The CEO Buys In
Page 76
Faye chuckled as Chloe teetered past her on the high heels.
Nathan dropped his phone on the sofa beside him as she walked into the sitting area. She stopped in the middle of the carpet and held out her hands at her sides in a mute question. “It’s a Roberto Cavalli.”
He frowned as his gaze skimmed down her, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Come closer,” he said.
Chloe walked to within three feet of him. The heels gave her so much extra height that she had to look down to meet his eyes. They were ablaze with wicked intent.
“Now turn slowly.”
She rotated in front of him, knowing he was teasing her. “How many mirrors are in the dressing room?” he asked when her back was to him.
She threw him a glare over her shoulder. “Five—and Faye.”
He gave her a light pat on the behind.
Chloe came all the way around to face him. “There’s a security camera too.”
“I’m a tech geek. Security cameras don’t stand a chance against me.” He leaned back. “You know why I like this dress?”
Chloe raised her eyebrows.
“It makes me want to rip it off you.”
All the arousal she’d managed to tamp down burst back into full flame. “You don’t rip a Roberto Cavalli.”
“I suppose I could use scissors.” He ran his fingertip down the side of her rib cage and along the line of her hip. “Cold steel against your soft, warm skin. That could be very erotic.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d better try on the next dress.” She tried to spin on her heel and nearly fell. He caught her by the hips, holding her until she found her balance. As she teetered back to the dressing room, she could feel the imprint of his hands on her skin, almost as though they’d burned through the lacy fabric.
“He liked it for all the wrong reasons,” Chloe told Faye as the shopper unfastened the dress and helped her out of it.
“I’ve got the Carolina Herrera ready for you next. I have a good feeling about it.”
The soft cotton fabric of the second dress slithered down over Chloe’s skin, evoking the brush of Nathan’s hands. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse. The zipper sang as Faye ran it up her back. When Chloe opened her eyes, she knew this was the one.
The sheath skimmed her curves in a subtly sexy way, touching but not clinging. The pattern was an impressionist version of tweed in white, gray, and a rich, soft blue. What gave the dress a high-fashion twist was the way a different fabric, a sueded cotton in solid blue, formed wide straps in front but turned into a solid yoke in the back. It was fresh, sophisticated, and perfectly appropriate for an afternoon wedding in the South.
“Nailed it,” Faye said. “And wait until you see the shoes.”
She pulled a box marked “Dior” from the shelf and opened it to reveal pumps of gray taffeta embroidered with a dusting of blue spangles. As Faye lifted the shoes from the box, the beads threw a confetti of sparkles around the fitting room.
“I can’t wear these,” Chloe breathed. “They should be in a museum.”
Faye knelt to help Chloe step into the shoes. Then she draped a featherlight shawl of cashmere around Chloe’s shoulders in a swirl of blue. “For the church. I checked the weather, and it’s all you’ll need this time of year in North Carolina.”
She handed Chloe a neat little handbag in textured metallic leather. “By Alexander McQueen. Just enough room for what you need to carry, with a little sheen to give the outfit edge.”
Chloe stared at her multiple images in the mirror. She looked like . . . like a woman a billionaire would take to a wedding.
“All you need is jewelry,” Faye said. “I thought Nathan might want to choose that with you.”
“I can handle that myself,” Chloe said. She was not accepting expensive jewelry from Nathan. It reminded her too much of the dismissal of Ms. Fogarty. With the salary Trainor Electronics would be paying her, she didn’t need a diamond bracelet to sell anymore.
The Dior pumps were easier to balance on, so Chloe sashayed out to model for Nathan. He was drinking his water but put the glass down on the glass-topped coffee table with an audible clink when he saw her.
“This is the one,” Chloe said, striking a pose with her hand on her hip.
“If you say so,” he said, leaning forward. He gave her the same laser-focused assessment as she turned slowly without his prompting. When she faced him again, he nodded. “It works for me at a distance. Now come closer so I can test the fabric.”
Chloe stayed where she was. “To make sure it tears easily?”
His lips curved in a wicked smile. “No, to cop a feel.”
“Oh, well, in that case . . .” Chloe started toward him, letting her hips swing.
He gave a low rasp of a laugh and came up off the sofa in a swift movement, startling her to a halt. He came around the coffee table in two long strides and, putting one hand behind her head and one on her bottom, pulled her hard against him for a kiss that nearly blew the top of her head off. He lifted his head and looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Time to send Faye in search of some lingerie.”
Chloe hadn’t believed he meant it about the dressing room, but the seriousness of his intention was clear on his face. “We can’t really do that,” she hissed in a low voice. “The video will end up on the Internet or something.”
“Trust me.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her along behind him as he walked into the fitting room. Faye was unzipping the next dress for her to try on.
Nathan dropped his phone on the sofa beside him as she walked into the sitting area. She stopped in the middle of the carpet and held out her hands at her sides in a mute question. “It’s a Roberto Cavalli.”
He frowned as his gaze skimmed down her, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Come closer,” he said.
Chloe walked to within three feet of him. The heels gave her so much extra height that she had to look down to meet his eyes. They were ablaze with wicked intent.
“Now turn slowly.”
She rotated in front of him, knowing he was teasing her. “How many mirrors are in the dressing room?” he asked when her back was to him.
She threw him a glare over her shoulder. “Five—and Faye.”
He gave her a light pat on the behind.
Chloe came all the way around to face him. “There’s a security camera too.”
“I’m a tech geek. Security cameras don’t stand a chance against me.” He leaned back. “You know why I like this dress?”
Chloe raised her eyebrows.
“It makes me want to rip it off you.”
All the arousal she’d managed to tamp down burst back into full flame. “You don’t rip a Roberto Cavalli.”
“I suppose I could use scissors.” He ran his fingertip down the side of her rib cage and along the line of her hip. “Cold steel against your soft, warm skin. That could be very erotic.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d better try on the next dress.” She tried to spin on her heel and nearly fell. He caught her by the hips, holding her until she found her balance. As she teetered back to the dressing room, she could feel the imprint of his hands on her skin, almost as though they’d burned through the lacy fabric.
“He liked it for all the wrong reasons,” Chloe told Faye as the shopper unfastened the dress and helped her out of it.
“I’ve got the Carolina Herrera ready for you next. I have a good feeling about it.”
The soft cotton fabric of the second dress slithered down over Chloe’s skin, evoking the brush of Nathan’s hands. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her racing pulse. The zipper sang as Faye ran it up her back. When Chloe opened her eyes, she knew this was the one.
The sheath skimmed her curves in a subtly sexy way, touching but not clinging. The pattern was an impressionist version of tweed in white, gray, and a rich, soft blue. What gave the dress a high-fashion twist was the way a different fabric, a sueded cotton in solid blue, formed wide straps in front but turned into a solid yoke in the back. It was fresh, sophisticated, and perfectly appropriate for an afternoon wedding in the South.
“Nailed it,” Faye said. “And wait until you see the shoes.”
She pulled a box marked “Dior” from the shelf and opened it to reveal pumps of gray taffeta embroidered with a dusting of blue spangles. As Faye lifted the shoes from the box, the beads threw a confetti of sparkles around the fitting room.
“I can’t wear these,” Chloe breathed. “They should be in a museum.”
Faye knelt to help Chloe step into the shoes. Then she draped a featherlight shawl of cashmere around Chloe’s shoulders in a swirl of blue. “For the church. I checked the weather, and it’s all you’ll need this time of year in North Carolina.”
She handed Chloe a neat little handbag in textured metallic leather. “By Alexander McQueen. Just enough room for what you need to carry, with a little sheen to give the outfit edge.”
Chloe stared at her multiple images in the mirror. She looked like . . . like a woman a billionaire would take to a wedding.
“All you need is jewelry,” Faye said. “I thought Nathan might want to choose that with you.”
“I can handle that myself,” Chloe said. She was not accepting expensive jewelry from Nathan. It reminded her too much of the dismissal of Ms. Fogarty. With the salary Trainor Electronics would be paying her, she didn’t need a diamond bracelet to sell anymore.
The Dior pumps were easier to balance on, so Chloe sashayed out to model for Nathan. He was drinking his water but put the glass down on the glass-topped coffee table with an audible clink when he saw her.
“This is the one,” Chloe said, striking a pose with her hand on her hip.
“If you say so,” he said, leaning forward. He gave her the same laser-focused assessment as she turned slowly without his prompting. When she faced him again, he nodded. “It works for me at a distance. Now come closer so I can test the fabric.”
Chloe stayed where she was. “To make sure it tears easily?”
His lips curved in a wicked smile. “No, to cop a feel.”
“Oh, well, in that case . . .” Chloe started toward him, letting her hips swing.
He gave a low rasp of a laugh and came up off the sofa in a swift movement, startling her to a halt. He came around the coffee table in two long strides and, putting one hand behind her head and one on her bottom, pulled her hard against him for a kiss that nearly blew the top of her head off. He lifted his head and looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Time to send Faye in search of some lingerie.”
Chloe hadn’t believed he meant it about the dressing room, but the seriousness of his intention was clear on his face. “We can’t really do that,” she hissed in a low voice. “The video will end up on the Internet or something.”
“Trust me.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her along behind him as he walked into the fitting room. Faye was unzipping the next dress for her to try on.
