voice sounded from outside the cubicle. ‘May I see the dress on you?’
Lally was done. She’d simply been standing there staring mutely at the transformation that had appeared in the mirror. She didn’t feel much like a mannequin; she felt like a girl in a gorgeous dress.
‘I’m not sure if this…’ Lally put her hand on the door latch, unlocked it and pulled it open.
‘You…’ The single word trailed away as Cam’s gaze slowly travelled from her head to her toes and back again.
‘It seems to be the right size.’ Lally resisted the urge to fidget with the hem or twitch the fabric over her hips. The dress fitted like a glove and flowed over her curves in all the right ways.
‘It’s perf—That is, I’m sure it’ll be fine for our purpose, to help me figure out what the heroine in the story would wear.’ Cam gave one slow blink and his voice deepened as he held out his hand. ‘Put these on with it, please.’
A drop-necklace and set of dangling earrings were settled into the palm of her hand, and her fingers were curled closed over them. ‘I slipped out to the jewellery store beside this one while you changed into the dress.’
‘Okay, well, I’ll put them on.’ Their fingers brushed as Lally made sure she had a proper grip on the items.
Her heart was pounding. It was so stupid, but she fell silent as she withdrew her hand. Had Cam’s hand moved away quite slowly, as though he might have been almost reluctant to lose the contact?
‘There’s a bag too.’ His voice was deep and he cleared his throat before he went on. ‘I’ll give that to you when you come out.’
Lally could have put the necklace and earrings on in front of him, but she was rather glad for a moment to herself. She had to pull herself together.
The earrings were simple gold with a pearl drop that bumped against her neck when she moved her head. The matching pearl-drop necklace nestled between her breasts. It would have been difficult to find a set to create a better foil for the dress.
No, Lally, it suits you and the dress perfectly.
Lally tucked her hair behind her ears to showcase the earrings. They really needed an upswept hairstyle; so did the dress. Lally took another proper look in the mirror.
The dress was deep red with a crossover V-neckline that cupped her breasts. It was deceptively simple, clinging in beautifully cut lines until it fell in loose folds to just below her knees. The hem was handkerchief-cut and swirled as she moved.
Cameron had dressed her the way she would have dressed herself six years ago. No; he’d dressed her the way that eighteen-year-old would have dressed six years on if she hadn’t hidden herself in bland colours.
She hadn’t hidden herself. She’d outgrown colours.
Have you, Lally? Because you look great in this, vibrant and alive and ready to take on the world. Ready to participate in the world, not avoid it from within the heart of your family.
Oh, this was silly! Lally was helping Cam; they were doing research. She wanted to get on with that and leave these other thoughts behind her. He’d look at all this, and it might look good on her, but it would help him see how he wanted to dress his heroine. He might put his character in faux fur, or shiny pink plastic, or dress her in blue velvet.
Lally gathered her other clothes into her hands, flung the door open and stepped out. She joined Cam at the service counter where he’d just finished paying for his transaction. ‘I’m ready to get on with the rest of our research.’
And that was what this was truly all about.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘THE hairdresser is next.’ Cam made this announcement and led Lally towards the hotel salon. He pressed a small sparkly bag into her hands as they walked. His other hand held a bag the saleswoman had kindly supplied for Lally’s day clothes. ‘In the scene, the female character would make out that she wanted to be showered with as much “spoiling” as she could get.’
‘And your male lead would be determined to do that, to keep her suspicions at bay about his real motives. They’ll be deep in their false roles.’ Lally took the small bag; she couldn’t take her eyes from his face. The grooves at the sides of his mouth were deep. His face had the kind of stillness that concealed attraction and awareness.
Though she knew she shouldn’t, though there were a thousand reasons why it would be better if she failed to react to this at all, Lally’s gaze locked with his. Her fingers closed about the short strap of the bag, she drew a deep, deep breath and admitted, to herself at least, that she was equally attracted to Cam. That had to stop right now. They had to get the fun back and avoid these other inappropriate responses to each other. It was probably just the atmosphere getting to both of them, anyway.
Somehow Lally got through the appointment with the hair stylist. It helped that Cam sat on a lounge in the waiting area and buried his nose in a magazine.
Half an hour later Lally got up from the chair with her curls artfully drawn away from her face in a high pony-tail with just a few tendrils trailing down her back.
‘Shoes.’ Cameron murmured the single word as his gaze tracked over her hair and the vulnerable nape of her neck.
‘You’ll have to decide about your heroine’s hair,’ Lally said, and hoped the desperate edge couldn’t be heard in her tone. ‘It’s probably ice-blonde, straight and swept up in a bun away from her model-gorgeous face.’
‘Uh, yes. Perhaps.’ Cam drew her to a shoe shop.
Lally’s transformation to Cinderella-dressed-for-the-ball reached its final moment as they stepped through the door. She spotted the sandals immediately. They were third row down on an elegant stand, they had their own name—Grace After Midnight—and she had to have them.
Six inch stiletto gold-and-black heels; tiny criss-cross gold-and-black strips across the instep. Elegant ankle straps. All of Lally’s sensible thoughts and cautions disintegrated for that moment of time. She forgot the purpose of the night, forgot everything—well, not Cam, but he did take second place to the shoes for a minute.
‘I’ll pay for these myself.’ They were in her hands before she finished speaking the words, on her feet moments later. They fit like a dream; these shoes were meant to be.
Lally had her credit card and there were fifty dollars in the pocket of the skirt that had gone into the dress shop bag with her other clothes. She held her hand out to Cam. He came back into focus, and so did his grin that held outright amusement—was that a hint of enchantment?
Of course it isn’t, Lally. It so totally isn’t! ‘I need the bag, please.’
‘No. I’ve got this.’ Cam paid for the shoes and hustled her out of the store.
‘You don’t understand. I had to have them, you see.’ How did she explain the compulsion that took a pair of shoes from stage prop to girl’s best friend? And how that meant she couldn’t let him pay for her pure indulgence.
‘And I’d have paid that much or more for any choice that you made.’ With those
