Holiday with the Millionaire

Bree reappeared with the glass of water in her hand. ‘Gorgeous,’ she breathed.

He waved his hand towards Bree without taking his eyes off Lara. ‘This one’s definitely a keeper.’

She was caught. She loved this dress. She loved everything about it. But it was just a dream. Like the rest of the clothes behind the curtain. A dream that could never be hers.

‘We’ll take it.’ He’d lost his huskiness. Now his voice was determined.

‘What? No. No, we can’t. I don’t even know how much it costs.’ And probably don’t want to know, because that would definitely spoil the dream.

‘It doesn’t matter. I’d said I’d cover it. That...’ he glanced down at her bare legs ‘...and the shoes. And the rest of the clothes she tried on and liked.’ He walked back over to the range of clothes and picked up a slinky electric-blue dress. ‘I like this one too, it matches your eyes. Try it on and if you like it we’ll have it too.’ He nodded towards a bright pink dress with sparkling circular beads. ‘And that one.’

He punched a number into his phone and put it to his ear.

Bree started flapping around her, a wide smile reaching from ear to ear. She lifted out the clothes that Lara had preferred. ‘Okay, I’ll put these ones over here.’ She pointed to the capri pants and blue dress. ‘Take your time and try those on too. I’ve got a gorgeous pink printed blouse that will match those pants.’ She disappeared before Lara had a chance to speak again.

Lara looked down. It would be so easy right now to say yes. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She didn’t want to feel as if she owed anything to Reuben. And it didn’t matter that he didn’t give her that vibe—money was no object to a man like him. She just didn’t want to feel like that.

Reuben’s voice started to rise. ‘That’s enough. You have a responsibility to the club. If you renege on the deal now it could affect the club’s shares.’

Lara was hesitating behind the curtain. It didn’t look like now was a good time to talk to Reuben. She shifted from foot to foot then grabbed the white capri pants and tried them on. Bree was back a few seconds later with the printed pink shirt.

Bree’s taste was impeccable. She hadn’t picked a single thing that hadn’t complemented Lara’s skin tone and shape. The pink shirt was printed with little birds and tied at the front. It was perfect.

Bree gave a little sigh. ‘That’s fantastic. Is there anything else I can get you?’

‘No.’ Lara said the words quickly before she could change her mind. This was getting out of hand.

She slid the shirt and pants back off and handed them to Bree, who disappeared while she pulled her skinny jeans and T-shirt on again. She pulled back the curtain as she tugged on her boots and shouted over to Reuben. ‘Reuben, we really need to talk.’

He glanced up from his phone and waved his hand at her. This was getting old.

She marched over in front of him. It was clear he was mad. His voice had risen even more and now he was just plain shouting. ‘I’m tired of this. Fed up having to try and placate an adult who is acting like a two-year-old. Enough! I’m done dealing with you.’ He hung up and jammed his phone in his pocket as his other hand kneaded the side of his temple.

* * *

If Reuben had been in the same room as that player he would probably have killed him with his bare hands. Troubleshooting was becoming exasperating. This one footballer had signed for a lesser-known club, taken part in the announcements and then decided to back out of the deal—after the club’s shares had already soared and they’d spent a huge amount of funds on printing his name across their shirts. Kids were already fighting to get one.

The player’s temper tantrum and bad behaviour could bankrupt a club that had already been on the brink.

He blinked and looked up. Lara was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. His stomach did that crazy thing it had in the last few hours and flipped over. She’d been the one bright thing in the past twenty-four hours.

‘What?’

She shook her head. ‘You can’t buy those clothes for me.’ She held out her hands. ‘Reuben, I shouldn’t even be in a place like this. I probably can’t afford a bra from this place, let alone anything else.’

‘You need a bra?’ That was creating pictures in his mind it shouldn’t. Every time they’d appeared in his brain these last few hours he’d tried to force his memories back to the pink onesie. That usually killed any hormones plain dead.

Lara’s brow creased into a frown. ‘No. I don’t need a bra. I need to be able to pay for my own clothes.’