Flawless Desire

Inside, I know I can’t afford a single thing in the place—it’s all so beautiful, I’m afraid to touch. But Caleb doesn’t browse. He stalks to a rack, pulls out a bright red, Julia Roberts-in-Pretty Woman dress, and hands it to me. “This is the one.”

The associates guide me to a dressing room. I squeeze into the poured-on, off-the-shoulder gown, and sigh at my reflection in the mirror.

Some wise woman once said Caleb’s taste was exquisite, and she’s right. The cut of the dress accentuates my curves, and the color brings out the rich tones in my brown hair. I look like a different person. I’m not wallflower Juliet Nichols. I’m me, just… More.

More confident. More elegant.

And sexy as hell.

The associates give me a pair of delicate strappy heels that are just my size. Still, when I step out of the dressing room, I feel a flicker of nerves. I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I can’t see it for miles.

“Well?” I strike an awkward pose. “What do you think?”

There’s silence. I look up to check Caleb’s expression.

And the look on his face tells me that the dress is just right.

I smile. He’s gazing at me with a hungry look in his eyes, but it’s more than just lust. There’s something else there too. A kind of reverence, like I’m a stunning painting, or a work of art.

No man has ever looked at me this way.

“It’s perfect,” he says, getting to his feet. “You’re perfect. Except for one last thing…”

He moves closer, and reaches into his breast pocket, withdrawing a slim leather case. He pops it open, revealing…

“Oh my God.” I gasp. It’s the necklace from the vault, the diamond choker with the incredible pendant. “Caleb, I can’t wear that.”

“You can, and you will.”

He fastens it around my neck, and smooths my hair back into place. “There, now you’re ready.”

It’s not until we’re pulling up outside the Museum of Modern Art that I think to ask: “What is this event all about?”

He gives a shrug. “Bullshit.”

“I thought you said it’s for charity.”

He gives a rueful smile. “The charity’s not bullshit. The event is. Just another excuse for the same society people to flaunt and congratulate themselves. I usually don’t get into it, I leave this stuff for Olivia But this one, I’m told, is unavoidable. I have to make an appearance.”

I tense a little at Olivia’s name. “Will she be here tonight?” I ask, bracing myself.

He shakes his head. “No, prior engagement. That’s why I have to make an appearance.”

“Oh.” I relax again, relieved. There’s only so much stress I can take, and Caleb’s presence is commanding enough of it right now. “Well, maybe this one won’t be so bad. There’s food, right?”

He smiles at me. “Yes, there’ll be food.”

We climb the main steps into the grand hall, and I catch glimpses of famous pieces of art as we’re swallowed up by a crowd of impeccably dressed socialites.

If Caleb wasn’t enthusiastic about the event, you could never tell. He works the crowd like a pro, introducing me to dozens of people, all of whom know him and greet him happily, like he’s a member of their club. Then they run their eyes over me like I’m clearly not. I get the feeling they’ve seen Caleb with plenty of women before, and don’t think they need to waste their time with me.

Luckily, the feeling’s mutual, because I forget their names immediately. I hear an alphabet soup of titles—CEO, CFO, COO. But it all goes out in one ear and out the other. The only thing on my mind?

My date for the night.

I want him.

So much, I can’t think straight. All I can focus on is his hand, warm on the curve of my back. The sound of his voice, seductive in my ear. The brush of his sleeve, reaching to shake yet another hand.