Chapter 5
She only had an hour to get ready and had to hurry and select something suitable to wear.
She had been out with him twice already, but to restaurants where the lights had been low.
And they had been given a private booth, which meant that not a lot of people had seen them.
Tonight they would be going to a gala in a fancy, well-lit hotel ballroom where hundreds of people from his society would be there to pass judgment on her.
No one other than her friend, his mother, and lawyers knew the true state of their marriage, and she was certain people were wondering what on earth had possessed him to marry her.
So, she was going to look spectacular tonight.
After frantically searching through the huge closet, she finally decided on a glittering emerald-green dress.
She had tried it on one night while she was exploring the closet and simply loved the way it fit her curves.
Romano's was horribly expensive, but there was a reason for that.
They designed clothes for the ultimate woman, and no two styles were ever alike.
Wishing she had time for a long, leisurely soak in her tub, she compensated by using the lovely, scented roses and cream body gel in her bath.
And she would have to do her own makeup. She had taken a crash course from the stylist, someone her mother-in-law had sent over to take care of her when she was going out for the first time with Brant.
Glancing at the time, she hurriedly used the curler to attend to her hair.
And then she went about doing her makeup.
With only fifteen minutes to spare, she dashed into the closet after applying scented cream and one of the expensive perfumes that had been delivered with the rest of her stuff.
Stepping into the dress, she worked the long sleeves over her arms and adjusted the swirling chiffon skirt.
Adding the hammered gold belt around her waist, she stood in front of the full-length mirror and stared at the result.
Her face glowed from the foundation she had rubbed into her skin. The eyeshadow, an exact shade of her skin tone, made her eyes appear even larger. The lipstick, a blend of ruby and orange, highlighted the fullness of her lips.
Her eyes caught the front of the dress and had her wondering if the cut was too daring.
There was a built-in bra in the bosom, which was a good thing, because half of her breasts were exposed and she wouldn't have been able to wear a bra anyway.
The material clung to her curves from bosom to waist, where it flared out and drifted around her to the ankles.
Her hair, the tight coil of locks, cascaded in twists and curls past her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the black strappy sandals and prayed earnestly that she would not embarrass herself by falling flat on her face.
She was wearing the necklace he had given her, the diamond nestled cozily between her cleavage. Slipping on the matching diamond earrings, she selected a black cashmere coat and took up a beaded green and black purse.
"Well, here goes nothing," she muttered as she left the room.
At the foot of the stairs, Brant was deciding whether or not to go and knock on her door.
He had taken his shower, gotten dressed, and come downstairs to make some phone calls, and she was still not down yet.
In his vast experience with the opposite sex, it took hours for them to decide what to wear, and when that was done, it took even longer for them to slap on makeup and all the other necessary things they needed to face the outside world.
He turned toward the stairs with the intention of reminding her of the time when he stopped short, the breath strangled somewhere deep inside his throat.
She was floating down the stairs, one hand sliding along the banister, and she stopped his breath.
The dress swirled around her in a cloud of chiffon, and he could smell her exotic perfume from where he was standing.
He was aware that he was staring, but it was as if his eyes were glued to the vision coming toward him. When she smiled, dimples peeking out, teeth white against the glossiness of her lips, he managed to clear the blockage from his throat.
"What do you think?" She stood in front of him, head tipped up to meet his eyes.
"Think?"
"The dress. Is it too much?"
Dragging his eyes from her lips, he swept a glance over her bosom and felt his loins tightening. Forcing himself to travel the length of her body, he lifted his head to her face and felt the gut punch of lust ramming into him full force.
"Brant?"
"What?" He felt as if he was sleepwalking.
"The dress?"
"What- Oh-" Shaking his head, he tried to compose himself. "It's, er, it's lovely."
She handed him her jacket and hid a smile as she turned so he could help her on with it.
"So, it's not too much?"
He slid the jacket over her shoulders, careful not to touch the bare skin.
"No." He had to clear his throat again. "We're going to be late."
Her scent engulfed him. As soon as he sat behind the wheel after opening her door and closing it behind her, that was what assailed his nostrils. Her scent. He dared not look at her, even though he was dying to.
She was beautiful! Christ! What the hell was he supposed to do? This was just an arrangement. Plain and simple. And he was going to have to stick to it.
"It's so lovely out."
Her cultured voice intruded on his thoughts and forced him to turn his head in her direction.
"Pardon?"
"The snow on the hedges, the clearness of the night, it's all so lovely," she said with a sigh, leaning back against the supple leather of her seat. "This is a different vehicle from the one you drove earlier."
"Yes." His hands tightened on the wheel, and he had to will himself not to reach out to touch her cheek.
"We carry high-end vehicles, top-of-the-line and state-of-the-art.
" He called out a command, and music swelled the interior, causing her eyes to go wide.
"Voice command." He flashed her a grin. "It also drives itself. Want to see?"
"No." She shook her head with a breathless laugh. "I'm not that advanced yet. I don't like the idea of a computer being the driver. I keep watching these movies where the app or whatever goes crazy and takes over the vehicle, leaving the passengers trapped inside and speeding off a cliff."
He slid her a startled look as he called for the music to cease.
"What movie is that?"
She shrugged. "Some horror movie I watched some time ago. Suffice it to say that after that, when I got behind the wheel of my vehicle, it took me a minute to actually start the car. That lasted a week."
"A horror movie, huh? I thought you were mostly into classics."
"Sometimes I deviate. Oh, look!" He almost slammed on the brakes as she rolled her window down.
"You scared the-"
"Brant, look!" Without thinking, she gripped his thigh and sent his blood pressure soaring. "Isn't that too precious? I've never been in this part of town before. Oh, look at the lights! There must be thousands of them, and the decorations are so unique."
He obliged her by stopping at the curb so she could better see the dazzling display. He watched in amusement as she took out her phone, opened her door, and started snapping photos.
"Ready?"
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Even though they had not meant to, they inadvertently created a sensation as soon as they stepped into the crowded ballroom of the Plaza Hotel.
The noise level decreased drastically as people turned to stare at the couple who had just walked in.
Indigo had surrendered her coat at the entrance, causing eyes to be drawn to her lush curves outlined in the dress.
Brant felt the shimmer of irritation slicing through him as half of the male eyes in the room zeroed in on her bosom. He was sorely tempted to shout to them to keep their bloody eyes on their own companions.
Unconsciously, his arm tightened on the hand she had slid through his arm, a proprietary move that was noticed by all who were watching. His expression clearly warned them to stay the hell away. He strode over to the group of friends, including his mother, and made the introductions.
"I say, O'Keefe." A jolly-looking man with heavy jowls took Indigo's hand and brought it to his lips for a lavish kiss. "Where on earth have you been hiding this jewel?"
"I would ask you politely to unhand my wife, Jerrald, before I break your fingers," Brant told him mildly.
"Your wife?" Jerrald peered at him, his jaw dropping. "You finally tied the knot. Well!" He swung his gaze to take in Indigo, eyes dropping to her bosom. "I can see why you scooped her up. If I had seen her first-"
"Oh, give it over, you old coot," another man interrupted with a guffaw. "The young lady is too much woman for you." He stepped forward, light blue eyes twinkling. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Name is Frank Mitchell."
She was introduced to the others and, within minutes, was whisked from one group to the next, her husband keeping a possessive arm around her waist. When he asked her to dance, she was so giddy with excitement that it took everything in her to appear casual.
"You've made quite an impression," he murmured as he guided her around the crowded dance floor.
"I think it's the dress." She lifted laughing mahogany eyes to his and had his heart doing a slow dive.
It was a mistake to have her so close. Her perfume, the feel of her lush curves, and her breasts pressed up against his chest were doing things to his insides.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had been without a woman for a long time.
Several months was a long stretch for him.
"It's not just the dress," he admitted a little gruffly. "You happen to be a beautiful woman."