To Sin with the Tycoon

‘You’re treading on thin ice here, Alice. I could suggest that you buy something dressy...colourful. Or else I could just tell you to—’

‘I apologise if you think I’m being ungrateful or rude, Gabriel, but I resent being told what I can and can’t wear!’ But when she thought about entering a room full of elegant French people who were dressed to kill, in one of her suits or her very simple black dress, she knew that he had a point.

She just hated the way he felt free to tell her with no regard for her feelings at all. She resented the way he felt that he didn’t even have to make a pretence of trying to be diplomatic.

‘It is what it is.’ But for once he was annoyed with himself for doing what he always did, for speaking his mind without window dressing what he had to say.

‘Fine!’

She glowered at him and Gabriel was sorely tempted to tell her that there wasn’t a woman on the face of the earth who wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to go out and have a shopping spree at his expense. Yet she had that ‘just swallowed a lemon’ look on her face as though he had somehow humiliated her in public. Hell, he was trying to spare her from being humiliated in public! People were shallow and one of the first things he had learnt in his climb up that swaying ladder was that they judged according to what they saw; forget all that claptrap about what was underneath. Dress and act like a king, and they would treat you like one.

Yet he was further annoyed when he felt another wave of guilt wash over him. She had been insulted, even though what he had said had been perfectly true.

He wasn’t about to apologise even if she stood there glowering until kingdom come. He pointedly looked at his watch and told her that she should get her skates on if she intended to get through some shopping, then he recommended a couple of districts where designer shops lined the streets. He even told her she could take the limo

‘And what time shall I meet you?’ Alice could barely get the words out. She hadn’t sat down, but had remained standing, and her legs were unsteady with sheer anger.

‘The do kicks off at eight. Meet me in the bar here at seven-thirty. We can have a drink first and then get there around eight-thirty.’

Because, she sniped to herself, the great man could arrive late if he wanted. Forget about currying favour with the person whose company you wanted to buy! Currying favour was something only lesser mortals did! Gabriel Cabrera didn’t feel he had to do that, so he didn’t.

‘And will we be doing any work before we leave?’ she asked with wooden politeness.

‘It’s Saturday. I think I can spare you.’

‘Fine.’ She galvanised her legs into action and walked towards the door. She would have a shower, unpack some of her drab grey clothes to wear out and then she would hit the shops and spend that money he had made no bones about telling her she should spend—so that she could get herself up to scratch and blend in! ‘I’ll see you in the bar at seven-thirty. Perhaps you could let me know if there’s a change of plan.’

She let herself out of the room without a backward glance. She had over-reacted, she knew that, but she had just lost her cool at the sheer arrogance and superiority of the man.

She showered quickly, barely paying any attention to the stunning bedroom she had been allocated, which was a mirror reflection of his, then out she went.

He wanted his drab secretary to do something about her appearance so that he didn’t flinch when he looked at her?

Well, she would make sure she did her very best to do as he had asked!

CHAPTER FIVE

ALICE HAD NEVER, ever had anything that could possibly be called an unlimited budget when it came to buying clothes. Or buying anything, for that matter.

Growing up, her father’s job had been good enough. He’d been a middle-management man who had paid the bills, given his wife just enough to get by and spent the remainder on pleasing himself. Holidays had just not happened. Or maybe they had, in the early days before she had come along, and perhaps when she had been a baby, too young to remember them. Maybe they had happened when her parents had been a happily married statistic instead of two opponents fighting their private cold war.

Pocket money for clothes had been thin on the ground. Her mother had passed her some, whatever was left from the housekeeping money at the end of the month, but Alice had never known what it was like to spend cash on things that weren’t strictly necessary.

So it took her a little while to get her head round the fact that that was exactly what she had now been ordered to do.

She had brought a little pocket guide-book with her and, instead of rushing instantly to the shops, she took the limo to the Champs-Elysées, which was hardly necessary, considering how close their hotel was to it.