Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8. Andie Brock

in and rose to leave. “We’ll go for dinner in three hours.” He glanced to the couturier. “And return in the morning for another fitting.”

      “Parfait. Merci, monsieur.” Her smile was calm, but the way people were bustling told Luli how big a deal this was. How big a deal Gabriel was.

      The women took her measurements while showing her unfinished pieces that only needed hemming or minimal tailoring so she could take them immediately.

      “You’ll be up all night,” Luli murmured to one of the seamstresses.

      The young woman moved quickly, but not fast enough for her boss who kept crying, “Vite! Vite!”

      “I’m sorry to put you through this,” Luli added.

      “Pas de problème. Monsieur Dean is a treasured client. It’s our honor to provide your trousseau.” She clamped her teeth on a pin between words. “Do you know where he’s taking you for dinner? We should choose that dress next, so I can work on the alterations while you have your hair and makeup done. It must be fabulous. The world will be watching.”

      She would be presented publicly as his wife, Luli realized with a hard thump in her heart.

      She still didn’t know what their marriage meant. He had remained silent on the topic of their sleeping together after her confession before they left Singapore. They had spent the flight talking about the features of his laptop and some investments she thought she should unload, since their value had peaked and would likely begin to dwindle as the news of his takeover sank in. He had approved it, allowing her to continue ensuring the cogs of Mae’s business kept turning while he chewed his way through the wiring into her accounts himself.

      They had dozed in their recliners at different times, neither of them seeking the comfort of the bed. He hadn’t invited her to join him there, at least. She hadn’t known how to circle back to whether he wanted her there.

      She wished she knew what he was thinking, now that she had confessed her virginity. She wished she had experience to draw on! Had he kissed her because he found her attractive? Or merely because she had signed a paper that allowed him conjugal rights? She met all the criteria for typical standards of modern beauty, but perhaps that only made her objectively attractive and didn’t translate into someone who was actually desirable.

      She reminded herself again that he had done her a favor in cutting things short. Along with youth and beauty, one of the few things she possessed that was hers to give or barter was her virginity. She had presumed it might have value to certain men, but Gabriel didn’t seem to be one of them.

      And yet he must like sex and women. She stood where other women must have stood, buying clothing charged to him. Gabriel was a treasured client.

      How strange to hate women she had never met, but she did. Instantly and bitterly.

      Jealousy is a sign of insecurity and low self-esteem, she could hear her mother cautioning her. But this wasn’t a case where Luli could size up her competition and see how many of their qualities she possessed then make adjustments to outshine them.

      She could only make the most of what she had—and gritted her teeth in determination, intending to.

      “This one,” she said of the dress she tried on a few minutes later.

      From the back, it was a one-shouldered evening dress in cranberry silk with a filmy chiffon skirt, except half of the skirt was ivory. The front was more dramatic, with its silk bodice fitted to her breasts and the bottom of the dress made of shiny silk and cut to miniskirt height. The chiffon of the overskirt was belted in the pink-red silk, but its ruffled edges opened as she walked, delicate as fairy wings.

      “You have a good eye and the ideal figure for Madame’s creations,” her seamstress gushed.

      Luli accepted tall silver shoes with a pop of merlot on the sole then moved to the styling room. Her hair was blown out and her nails buffed and polished. A cosmetician applied cleansers, toners, moisturizer, antioxidants and foundation. When the woman reached for her color palette, Luli said, “I’ll do it.”

      It had been years, but her muscle memory for liquid eyeliner and blending hues to contour her bone structure served her well.

      Even so, when she stood dressed and ready in front of the mirror, she saw a stranger. Not because it had been so long since she had seen herself stage ready, but because she was no longer fourteen. Being twenty-two shouldn’t have made such a difference when she had been acting like an adult as an adolescent, but it did. Rather than looking like a girl playing dress up, she looked like a woman. A confident, self-possessed, beautiful woman.

      Act like you believe it, she silently told the apprehensive face in the mirror.

      “Monsieur Dean has arrived,” her seamstress came in to advise her. “Ooh, là là! He will faint. I may.” She fanned her face.

      “Thank you,” Luli said, accepting the compliment graciously, as her mother had taught her to do. Anything less would suggest she believed herself inferior in some way.

      Luli gave herself a final scrutiny, adjusted her posture and ensured she stood as tall as she was able. Then she thought back to the puppy she had played with as a child. She didn’t recall whom it had belonged to, but the memory was one she had always used to awaken a feeling of happiness within her. It was the happiest she’d ever felt.

      She faltered. Had she really not had a happy moment since then?

      “Perhaps you would like to carry this instead?” the seamstress said, offering a Cleopatra clutch in black alligator skin with an ornate silver clasp.

      Luli had kept her wallet in her line of sight the entire time she’d been here, terrified that if it disappeared, she would. She used the excuse of changing purses to check again that her precious identification was still in her possession. She handed off the empty wallet to the woman who promised to bag it with the items going to the car.

      Emotion threatened to swamp her afresh as she absorbed what Gabriel had given her with a few legal documents. Options. Possibility. The gift of existence was greater than any haute couture dress or designer handbag or limitless credit card.

      It was a miracle.

      She did have a more recent memory of happiness, she realized. This. As she snapped the clutch closed and turned its tiny lock, she let the glow of gratitude toward him seep through her until joy shone from her smile and radiated from her demeanor.

      With every ounce of grace she had ever possessed, she walked to the reception lounge.

      * * *

      Gabriel turned from instructing the couturier to box up as much as possible by morning so they could take it on the jet with them—and all the air was punched from his lungs.

      A goddess approached in an unhurried gait that rocked her hips. Her skirt wafted back from her mile-long legs and her breasts bounced lightly above a long, slender waist. Her hair slithered in loose ribbons of caramel with glints of cool platinum against the warm gold of her bare shoulders and upper chest.

      Her face was an angel’s, luminous and pure. Aside from the dramatic lines that accented her eyes and gave them a hint of tilt, she wore little makeup. Or wore it so well, it was barely noticeable. Her lashes were naturally long and thick. He’d studied them while she had slept on the plane. Her succulent lips were accentuated with a delicate pink and shone with gloss. Her smile was one of exultation. Whatever she was celebrating, he decided she was entitled to it.

      He couldn’t fault her in that moment for one damned thing.

      She halted before she reached him, struck a pose, pivoted to show the back of the dress. It lifted and floated back down before she pivoted again and continued toward him with a playful sparkle in her eye.

      The entire move had been executed so smoothly, he chuckled with enjoyment.

      “Maximum points for first impression, I hope.