Billionaire Bachelors 9 : Hidden Treasure(15)

Even if it would kill her budget. She hoped her father would mellow out before too much longer, and maybe, just maybe, let her have access to her trust fund again. Maybe she'd better quit ignoring his calls if she hoped for that to happen. This shopping trip wouldn't make the slightest dent in the money she had sitting in her frozen bank account.

Just the thought of her old platinum credit card made her want to cry. There was a time she hadn't had to think about the cost of anything. Now, a fifty-dollar pair of jeans was making her break out in a sweat.

One thing she was learning from all of this was that she should be a lot more grateful for what she'd had. Not everyone lived the way she used to live, and not everyone was just handed everything. But that was probably one of the lessons her father wanted to teach her and her brothers.

Slipping into the boots that Colt had picked out for her, she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror and grimaced to see herself in such an outfit. No way could she pull this off. She just wasn't made to be a ranch girl. She was made to live in the city in a nice safe condo where someone else did the yard work. That was just who she was. The sooner everyone in her life accepted that, the sooner she could get back to the real world. Her real world.

"Come out, Brielle," Colt said. "I know it can't take that long to change, not even for a princess."

She glared at the curtain separating her from Colt, but she had no doubt he would barge in on her if she didn't comply. The sad thing was that the thought of him sharing the small dressing room with her wasn't as horrifying as it should have been, not after that burning kiss. She feared she'd be replaying that several nights in a row in her dreams.

"I'm coming. Keep your pants on." She pulled the curtain back and stepped out. "I don't see how you people can deal with these clothes. My toes feel as if they're being crushed." She twirled around as a joke. This wasn't a fashion show she'd ever thought she'd participate in - that was for damn sure.

Colt stepped up behind her when her twirl left her back facing him. His hands slid around the curve of her h*ps and his thumbs settled in her front pockets as he turned their bodies so he could look into her light green eyes through the full-length mirror.


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"I think you look pretty damn hot in this outfit," he whispered against her ear, letting his lips brush the tender flesh of her neck as he bent just a little lower. "And these jeans have the added advantage of being the perfect resting place for a man's hands." He let his fingertips graze the top of her thighs.

Where was Peggy when Brielle needed someone to run interference? The shopkeeper had suddenly disappeared, and no one else seemed to be in the store. Gulping, Brielle knew she was in trouble, because she couldn't find one single comeback to Colt's lines.

She remained motionless as he kept pressing against her. What this man was doing to her body should be against the law. If someone had told her last year that she'd be melting into a giant puddle over a ranch hand, she would have given out a ladylike guffaw. Right now, however, she didn't feel in the least like laughing.

When he finally let her go, she walked almost in a trance back into the changing room, pulled the curtain back into place, slowly unbuttoned the shirt, and let it float to the floor. Then she just stood there looking into the mirror at her flushed cheeks.

This man was clearly making her appearance change. If the glow in her eyes had anything to do with something other than Colt Westbrook, she didn't know what it could be. It certainly wasn't the crisp Montana air.

When the curtain parted and Colt was suddenly standing behind her again, Brielle didn't even try to act as if she didn't want him there. Since that first kiss on the shop floor, she'd been waiting for the next.

To hell with what she should be doing. She wanted to taste him again, wanted to feel the lightning flash across her skin. No, she wasn't a virgin, but she couldn't ever recall wanting a man so badly. It wasn't as if she'd been with a dozen men - only two, in fact. But she had a rising suspicion that Colt was going to be the third.

That thought should have caused her some anxiety, but as she turned and his arms wrapped around her, all she could feel were burning embers traveling to her core.

"You are a devil in disguise," Colt murmured, and took her mouth in a kiss that was far from gentle.

Chapter Eight

When she emerged from the changing room, Brielle knew she looked as if she'd just had sex. They hadn't - of course not! - but she wasn't a fool. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen, and that certainly wasn't cosmetic blusher on her cheeks.

No. Sadly enough, a man hadn't been able to put this sort of glow in her face in too long to remember. Maybe ever, actually. She was used to being with controlled men, men who asked permission before they kissed her.