“I will see you later at my apartment. You may leave here early or wait until the end. I don’t care which. You may even go home to get a change of clothing. The same driver that brought you here is at your disposal until you don’t need him any longer. However, you will wake up under me in the morning.”
He left her in the hall and returned to the ballroom just in time for a tap on the microphone onstage. Easton shifted his shoulders. He waited for his name to be called and then jogged up the stairs. Doing his best to hide his boredom, he accepted thanks and handshakes. He made a small speech as he looked over the crowd, careful not to linger on Kenzie, who had rejoined the partiers. While he knew it would further his progress with Jocelyn to focus on her during his speech, he didn’t do that either. What he said to her, how he treated her, would be done in private. If the press got a hold of his particular interest, it would not be a good thing. No, he would woo her with no one around. If she worked out, great. If not, another would take her place. Meanwhile, Kenzie would warm his bed. Kenzie. She had started a fire of need in his core, one he refused to deny himself. The evening couldn’t end fast enough.
Chapter Seven
Kenzie should tell Easton to kiss her ass, but the man might like that. So might she, come to think of it. She found herself back at her brownstone packing an overnight bag, just as he’d suggested. She’d known from the first mention of how she looked in the dress, and the reaction he’d noticed from all the men in the place—none of which she believed—that she’d give in to him. Perhaps no one had looked at her, especially judging by that woman’s assertion of her being a nobody. Easton desired her. She had no doubt about that.
After she had removed the dress and packed it away safely, she tucked the jewels into the box they’d arrived in. No matter what he said, she would return them. Taking one last look and groaning, she put them with the dress and shoes, ready to take down to the car. She had looked good, if she did say so herself. The silky material of the dress minimized her hips while at the same time showing them off—if that were possible. She’d felt like a goddess, and to dance with Easton, her night was complete.
Why had she been so nervous, though? She’d been clumsy, and just walking into the place, she’d almost fainted. Then after she spotted him, he seemed about to turn away. She hadn’t thought she could weather the rejection in that situation, but he saw her fear. The recognition glinted in his eyes. He’d come to her rescue and swooped her up.
The doorbell rang, and soon she folded into Easton’s car. He wasn’t there, and she wondered if he still entertained Jocelyn. She ground her teeth together fighting jealousy. This was the plan all along. She wanted Easton to go after the woman, and it was her job, if one could call it that, to help him.
“I will carry your bags for you, ma’am,” the driver said.
Kenzie considered refusing but realized it would get her nowhere. She strode with purpose ahead of the man and greeted the doormen in Easton’s building.
“Good evening, Ms. Bridges.”
She flinched a little at being recognized, but then, Easton had to tell them who visited. A billionaire drew undesirables. In the elevator, she recalled their lovemaking and did her best not to show the driver how it affected her. When she’d sent him off, she bent to take her bag to the living room but paused at a sound behind her. She turned, and her eyes widened at the older woman dressed in nothing but a bed sheet. She held two glasses of wine in her hands.
“Who are you?” she demanded. The southern twang rang sharp in her speech. “I was expecting Easton.”
“I can see that. Who are you?” Kenzie stood there at a loss. So he had no qualms sleeping with whatever woman caught his eye? She ran her gaze over the leggy blonde, taking in the big hair and the huge boobs that were scarcely hidden behind the sheet. In fact, she guessed the woman had allowed the barrier to slip just enough to show off deep rose areolas. Kenzie had trouble not vomiting on the spot.
The woman drew herself to her full height. “I am Mrs. Lurlene Purdy Tremaine, if you must know.”
Kenzie stared. Who the hell? Surely she wasn’t young enough to be married to Easton’s brother, and if she were, then what was she doing naked at Easton’s? Was he having an affair with her? Did he get his nights mixed up?
“Look, I’m sorry for interrupting. My mistake.” She placed the dress, diamonds, and shoes on the hall table and turned to leave.
“What’s that?” Lurlene wondered. She crossed over to the table and poked at the packaging.