for us to talk.’
Talk? With that hot, melting look in his eyes and the way he said the name Candy – as if he was already thinking about treating her like a sweet. Oh, yes, he wanted to do a lot more than talk, and for the life of her Chloe couldn’t control the rush of pleasure that throbbed deep inside her body. Couldn’t control the unbidden desire to have him kiss her all over.
This was the look she had always wanted to see in his eyes, had imagined that she had seen on prom night, and even though she told herself he was a rat who played women any way that he wanted to, her ego loved the attention. Loved that he found the new her attractive.
‘Put Ms Lane’s name on the guest list, Noelle.’ His gaze didn’t waver from hers as he issued his instructions to Miss LA, and Chloe nearly gasped at his arrogance.
Then without thinking too much she let her middle finger graze the inside of his wrist, enjoying the heady sensation of power that came over her when his pupils expanded and his nostrils flared. Oh yes, she could already imagine the sense of revenge she would feel when she brought Mr I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-skin Hunter down a peg or two.
She forced a simpering smile to her lips. ‘What’s your room number?’
The overhead halogen lighting made his green eyes glow like precious jewels. ‘Four two six. Nine pm. Don’t be late.’
Don’t be late.
Arrogant jock. She had a good mind not to turn up and she fumed as she stalked back towards the hotel entrance, only slowing her pace as she noticed people starting to glance at her sideways. It wasn’t as if the hounds of hell were really after her. Just her own oversized insecurities and a deep desire for validation.
But how was she really going to pull this off? For a start she had nothing to wear that could be considered remotely alluring. She pictured the contents of her mostly work-related wardrobe. This skirt was the shortest and cutest thing she owned. The rest was made up mostly of tailored suits or jeans. Would jeans be enough to hold his interest?
Only if they’re so tight they leave nothing to the imagination.
Her lips twisted in disgust. What was she thinking? She’d been carried away by a moment of high fantasy and now… now reality had returned with a thump. A thump that told her she was still just as attracted to him as she ever was and that he was just as big a rat as he ever was. How, during their weekly tutoring sessions she’d managed to convince herself otherwise was still impossible to comprehend. ‘You always see the best in people, Chlo,’ her father used to say when she was a child. He’d said it as if it was a virtue but Chloe wasn’t so sure. Wasn’t that how she’d been blindsided by Liam’s mean trick in the first place?
And now you’re going to put yourself in Liam Hunter’s clutches again? Why not throw yourself under a bus while you’re at it, her brain counselled, it might be quicker.
No. She shook her head as she stopped in front of an exquisite boutique that looked like it would max out a black Amex card if she just walked through the door. No, if she went through with this crazy idea she had two things in her favour. Liam didn’t know who she was and her heart wasn’t involved in the slightest.
Noticing a beautiful pale pink halter-style gown in amongst the couture handbags, perfume and jewellery, Chloe found herself inside the boutique and fingering the exquisitely silky fabric. The dress was cinched in at the waist and then looked like it fell to the floor. Pity she didn’t have her colour swatch given to her by her aunt with the approved colours for her. Not that she’d ever have the confidence to wear a dress like that. She was way too tall.
‘It will be perfect with your hair and skin. Not to mention your height.’
Turning, Chloe expected to see some deferential shop assistant about to do a hard sell on her, when she found herself face to face with current London ‘It’ girl and wild child of the Chatsfield clan – Cara Chatsfield.
‘You’re Cara Chatsfield,’ Chloe almost stammered with her shock. ‘Sorry, that was truly gauche of me.’
Cara laughed, her voice light and musical. ‘Not at all. It’s nice to stand next to someone taller than me for a change. That dress can either be dressed up or down depending on the shoes you choose.’
Chloe glanced at her Audrey Hepburnesque black ballet flats.
‘Probably not those.’ Cara laughed. ‘Go on, try it on.’
Chloe glanced at the dress dubiously. ‘I think I’m too tall.’
‘Nonsense. It’s made for a tall girl,’ Cara said. ‘And that colour will bring out the strawberry tones in your hair. Is that natural by the way?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now I’m truly jealous. Go on. The designer is fabulous.’
As was the price tag most likely but Chloe did as the famous model bid, wondering if perhaps she’d stepped down a rabbit hole or something. Or perhaps she was just asleep in her bed and this was all just a weird dream.
Wishful thinking, she thought somewhat miserably.
But when she appeared with the dress on Chloe had to admit that it was dazzling.
‘What did I tell you?’
Cara stood beside her in the full-length mirror wearing a very daring and very short electric blue strapless dress with gladiator sandals. The outfit should have looked garish. It only looked fabulous.
‘Are you going to wear it somewhere special?’ Cara asked.
Chloe hesitated and then thought what the hell; everything about this day felt surreal anyway. ‘Liam Hunter’s party tonight.’
‘Oooh my.’ Cara’s eyes twinkled with devilment. ‘He will keel over when he sees you in that. Are you dating him?’
‘No.’
There must have been something in her tone because Cara placed a manicured hand on her arm. ‘There’s a story there. Why don’t you tell it to me over at the salon where you can have your hair and makeup done as well.’
‘Hair and makeup?’
‘Sara, be a love and put both outfits on my account.’
‘You can’t possibly pay for my dress,’ Chloe spluttered.
‘Yes I can, my father owns the hotel.’ Cara grinned mischievously and Chloe wondered if anyone could resist her when she did that. ‘Come on. Say yes, I’m in dire need of cheering up right now. What was your name by the way?’
‘Chloe, but–’
‘Great.’
Linking her arm through Chloe’s, Cara had herded her out of the boutique and across the wide hall into a discrete-looking salon before she had a chance to blink, let alone object. She’d leave a cheque for the dress at reception later, she decided.
