THE TYCOON'S REBEL BRIDE(42)

what I’m wearing out of here tonight?”

Sadie grinned. “It’s the perfect way past your security guys. I made sure they saw

me come in, and honestly, who could miss this?” she said as she slid her hands

suggestively down the curves of her body.

Isabella cracked up. “No false modesty for you.”

Sadie winked at her then continued on. “We’ll dress you like me and you’ll

sashay out of here. No one will know that I’m still up here. I’ll give you a good head start

and then I’ll get ready for the party and leave, looking nothing like the blond bombshell

who arrived earlier.”

“Well, what’s the worst that can happen?” Isabella asked with a shrug. “We get

caught and Reynolds throws another fit. I’m sure Theron is too busy with his new fiancée

to give a damn about my whereabouts.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sadie crowed. “Let’s do it!”



She was certifiably insane to have agreed to this. Isabella took a deep breath as

the elevator stopped at the lobby level, flipped a long lock of the blond hair over her

shoulder and waited for the doors to open.

The getup that Sadie had poured her into was many things. Modest wasn’t one of

them. And while Isabella didn’t mind displaying her assets to her best advantage, this

bordered on obscene.

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THE TYCOON’S REBEL BRIDE

59

MAYA BANKS

SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1944

THE ANETAKIS TYCOONS

The heels of her thigh-high boots clicked on the marble floor as she hurried for

the exit. Her shorts were a slightly more expensive version of a denim Daisy Duke style,

and they dipped low in front, showing her navel and more skin.

And her top. Not even a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader showed more cleavage.

But as Sadie said, no one would bother looking at her face. Not when so much

else of her was on display.

She wobbled her way toward a waiting taxi and got in. As he pulled away, she

supplied the address that Sadie had provided her. He didn’t even blink an eye, and who

could blame him with the way she was dressed? It amused her to think he might have

assumed she was at the hotel for “business” purposes.

Nervousness tickled her stomach as they maneuvered through traffic. By the time

the cab pulled up to the back entrance of the club, sweat beaded her forehead.

She sat for a moment staring out her window until the driver cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” she muttered. She shoved the appropriate money over the seat and then

got out. “Well, here we go,” she said, as she tentatively walked to the door.

The hallway just inside the door was cloaked in darkness. A good thing. Even

though Sadie had assured her that no one would notice the slight differences in the girls,

this charade still made Isabella extremely nervous.

She was wearing so much makeup, that even her overbearing security team hadn’t

been able to tell it was her.

When she got to the door simply marked “girls,” she eased inside. There was a

flurry of activity, and no one paid her any mind. Another girl bumped into her as she

walked past, and Isabella shied away, afraid of getting too close.

“Hey, Sadie,” another girl called. “We weren’t sure you were coming. You’re up

after Angel, so you better hurry and get ready.”

Isabella’s stomach dropped, and she swallowed back her panic. She could do this.

No one knew it was her. While she wasn’t the expert that Sadie was, she could still move

well, and Sadie had spent the afternoon teaching her the necessary act.

She smiled and nodded in the girl’s direction and took a spot at Sadie’s dressing

station to check her makeup and to make sure her wig was securely in place.

When she caught her reflection in the mirror, all that she could think was how sad

her eyes looked. No matter how made-up her face was, how perfect the hair, the eyes told

the story. And the story was that she’d lost the one man she’d hoped to spend the rest of

her life with.

More to have something to do than any real need to repair her makeup, she slowly

applied more lipstick, watching as her lips glistened blood red. Mechanically she brushed

the mascara wand over her eyelashes, elongating her already dark lashes.

But still, her green eyes stared lifelessly back at her.

“Sadie, you’re up in five,” a male voice barked from the door. “Get a move on.”

Isabella pushed herself jerkily from her chair and spared one last glance in the

mirror. She looked scared to death.

Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she adjusted her clothing, plumped up her