“Thanks.”
“But purple doesn’t suit you.”
“I hate purple.”
“What color do you like?” he asked.
“Black.”
“I should’ve known.”
She left the room, went around the corner and past the rack of Beau’s selections. Something near the front had caught her eye when she’d walked in. She found it in her size and returned to the fitting room, where Beau remained in the same spot, watching her. Behind the door again, she was alone. “Beau?”
“Yes, Lola?”
Alone with his voice.
“Why me?” she asked.
She put the purple dress back on its hanger while he took his time responding. “I suppose I should’ve been prepared for this question.”
“You could just be honest,” she suggested.
“All right. It started with the first moment I saw you. Everything else just…ceased to exist. Time. People. Music. You stood there like a prize waiting to be claimed. It stopped me in my tracks.”
Jesus. Had he claimed her yet? Or was that to come? Her face flushed as if she were back outside the bar, having just put a dent in a teenager’s car with her tennis shoe. “That’s who I am.”
“Who are you?”
“The girl you saw that night. I’m not expensive silk dresses and Friday-night events. I’m just the scrappy kid I always was, a girl who’s made some bad decisions, good ones too. Nothing special.”
“That’s not what I saw,” Beau said. “I saw confidence, resistance, strength. Blue, bloodthirsty eyes.”
The girl Beau described reminded Lola of herself when she was younger. She was still that girl, just not as vibrantly as she’d been back then. “Will you zip me?” she asked.
She opened the door and turned to face the dressing room mirror. The black floor-length gown had two straps that came around her neck and dipped in the front. Soft, pebbled leather subtly trimmed the neckline.
Beau appeared at her back. In one hand, she held up her hair. He didn’t touch her once while he raised the zipper. Their eyes caught in the reflection. “This is the dress,” he said. “I don’t need to see any others.”
“You certainly know what you like, don’t you?” she asked.
They stared at each other. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to the curve of her shoulder. His stubble lit instant chills over her skin. She inhaled deeply, quietly. Her lids fell more with each careful, sensual kiss—along her neck, under her ear, on her cheek. She wet her lips and parted them for him.
“Not yet,” he said in her ear.
“When?” she breathed.
“Soon. You aren’t ready for me. I hope you are at some point, but either way, it will be soon.” He held her gaze. “You asked me why you? I’m drawn to you in a way that can’t be ignored for long. There are limits to my patience.” He backed away. “Wait here,” he said before disappearing.
It was a moment before she dropped her hair. His restraint surprised her more than anything else so far.
Her eyes fell to her faux-leather brown hobo-style purse slumped in the corner. It looked out of place even on the floor, which was plush, white carpet. She glanced over her shoulder then squatted and retrieved her phone to text Johnny.
* * *
Everything’s fine. We’re just shopping. Going to an event.
* * *
She put the phone back right before Beau entered the room with a saleswoman loaded down with shoes, jewelry and a clutch that matched the dress. She put everything on the bench above Lola’s purse.
Beau also had something for her in his hands, and he was clearly anticipating her reaction.
She took the ling
erie from him without flinching. “It’s lovely,” she said. She ran a finger over the fine lace corset and then checked the price tag. “But is it necessary? I’ve never spent this much on anything and certainly not to sleep in.”
“It’s more necessary than anything else we buy tonight,” Beau said in a deeper voice than usual. “And you won’t be sleeping in it.”
The saleswoman visibly bumbled as she left the room.
Lola’s phone chimed behind her, and Beau’s eyes cut to her purse. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. Tonight you belong to me. And no. Not just your body.” He went and picked up her bag, pulled out the phone and read the screen. “Your thoughts and your heart too.” He slipped it into his pocket. “As long as you’re with me, he doesn’t exist.”
Her mouth hung open a little. “I’m sorry if you thought any amount of money would get you my heart,” she said.
He stepped close to her. Mint cooled the champagne on his breath. “When it comes to which parts of you I own, don’t fucking challenge me again. Is that understood? I own them all. Period.” He took a deep breath, but it didn’t seem to calm him. “There’s still five hundred grand on the line. Act like you want to be here with me, or I’ll call everything off.”
She held his glare, trying to manage her own temper. She wouldn’t walk away now. Beau was regaining his hold on her, like the one he’d had the night they met. Giving all of herself over wasn’t an option, though—not if she wanted anything back when this was over.
“What’s it going to be?” he asked. With another step, his shirt ghosted against her nipples. “Keep the half a mil and walk right now, or give yourself to me until I say stop?”
“I asked you why me,” she said. “Your answer was that you’re drawn to me. I don’t believe you.”
“What do you believe?”
“That you have to pay women for their attention,” she said. She didn’t believe that at all, but his composure was unnerving, and she craved a real reaction.
“You looked me up. You saw the endless buffet of women I have to choose from.”
“You’re a pig,” Lola said. “A buffet? You think of women as food?”