“We’d be more comfortable at a hotel.”
Lola looked around the limo. There’d been no mention of where he lived in her research. Her heart plummeted when she realized the most obvious reason he wouldn’t want her in his home. She turned back to him.
“I’m not married,” he said.
“How’d you know I was going to ask that?”
“I watched it play out on your face,” he said. “I like that you’re expressive.”
She ignored that. “Girlfriend?”
“Completely unattached. I promise.”
She wondered if her relief also played out on her face. Beau had chosen her, had orchestrated all this for her, and if nothing else, Lola would allow herself to feel special about that tonight. The only thing that could take that away would be another woman. “Will we be there soon?”
Beau let her question hang in the air a moment. “Do you want to be there soon?” he asked.
It was a blunt question delivered bluntly. Her answer didn’t matter—it wouldn’t change the course of her night. It was almost impossible to lie to him, looking as handsome as he did in his tuxedo. He was tall and obviously well built, but was he as hard underneath as he was on the outside? Was he strong? If they had sex against a wall, how long could he hold her up? “No,” she said quickly to cover up that last thought. “It all just sounds very top secret.”
“It isn’t,” he said. “You’re just asking the wrong questions. We’re going to a gala.”
“A what?” The tuxedo. She’d been so caught up in herself that she hadn’t stopped to wonder why he was wearing one.
“A black-tie gala to benefit the L.A. Philharmonic. I needed a date. That’s why I picked tonight for us.”
She pulled on the hem of her vintage concert tee. “But I’m not dressed for that.”
“Thank God you agree. You can wear that if you want, but I prefer not to spend the night looking at Stevie Nicks and her yellow hair.”
Lola scrambled. “I wish you’d told me. I can find something more appropriate if you take me back.”
“That won’t be necessary. I didn’t tell you to dress up because I planned a little extra time for shopping.”
“I didn’t realize…I thought we would just—”
“Fuck?”
Lola’s breath caught. If Johnny ever spoke to her that way, it wasn’t in broad daylight, outside the heat of the moment. “Honestly,” she said, swallowing back her surprise, “it wouldn’t take me long to run into my apartment. I only have one dress that would—”
“I’d be a madman to take you back now that I have you.”
Lola shut her mouth. He was becoming bolder, catching her off guard more. “You will, though, won’t you?” she asked quietly, not entirely sure he’d say yes. “Take me home?”
“In the morning, as promised. But not a minute sooner.” He moved the test results from between them to the floor and placed his arm along the back of the seat. “First we’ll go shopping. You’ll wear what I select for you, and I’ll pay for it.”
“I’m not comfortable with that. It’s not part of the deal. I can buy my own clothing.”
He zapped her conviction with a look. “In case it needs to be reiterated, Lola, I always say what I mean. Nothing is open to discussion. And since you’ve promised yourself over to me for the next twelve or so hours, make this easy for us both and comply.”
“If you were looking for a woman who’d just comply, I don’t think I’d be here right now.”
His eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”
“A man like you would have no problems finding willing women. You want someone unwilling. Someone you have to work for. You think I’m trashy, maybe a little wild, and that does something for you. I understand.” For the first time since she’d met Beau, Lola felt in control. The look on his face and the quickening of his breath gave him away. He leaned into her as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “If you tell me exactly what you’re looking for,” she said, “I can play that part for you. I’ve done it before.”
“You’ve done what before?” he asked, hardly even blinking.
“Been someone’s fantasy.”
“Not their reality, though.” He’d slid over in the seat, far enough that he’d have to reach to kiss her, but still close.
“No.”
“I want the reality. You. Just you.”
She lifted one shoulder. “You have me. My body’s already yours. If it’s not enough, tell me what to be.”
“I made myself clear on this already. This is about you, Lola. Not just what’s underneath those jeans and T-shirt. I won’t accept anything less than everything from you tonight.”
She shook her head coyly. “My body is one thing, the rest of me is another. What you paid for is only what’s underneath these jeans and T-shirt.”
The car slowed to a stop. Beau straightened up abruptly. “You’re wrong. That’s not what we agreed on.” He looked away from her and opened the door before the driver could.
Lola took Beau’s hand and unfolded out of the car. Palm trees framed the tall windows of the marble storefront, which displayed smartly dressed mannequins. “I hate to tell you this,” Lola said, “but these shops are closed.”
He put his hand on her upper back, trapping the ends of her hair. “Not for us,” he said, guiding her forward. The brass-handled, glass doors opened with his words.
“You must be Lola,” said a slick-haired blonde saleswoman, outstretching her hand. “I understand it’s an important night for you.”
Another woman appeared with two glasses of champagne.
“Is that what he told you?” Lola asked, taking a drink.
“Lola,” Beau warned. “Don’t pretend your thirtieth birthday dinner is just another night.”
The saleswoman smiled. “Well, you’re in good hands with us.” Both women disappeared somewhere into the pristine, bone-and-black-lacquer interior.
“It’s not even close to my birthday,” Lola said. “Why the subterfuge?”
“It’s fun to watch you squirm.”
“Well, if we’re playing games, could I not be thirty already? How would you like if I went around telling people you’re forty when you’re not for a few more years?”