Page 64 of Dominance

“You designed this?”

“I dabble. Studied fashion and design in Paris, actually.”

Instantly I snap to meet her gaze, my eyes lighting up. “Non! Où avez-vous étudié?Where did you study?!”

“Je suis diplômé de l’institut François de la mode, et toi?” Sandra grins, sitting up at my question and leaning over the desk.

“New Hampshire University,” I say blandly, “But I did the majority of my education at HEC in Paris.”

“Je suis ravi! It’s so nice to meet someone else that I can?—”

“Exprimez-vous?”

“Oui! Yes, someone I can express myself with!”

Adriano clears his throat, grinning lightly. “Excusez-moi, but my French isn’t quite that good.”

“Sorry,” I giggle, blushing as Sandra and I catch eyes again. It’s stupid. Getting so excited over nothing.

“Don’t apologize. And correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve gotten so much done already, and the two of you really seem like you would get even more done without me here.”

“Cop out!” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder.

“Walk me out?” he asks, standing.

“Yes, my darling.” I follow him to the entry, waving my hands for him to stop. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, playing wingman for you with your new friend. This is right about the time I would move along when my brothers no longer needed my services…”

“What if I still need yourservices…”

Halfway out the door, Adri pulls me close suddenly, my heart skipping a beat as his powerful arm encircles my waist. The kiss he lays on me has my head whirling, exploding into stars behind my eyes.

“Take all the time you want. I’ll see you at home later.” His grin is real. Full. And he’s right. I’m having a blast with Sandra.

“What if she … it’s her job.”

“No, her job is to sell you the moon. Not fly over it with you gushing about France and everything else you have in common.”

Maybe …

“Gloria.”

“Yeah?”

“Have. Fun.”

And just like that I feel a weight lifted, like I’m not being forced to be married. Like I have a real fiancé who’s looking out for my interests. Whogetsme.

Turning back to the table, I take a breath. Sandra has my color samples lined up, my flower arrangements laid out, and the dress that I am almost certain I must have pinned and noted with changes to suit me. It’s perfect. It’s starting to become real.

Best of all, the woman smiling at me over her glass of bubbly, wagging her eyebrows at our display of affection, might actually be, dare I say it, a new friend?

12

ADRIANO

The next few weeks fly by.

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