Page 26 of King of Desire

My head spins as I consider what sort of cost Triston accrued to have me pose as his date in my new administrative duties. It’s crazy.

Then again, I see his point. With me at his side, he needs to be neither attentive, nor even considerate.

The dress is placed over my head, three women making certain the fabric doesn’t wrinkle and my hair isn’t mussed as the silk glides over my body.

Then, one of them zips me in.

“Oh,” Betty, the hair stylist gushes. “You look amazing! You could be in a magazine.”

I turn toward the full-length mirror and gasp at the woman who stares back at me. I barely look like me. Smoky makeup makes my eyes look even bigger, while a blush highlights my natural cheekbones, and deep red lipstick compliments the dress and my natural skin tones.

My hair flows down my back in loose, sexy waves, looking effortless and glamorous all at once.

The dress hugs every curve, making my waist look tiny and the draped fabric on the top giving me extra bust. The slit up the side shows off the shapeliness of my thigh and…

“Wow.” Triston’s masculine rumble pulls my gaze from my own reflection. I turn to see Triston in the doorway, looking breathtakingly dashing in a fitted tuxedo.

“Wow yourself,” I say and then feel my cheeks heat, the blush that is always under the surface in his company instantly coming out.

He gives me a one-sided grin and then strides into the room. “Is she done, ladies?”

“Done,” Betty chirps.

“Done,” the others repeat.

The makeup artist presses a tube of lipstick into my hand. “Like I showed you, just inside the edges of the liner and blend.”

I nod as the four of them scurry toward the door, leaving me and Triston alone.

I draw in a deep breath, the bra digging a bit as I inhale. Note to self, no deep breathing. But as my gaze turns back to my reflection, I have to confess, the result is totally worth it. I’ve never seen myself like this. “I’m not even certain I recognize myself.”

He chuckles. “I recognize you, Honeyeh.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t answer. Instead, I watch his approach through the mirror, noting a black box under his arm.

The last time he carried something toward me, it was the garment bag with this dress. “What is that?”

A smile curves his lips. “The dress, shoes, and undergarments are yours to keep. A perk. But before I show you what is in the box, I want to warn you that these are only a loan.”

But my eyes grow wider. What could he possibly have in a box that size that would be a loan?

I turn around, the question shining in my eyes as he holds the box out and then snaps open the lid.

A gasp falls from my lips as the light catches a set of diamonds and rubies. A necklace, earrings, and a triple-string bracelet. “You cannot mean for me to wear those.”

“I do,” he answers. “Turn back around.”

“Triston. I could not possibly borrow these, not even for a night. Are those real?” My whole body trembles as I lean a bit closer, inspecting them.

He laughs then. “They are. I have excellent credit with a local jeweler who was kind enough to loan these to me for the evening.”

And then he sets the box down on the dressing table, removing the necklace first. Moving the necklace catches even more light, and I tremble as I carefully lift my hair. He steps up behind me, close enough that I can feel his body heat, as he places the necklace on my bare skin, his fingertips brushing my neck as he does the clasp.

My entire body responds to his touch, my skin incredibly sensitive as I break out in goose pimples at the light brush of his fingers.

But even his touch can’t distract me from the glittering image of the rubies and diamonds around my neck. I have no idea what a necklace like this might be worth, but my guess is it would pay for a liver transplant. “My goodness,” I whisper, brushing the large center ruby with my middle finger.

“It looks stunning.” And then the necklace is forgotten as his lips brush the bare skin of my collarbone.

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