In the cool air of the temperature-moderated room sat the closet, full of a new wardrobe I had neither picked out, nor needed to return. Hunter arranged for his people to outfit me in exact sizes, and in colors and cuts that suited both my body and my complexion.
Or so Hunter said when I had marveled at the wardrobe the night before.
“Have the documents arrived?”
I looked into the main area of the suite where couches stood in front of a large TV hanging on the wall. In the corner, Hunter sat at the desk with his laptop open and his cell phone held to his ear. He’d been that way since the small hours of the morning.
Realizing he wasn’t talking to me, I ducked back into the bedroom and took my place in front of the closet, marveling at all the finery. As it was Saturday, jeans and a shirt would be perfect.
I picked through the selections, the equivalent of a week’s worth of clothes, only to find there were no jeans. Scowling, I looked again. Nope.
Disappointed, I chose a pair of slacks instead, as well as a top that was way too nice for a weekend.
The dresser had all new underwear, with lacy bras and panties as well as standard cotton fare. I chose lace, because really, at the price Hunter paid, it would probably be more comfortable even than the cotton.
When I asked why Hunter stocked the room as though we’d be staying a while, he’d tilted his head in confusion and said, “There was no telling what you’d want to wear, so I had my assistant get everything.”
Everything except jeans, apparently.
I spent time brushing out and blow-drying my hair, and putting on a light dusting of makeup. That was the problem with nice clothes—a messy ponytail and plain face didn’t really go. I had to at least try to look pretty.
After that, I visited the safe, struggling not to be uncomfortable as diamond earrings, tennis bracelets, and all manner of gems glittered at me. I didn’t really want to put any of these on. They matched the clothes, but there was no telling what I’d do to them. I might scuff a ruby, or accidentally lose an earring, or…who knew? I wasn’t practiced in wearing expensive things—I didn’t know how to take care of them.
I reached forward anyway. Hunter wouldn’t take my fear as a viable reason to refrain from wearing his purchases. He’d just tell me to start practicing.
After I chose the plainest of the options and fastened them on, I stood in front of the mirror. I now looked like a richer version of myself, and I had to say, the transformation was great. I felt like a princess.
If only I could relax at the same time. This just wasn’t Saturday attire.
I walked out into the main room as Hunter set his phone on the desk and went back to his computer. I barely stopped myself from plunking down in the couch as I might have done in jeans. Instead, I sat almost gracefully. I crossed one ankle over the other. Then uncrossed, because I didn’t feel like being dainty.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, still staring at his computer.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’re sighing loudly.” He swiveled in his chair and dropped his arm over the back. His sexy gaze took me in. “You look great, apart from the scowl. What is it?”
“Do you never wear normal jeans?” I blurted.
He glanced at my slacks, and then the flats I’d chosen when I would’ve rather had Toms or Sketchers. Hunter’s fashion assistant needed a reality check.
“You feel too dressed up.”
“Very astute, Mr. Carlisle. You’ve solved the riddle.”
The corners of his mouth tweaked upward. He turned back to his computer, closed it, and then slipped it into his computer bag. He stood, dropping his phone into his pocket. “Shall we go? We’ll do the errand first, then you can take me shopping and dress us both like street urchins, if you want.”
“Street urchins…?” My scowl etched more firmly in my face. I stood. “I didn’t see anything to pack up all the clothes. How are we supposed to get them out of here?”
“The assistant will take care of it.” He slung his computer over his shoulder and came toward me.
A flash of warmth stole my breath away. I reached out for him before I knew what I was doing, just wanting to touch him. His lips touched mine softly. He opened my mouth with his, flicking his tongue in playfully. His arms came around me, holding me tight. He had my toes curling right before he backed off a bit.
“Let’s go,” he said softly, loosening his hold.
“What’s the hurry?” I ran my hand up his chest.
“This situation is temporary. I want to figure out something…a little more permanent.” He kissed me again before stepping back.
Not knowing what he meant, but completely on board, I half stumbled toward the door before I realized what I was doing. “Right.” I glanced around, feeling like I was forgetting something. I was about to leave a hotel room without anything in my hands. It just felt weird. “What about my clothes from yesterday?”