Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Dani smoothed her hands over the red sequined gown.
In the mirror, the changeroom’s lights caught each fleck, sending sparkling beams around the cubicle.
Too much. She sighed and took a step back.
Brock would probably love this dress. The spaghetti straps looked much too thin to hold her breasts in the swanky material but they did—even somehow accentuated her cleavage.
The gown hugged her waist, hips, and thighs to spill open near her feet.
When she moved, the slit at her thigh revealed her just-shaved legs.
“You must like this one. You’ve been in there ten minutes. Let’s see.” A hint of impatience coated Brock’s voice.
She unlocked the door and stepped out, lifting her hand to her hip. “No I haven’t.” She turned to the mirror, showing him the expanse of her bare back. “I like this one. A lot. But it’s kind of flashy, don’t you think?”
When he didn’t answer she glanced at his reflection. His gaze lingered on her lower back, his mouth slack and his elbows resting on his knees.
Satisfaction pulled at her insides. It had been a long time since she’d been the recipient of genuine male appreciation, and when it came from him . . . Her stomach flip-flopped. “Brock?”
He flicked his gaze to her eyes and snapped his mouth shut. Pushing to his feet, he stopped several inches behind her back. “You look stunning.” He trailed his fingertip down her spine, and she turned around and caught his hand.
“You can’t do that here,” she whispered.
He swiveled to look behind him at the mostly vacant store. “I can think of a lot of things we can do here. But if you’re not down for it, you’d better get out of that dress.”
“That’s one way to get arrested,” she said, cocking her eyebrow. “Think I should get it?” She fished at her side for the price tag, but he stopped her.
“Get it. I don’t care what it costs. We’ll get a lot of use out of it.”
She worked her tongue around the inside of her mouth. While she liked gifts as much as the next woman, she had her own hard-earned money stored in the bank account she couldn’t access.
Brock turned and scooped up his tuxedo bag from the chair he’d vacated. “C’mon. You still need shoes.”
She pushed all thoughts of money out of her head. If it came to it, she’d reimburse him, but he sure as hell wasn’t hard up for cash.
“And a clutch,” she said. Stepping back into the changeroom, she slid off the dress. The slinky material glided down her body with ease.
And tonight, it would do the same thing.
“I’ll have to remember to come here again in the off-season.
” Dani lifted the glass of champagne to her lips.
From the top-level deck of the Eiffel Tower, she stared out at the breathtaking view.
Green grass spread out below the tower, where couples lay on blankets with picnic baskets.
Many took pictures of the Iron Lady. The sun had set, but licks of mauve still colored part of the sky, and old French houses dotted the landscape. Stars began to peek out of the dusk.
Brock stood next to her on the deck. The tuxedo fit him like a glove and the crisp white shirt made the tone of his skin that much richer.
His eyes looked ocean green. She’d always loved how his hazel eyes adjusted to his mood and certain colors of clothes and lighting made the various hues stand out.
“Me too. I’m so glad we did this.”
She sucked back another sip and the bubbles popped on her tongue, exploding in rich flavor. The breeze picked up and swirled over her exposed skin. She shivered and Brock stepped closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“Want my jacket?” The crease between his eyes revealed his concern. He seemed fearful she’d want to cut the night short. Not a chance. It could be blizzarding right now and she wouldn’t leave.
She shook her head, adjusted her new clutch, which hung over her shoulder, and burrowed closer to his side. “This is perfect.”
“Good.” His hand closed over her bicep, branding her skin. “Are you full?”
“Oh my god, I’m so stuffed,” she said with a laugh. She rubbed her distended stomach but didn’t regret a single bite. “That bread was incredible. I’ve never had anything like it.”
“Mmm. Best steak I’ve ever had.”
His thumb churned in circles over her skin. She tilted her head back to stare at his profile. “What are you thinking?”
He brought his glass to his lips and drank then returned it to the bar table nearest him on the deck. They could have taken one of the few open tables, but standing at the railing taking in every inch of the skyline would make it easier to commit the moment to memory.
A vein bulged at his temple and then returned to normal. “I was thinking how fucked up this week started—well, still is, I guess—and how incredible it is to be here right now despite our circumstances.”
A warm smile pulled at her lips. She turned her face toward the dark sky.
No need to show him how happy being with him made her.
Not until she could figure out these emotions.
For god’s sake, this was Brock. Her ex, her rival, the man who’d broken her heart.
He’d done more for her in the last few months than anyone had, aside from Serena.
But what if they tried at a relationship again and failed? That would suck big time.
“We definitely made a great evening out of a horrible situation.” She reached across him and set her empty glass on the table. “Let’s go downstairs. They’re going to light the tower soon. I can’t wait to see it lit.”
His arm secured her to his side. “I’ve got a question for you first.”
She rested her back against the railing and his hands went to the wrought iron at her sides, caging her in.
“What’s that?”
“What would you do differently? If you weren’t”—he lowered his face to hers and darted his gaze around as if someone might overhear—“you know. A thief.”
She caught his jacket in her hands and tilted her head back to stare at him. He watched her carefully, his eyes lit with amusement, but the rigid skin of his jaw told her it was a serious question despite the light manner in which he’d broached it.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
She twisted her mouth and danced her gaze around the bar.
When they’d come up after dinner only a few people had occupied the space.
Now it was bustling, and several people waited near the entrance for a seat.
“I like the idea of becoming an event planner, or maybe an interior designer. I like putting décor together and bringing a space to life.”
He studied her. “Why don’t you work with Serena and Milo? They flip and sell houses. Surely they could use a designer.”
She looked down at her strappy nude high heels and shook her head. “No. That’s their thing. I’d feel . . .”
Brock nudged her until she looked at him.
“Like a third wheel, I guess. I want to do something that doesn’t require depending on anyone else.” The admission ate at her heart and a pit of vulnerability sucked at her insides.
“That’s always a good idea.” He caught her chin when she tried to lower her gaze again. “You’d be good at anything you did.”
“Well, I hope you’re right. I’m done after this.”
He jerked his head back and his fingers fell away.
She curled her lip. “Why is that so surprising?”
He shook off the stunned expression and a smile replaced it. “I’m not surprised. I’m glad. It’s about damn time, actually.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Your turn.”
He blew a breath through his teeth. “Ah, hell. I don’t know.” He scrubbed his hand over his neatly trimmed stubble. “I guess I’d start with doing what I enjoy. Isn’t that what they say is the key to happiness? Doing something that doesn’t seem like work?”
“That’s what they say. So, what would it be?”
A mischievous grin split his face and his eyes twinkled. “Well, we both know I’d make a killing at sex.”
She choked out a laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook. “Please tell me you’re not going to become a male prostitute. What’s that even called? A gigolo?”
He roared and leaned forward to nip her shoulder. “Exactly.” A smug expression crossed his face. “You can’t deny I have a calling.”
“Oh, definitely. But I thought we were talking about honest ways to make a living.”
“Ah. Yeah, I guess selling my body wouldn’t fall in that category. All right, I suppose I’d start a clothing line.”
She tilted her head. A vague memory of him talking about wanting to design fitness wear flashed in her head. “Oh, I think I remember you mentioning fitness apparel before. Would you go that route?”
“I think so. Fitness is one of my passions, and I’ve always dreamed of creating clothes to fit the way I want.”
She beamed. “Well, we don’t have any excuses anymore, do we? It will be interesting to see where we end up after this.”
He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You need to get out. I’m going to hold you to it.” A heaviness settled in his voice.
Talking about it with him was making her mind work. Rather than something to pursue one day, it finally felt like something she could do now. She wriggled her fingers into his hand and led him away from the rail. “Enough serious talk. I want to see the Iron Lady lit up.”
They walked to the elevator at the north pillar and rode to the main level.
Elegantly dressed couples and groups of tourists milled around at the entrance.
Brock stiffened his hold on her arm and led her to the busy grassy area.
She glanced over her shoulder at the glowing yellow tower just as the blinking lights snapped on in a blitz.
She yanked on Brock’s arm. “Look!”
He spun around and pulled her in front of him. “That’s amazing.” His arm slid across her chest and his face dipped so it was next to hers. “It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”
Her cheeks tingled and warmth fired to her toes. She reached above her shoulder and placed her palm on his cheek. He turned to press a kiss to her hand and then nuzzled close to her face.
Crack, crack, crack!
The sharp bursts of fire made her jump. Fear coiled around her spine. “What was that?”
Brock’s chest hardened against her back. She glanced down to see his gun hovering at her hip.
Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack!
Screams filled the night air. She gripped his arm in her fingernails. Her pulse raged against her skin, but she couldn’t tear her feet from the grass. People charged in every direction. Brock clung to her.
“It’s a fucking gun.” His words hit her with such force they chilled her to the core.
She searched the shadows, but every frantic face shook her focus. Then she saw him. A large form with a machine gun across his chest moved in the distance.
“There!” she cried. Brock’s attention shifted to where she pointed, and he whirled her around to face him.
“You need to hide. Get to those trees,” he said, pointing to the ones that lined the grass less than ten feet away. “And stay down. I’ll come for you in a minute.” He shoved her in the direction of the trees, but she planted her feet.
Ice took hold of her breath, making it almost impossible to speak. She shook her head. “No.” She could only mouth the syllable. He couldn’t leave her.
Crack, crack, crack!
More screams penetrated her eardrums and people collapsed on the ground, dark fluid spurting from their bodies. Terror seized her throat, choking off her scream.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rushed her to the safety of the trees.
“Dani, I might be the only one here with a gun. I need to stop him before he slaughters more innocent people.” He shook her shoulders.
“Please, babe. Hide. I need to at least try to get a shot at him. I swear to you, I won’t get close. ”
Tears clouded her vision. He pressed his lips to hers and broke away from her panicked embrace. She stretched out her fingers, still clinging to the tree trunk. The dark lines of his tuxedo disappeared into the waves of screaming people.