“It’s…nice.” I could barely keep myself from gaping.
I looked like a different woman; I felt like a different woman.
“You look beautiful, Eva.” Trace spoke low and husky from the doorway of my bedroom.
I turned to him, my eyes meeting his after he assessed me carefully. My body started to burn beneath his heated stare.
“Thanks. But I don’t really think I need this many clothes.” I nearly tripped on my matching high heels as I stepped back from the mirror to face him.
I’d been hooked up with a complete wardrobe. Claudette was taking back the items she hadn’t liked; unfortunately, she liked far too many of them.
Trace looked at Claudette. “Thank you. I think you’re finished here.”
The older woman nodded and started to walk toward the door, skirting around Trace. “I’ll have my staff pick up the equipment and the clothes that weren’t appropriate later, Mr. Walker.” She left hurriedly, knowing she had been dismissed.
Trace lifted his brow. “The clothes are part of the deal.”
I propped my hands on my hips. “Not this many of them. Where am I going to wear this kind of dress?”
He shrugged. “Parties. I have a corporate Christmas party to attend this year, and I need you to be there. I told you that this needs to be believable.”
My heart raced at the thought of being on Trace’s arm for any event. Just being in his company made me edgy. “You still haven’t told me why.”
I let go of my earlier anger, telling myself I needed to treat this as a job.
Trace moved into my bedroom - which was twice the size of my studio apartment, I might add - and sat down on the oversized ledge of the window seat.
I toed off my heels and moved to the bed. I sat in the middle of the enormous beige and floral quilt and crossed my legs, pulling the skirt over them. I could sense he was going to tell me something important, and I stayed silent.
Trace propped a strong shoulder against the wall. “You know that your mother and my father died in a plane crash?”
I nodded. I knew how my mother had met her demise soon after her wedding to Trace’s father.
“My youngest brother was on board that private jet, too, and he survived…just barely. He was burned and scarred, and even with plastic surgery, he still has scars inside and out.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “I was supposed to be on that plane with them, but I had final exams. I was graduating from college. I had to leave as soon as the ceremony was over. So did my middle brother, Sebastian. Dane was the only one whose classes and exams had ended because he was at a different school, so he stayed a few more days.”
Oh, God. My stomach knotted at the thought that Trace could be dead instead of so very much alive. I gaped at him, still able to feel his vitality and energy vibrating through the bedroom. I could also feel his tension. “It bothers you that you weren’t on that plane. You feel guilty.”
Trace didn’t show his hand with his expression, but I was close enough to see a look of pain flash briefly in his eyes.
“I don’t wish myself dead,” he snapped. “But the fact that it should have been me did cross my mind.”
He was so responsible, so damned ready to take on the entire world. “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
His fists clenched and he shot me an irritated stare. “How do I know that? Maybe I could have gotten Dane out of the wreckage quicker, maybe I could have prevented the surgeries he’s had, so damn many that I’ve lost count.”
My heart bled for the man who thought he could prevent all the hurts in the world. I’d learned that I had to pick my battles. He obviously hadn’t. “And maybe you’d be dead. Maybe you would have blocked people from getting him out. Everybody else on the plane died that day, including the pilot. Do you think you’re invincible?” I shot back at him, trying to make him see what was most likely true: whether he’d been on that plane or not wouldn’t have changed the outcome.
His lips twitched, probably because of my annoyed tone, but I wasn’t certain.
“So you think my dead body would have gotten him dead, too?”
I shrugged. “It might have gotten in the way.”
“Comforting thought.” His tone was sarcastic, but there was a trace of amusement there, too.
Not wanting to think about him not being alive, I prompted, “Go on.”
Trace released a low, resigned sigh. “Dane has been through a lot, emotionally and physically. He’s recently started dating a woman who I’m well acquainted with. She’s seeing him to get back at me, and she’s hoping I’ll take her back. I ended our association over a year ago because she wasn’t satisfied with just me. She was bed hopping with every wealthy man in Colorado.”