Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
I quickly try it on and it’s a perfect fit. I smirk at my reflection—the peekaboo style of the shirt is at once seductive and demure and I know Con is going to want to rip this off me as well so I’ll have to be fast getting it off—it’s too beautiful to damage.
Outside, Con clears his throat. “Willow? Are you done yet?”
Typical guy, he obviously thinks trying on clothes should take thirty seconds or less. “Well, I did find something. Do you want to see?”
I walk through the doorway to find Con with a flute of champagne in his hand, trying not to look too impatient. His eyes immediately darken as he sees me in this gorgeous blouse and slowly he licks his lips. Oh, yeah, he likes it.
Callie appears and claps her hands together. “Oh, I’m glad you like the blouse! It’s my personal favorite. Mr. Romano was very clear about the style of clothing he wanted to have ready for you, so I do hope that you find the items acceptable.”
“Yes, everything is simply gorgeous, but I’ll just take the blouse,” I say with a smile.
Con frowns. “Willow, isn’t there anything else you like in there?”
“Everything is beautiful, Con, but I only need the blouse.” I don’t want him to feel like he has to buy me anything when it’s so not the case—I don’t want his money, I just want him.
But my answer seems to upset him even more. His frown turns into a scowl and he says to Callie, “We’ll take everything in the dressing room.”
I gasp, but Callie, ever the professional, barely turns a hair. “Certainly, sir, I’ll get everything together for you. I’m so pleased that you like my selections.” Despite her sedate expression I’m sure she’s freaking out inside at the size of the commission she’s getting.
“Con!” I whisper furiously as Callie gathers all the clothes together. “It’s too much!”
“It’s Christmas.” Con places his flute on the table next to the chair and before I realize it he’s tugging me into his lap.
“Con! We’re in public!” I squirm, trying to stand up, but he won’t budge his grip. I glance toward Callie, who discreetly avoids us and instead bustles toward the door, dragging the rack of clothes behind her.
“I assume Ms. Kaplan will be keeping the blouse on, and I’ll have everything else delivered to your home. I’ll be back in a few minutes to obtain your signature,” she says as she disappears out of the dressing room.
I relax and realize I’m probably overreacting. I’m sure Callie has seen worse things happen in the dressing rooms, but I want to keep my relationship with Con private. It’s too precious to share.
“Willow,” Con says in a chiding tone. “What did I say before about me taking care of you? You’re my girl now, and I want to provide you with everything.”
I bite my lip. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m here because of your money. I’d want you even if you weren’t rich.”
He smiles gently and strokes my thigh. “I know, baby girl, I’ve known how you feel for years. But now that you belong to me you have to accept all of me, and part of that is accepting my need to care for you. It makes me happy to give you beautiful clothes and all the things you deserve. I’ve always felt that way about you, even when I shouldn’t have. Who do you think insisted that you should be dressed like a princess for the Yuletide Ball?”
I blink at him in confusion. “But it was Dad who paid for everything.” Which is why I had to go to the consignment store to get my dress and accessories.
“Yes, he did, but only after I gave him money so he could buy you the outfit you deserved. I hit the roof when I found out he was planning on bringing you but not buying you a dress for it. You looked like a dream that night,” Con rasps, staring at me.
Tears fill my eyes at how Con had cared for me even when he was pushing me away. I won’t tell him that Dad had obviously only used a fraction of the money Con had given him on me and pocketed the rest.
The phone buzzes again and I sigh. Speak of the devil—I really have to text Dad back. I reach over to my bag lying next to Con’s flute and fetch my phone, checking my messages.
WHERE R U??? WHY HAVEN’T I HEARD BACK? YOU PROMISED TO PICK UP A GIFT FOR MIMI AND I’M MEETING HER IN AN HOUR.
DID YOU GET THE DEAL INFO FROM CON-MAN? I REALLY NEED IT!!!
“What the fuck?”
Uh oh. I try to put away the phone, but Con snatches it from my hand and thumbs through my texts. Slowly he raises his head and I recoil from the rage I see in his eyes.