someone like Giulia. Now I was trading fashion advice with a professional model like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I walked away from her and just kind of mingled. I wanted to soak in as much as possible.
The venue vibrated with energy. Three thousand people packed into an opera house that Dash had transformed into a temple of seduction.
I wasn’t sure if the guys did the actual decorating schemes or if they left it to professionals, but damn, they were good.
It was impossible not to feel the vibes.
I was pretty sure everyone in the room was feeling it.
It was like drinking straight ambrosia. Everything felt heightened.
Every look, smell, and even the casual brushing of shoulders in the crowd.
I felt like I had stepped into the dark side.
And I liked it.
Damn, did I like it.
I loved being a little naughty.
The deep reds and splashes of gold made everything look sinful. Provocative. The simplest gesture, like reaching for a glass of champagne could be evocative.
I was seriously considering grabbing Adrian and dragging him into a dark closet. The man made me want things I had no business wanting in such a public gathering.
I peeked into the crowd and watched the audience settle into their seats. Celebrities, fashion editors, influencers, buyers from every major department store in the world were all in attendance.
And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, three dresses I’d designed were about to be judged.
What if they hated them? What if they assumed the dresses were only in the show because I was engaged to Adrian?
Which, I supposed, was exactly why I was in the show. Not because I was engaged to Adrian, but because I was sleeping with him. Was it pity? Was it him feeling guilty because he was sleeping with me and planned on dumping me the second our contract was up?
Oh shit.
I never considered this might be him trying to make me feel better because he knew what was coming.
Oh god.
I let myself believe he might actually be falling for me.
“Breathe,” Annika murmured beside me. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe.”
I hadn’t even seen her coming. I’d been so caught up in my panic attack I nearly blacked out.
“I’m breathing.” But I forced myself to take a deeper breath anyway. “This is really happening.”
“This is really happening.” She squeezed my arm. “And it’s going to be incredible.”
“Elizabeth!” I looked up to see Adrian waving me over.
“Go,” Annika said. “Watch your big debut from the best seats in the house.”
The lights dimmed. Music started, something with a slow, silky rhythm that caressed the senses. Little pulses of bass tickled across the skin. Every note lingered on the skin like fingertips.
Hot damn. I needed a fan. I was either going to overheat or climax.
Or both.
“You okay?” Adrian asked. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m good.”
He took my hand and gently guided me out to our reserved sitting. I recognized several faces. I nearly tripped over my own foot when I saw a real-life princess.
We sat down, Adrian keeping my hand in his, resting on his thigh.
It was such a natural position I didn’t even think twice about it.
His thumb rubbed little circles over the back of my hand.
He didn’t have to say it, but I understood what he wasn’t saying.
The man knew how to settle me without saying a word. He knew me so well.
And I didn’t even want to think what that meant.
Dash’s voice came over the sound system, welcoming everyone to Seduction.
The music was still pumping through speakers around the room. The soft murmuring from the crowd quieted a few seconds later. The first model appeared and I was awestruck.
It was so different to see a look on a rack compared to seeing it on a model. And the models Dash had hired were absolutely stunning. They had that exotic look that was sexy and alluring. Bodies that were made for second glances.
The crowd gasped and broke out in a series of soft whispers of approval. I looked over and caught Adrian watching the models but there wasn’t the lustful expression on his face that I saw on the other men in the audience. He was looking at the beautiful women with a clinical expression.
I loved that. I loved that he looked at me like I was a million times more desirable than these women that fit society’s standards of sexy.
Model after model came out, each piece more daring than the last. Tight leather. Transparent lace. Cutouts in places I didn’t know you could put cutouts. This was Dash’s vision of seduction—bold, unapologetic, pushing every boundary.
Then male models started appearing.
“Wait, what?” I turned to Adrian. “There are men in this show?”
“Dash wanted something for everyone.” He said it like it was totally normal. “Equal opportunity objectification.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
How had I missed them? I saw some of them, but I assumed they were the boyfriends of the models. I just assumed beautiful women would have beautiful boyfriends.
I didn’t have the good manners Adrian did. My mouth was hanging open.
The male models were as sculpted as Greek statues, wearing pieces that somehow made expensive fabric look like it was barely there.
The women in the audience were as enthusiastic as the men had been.
The temperature in the opera house seemed to rise ten degrees.
Horny men were as common as sunshine in July.
But horny women were a totally different vibe.
I could feel the sexual tension in the air. It was like being inside a pile of dry tinder.
It felt like we were thirty seconds away from the whole thing devolving into a Roman orgy. The energy was electric, dangerous, and intoxicating.
I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs and squeezing my thighs together. Damn. I was so ready to get back to the villa. I wanted to strip and purr up against Adrian.
Good god. I was so turned on. My panties were soaked. I turned to glance over at Adrian, and he actually looked very uncomfortable. There was no way he couldn’t feel the vibe in the room.
One after another, the men sauntered down the runway. Adrian dropped my hand and slid his over my thigh. Without looking at me, he squeezed and then slid his hand to my knee. Once again, the hand started to move up but this time the hem of my gown rose with it.
My breath hitched. His fingertips scraped along the inside of my thigh.
He wouldn’t, right?
We were in public. The people on the runway would see. I licked my lips, and when I looked left, then right, I realized we were not the only ones getting a little hands-on.
Then the music shifted. Softened. The lighting changed from hot reds to something more romantic. Soft gold and amber that made it feel like we were in front of a fire.
It toned down the heat but didn’t necessarily turn down the vibe.
It was the transition.
My dresses were next.
The first model emerged wearing the emerald dress. It was sexy but sophisticated, seductive but elegant. It wasn’t quite the level of Dash’s seduction designs, but there was a little sexiness.
I held my breath and watched. I tried to gauge the reactions from the audience, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the model. The crowd responded positively. There was a round of applause and some appreciative murmurs. I could see people leaning forward to get a better look.
“It’s working,” I whispered to Adrian.
“Of course it’s working. It’s beautiful.”
The second dress came out. I held my breath and waited for the reaction. The model turned at the end of the runway, showing off the construction. I heard audible gasps from the audience.
Better than positive. They loved it.
The third dress was the star of the show. Granted, there were only three options, but it was definitely the best. It brought the crowd to their feet.
I was walking on air. Floating. This was everything I had dreamed of. It was everything I had worked toward. Validation that I could do this, and I belonged in this world.
The model reached the end of the runway, executed her turn, and started walking back.
The screens flanking the runway went black.
Here it comes. My logo. My moment.
The screens lit up.
DESIGNED BY ADRIAN BLACKWELL
The words were huge, elegant, impossible to miss. My logo, the heart-shaped EL we’d designed together, was nowhere to be seen.
Just his name. His credit. His moment.
My heart stopped. Then broke. Then kept breaking as the lights and music transitioned again. It went back to Dash’s bedroom collection. His line of sexy sleepwear.
“No,” I breathed. “No, that’s not right. Wait. I don’t understand.”
My head whipped around and looked up at Adrian.
I had a hundred questions and about a million things I wanted to say.
But none of them would come out. I simply stared at him.
And then I knew I had to get away from him.