Wicked Bad (The Billionaire's Fake Finace 1)

“I’ve got meetings until late afternoon. Isabella is waiting in the lobby and she’ll take you shopping. She knows what you need but you should know,” he ran his lips down the column of my neck, turning my legs to jelly, “that black lace drives me f**king insane.”

It wasn’t until cool air washed over my overheated skin that I realized he was gone. I looked over my shoulder and the room was empty. How long had I been standing there like that?

My fingers ached from gripping the rail so tight and I forced them to relax.

He was trying to kill me. That was the only explanation. I sucked in several deep breaths of air. My skin still buzzed with awareness even though he was gone now.

“If teasing were an Olympic Sport, you’d win a gold medal Madden Cross,” I said to the empty room. If I had known this was what I was getting into when I agreed to his offer, I might have said no.

A soft knock came from the door to the room. When I crossed and opened it, a tiny woman stood there with a bright smile. Her grey hair was cropped short and framed her face beautifully. She had on a teal blue jacket and cream pencil skirt. Five inch teal heels pulled the entire outfit together.

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Isabella, Ms. Kinsey. Mr. Cross asked me to help you pick out evening attire for your stay. I have the town car waiting if you’re ready?”

I shook her hand and noticed how ragged my nails looked next to her perfect manicure. As soon as I dropped her hand I curled my fingers into my palms.

“I’ve also scheduled you for a massage, mani-pedi and a hair appointment before dinner. I believe Mr. Cross is meeting you there at six. Shall we go?” The whirlwind that was Isabella guided me down the steps to a waiting car before I could protest.

A chauffeur opened the door for us and she slid in effortlessly. I climbed in behind her.

“I’ve called ahead to the boutique and asked them to set aside a couple of dresses I think will be perfect for you. Mr. Cross mentioned you had green eyes, but he didn’t say how stunning they were. There is a dress that just came in last week that will be amazing.” Isabella typed quick notes into her phone as she talked.

When had Madden planned all this? It was only last night that I agreed to come with him. He must have sent instructions right after that. Did he do this with all the women he brought here, or was it obvious that I would have had nothing appropriate?

Heat climbed into my cheeks and I turned to look out the window. How many others had Isabella taken shopping? Get a grip Skylar, does it really matter? In two days I would be paid and I could put more distance between me and Maine. This was a way for me to ensure my own safety. If Madden wanted to play Pretty Woman, then why the hell not. It wasn’t like I’d ever have this chance again.

“Champagne?” Isabella asked. She held out a fluted glass filled with tiny bubbles.

After only a second's hesitation, I took the glass.

“Cheers.”

* * *

About two hours and many sips of champagne later, I was almost a new woman with a new wardrobe.

“I think that’s the one,” Isabella said and Katya, the owner of the boutique, nodded in agreement.

I had tried on five dresses and it had become clear very quickly that my opinion didn’t really matter. The two women conferred over every detail, from the hem line to the bodice cut and dismissed every one.

Though to give them credit, the dress they were now agreeing on was amazing. It was as if the dress had been made just for me. The neckline plunged down to reveal the inner edges of my bre**asts and tapered in at the waist. The material had been gathered and sewn into pleats that ran diagonally along my ribs and then fell in cascading waves to the floor. The green was a soft mint that changed the color in my eyes. They were softer. Brighter. The shoes that Katya brought me fit like Cinderella’s glass slippers. They were the same shade of green with straps criss crossing over the top of my foot and they fastened around my ankles. Unlike Isabella's five inch heels, these were a more practical three.

Isabella stepped behind me and gathered my hair up and away from my neck. “Definitely up. We need a delicate necklace, something that doesn't take away from the dress.”

Katya was gone and back in a flash and she fastened a necklace around my neck. It was as simple silver chain with a teardrop shaped diamond pendant.

I stared at my reflection. I was dressed for a walk on the red carpet, not dinner at a resort.

“This is too much,” I argued.

Neither woman acknowledged that I had spoken.

“This and the necklace then. I think that the cream colored one will work for tomorrow evening, so that and the shoes we picked out. You can change back into your clothes now, Ms Kinsey.” Isabella ticked off items from the list she had on her phone as I walked back to the dressing room. Katya’s as**sistant was waiting to help me undress. By the time I had my own clothes back on, the pile of boxes and garment bags waiting had grown enough to clothe a small army.