The VIP Room(168)

Her heart pounded as she slowly, carefully lifted the lid. Silver tissue greeted her, crinkling when she peeled back the multiple layers. She caught her breath at her first look. Embroidered blue velvet peeked out of the tissue. She took a deep breath, and lifted the gown out.

It was stunning.

I’ll never be able to wear this. What was he thinking?

She shoved down the negative thoughts, ran into her bedroom and stopped in front of the mirror, holding the gown up.

“Oh, my God.” Embroidered vines and flowers trailed down the bodice of what was obviously a halter top, spreading out over the full skirt. A thick band of midnight blue satin joined the two, a double vine running along each edge. It was daring, bold, and so not her.

She pulled her oversized sweatshirt off, glad she’d already showered and left her bra off. There was no way in hell she’d be able to wear one, and her skin was smooth from scrubbing it like a maniac. But she figured, for one night, she could show off her hourglass figure. A room filled with strangers would only make stepping out easier. Having Marcus Hawkins at her side made it dangerous. After hiding from her feelings for months, she was terrified, but the need to break free of her past eclipsed the nerves already fluttering through her.

Besides, they’d all be staring at Marcus, and not even notice her.

She slipped out of her sweat pants, dug the lacy white thong she bought on a whim out of her underwear drawer, slipped it on, and stepped into the gown.

The heavy, luxurious velvet slid over her skin. She tied a temporary bow on the halter, adjusted the thick waistband, then pulled up the zipper, blinking in surprise when it settled around her small waist. Like it had been made for her. She bent over, loosened the halter, and adjusted her breasts before she pulled the velvet ties up and straightened, making a secure knot. Swallowing, she turned around and faced the mirror.

Her skin looked pale, and almost—luminous. She had always liked herself in blue, but this—God, this color made her glow. The halter gave her more cleavage than she’d ever had, the plunging V almost too daring. As long as she didn’t bend over, or breathe too deeply, she might be all right.

The skirt skimmed over her full hips, draping beautifully. Every time she moved the silk embroidery shimmered. She let out a laugh and twirled, watching the skirt bell out around her. When Marcus had told her he would send her a gown, she didn’t know what to expect. But this—it felt like a dream, and she looked…beautiful.

“Yes, you do,” she whispered to her wide-eyed self. The simple makeup and clear lip gloss played up her features just enough. Tonight, the gown was her bold statement. She wasn’t even going to wear earrings. But her hair—she needed to do something with the long, curly mess. “Upsweep—that will take care of you.”

She moved into her tiny bathroom, grabbed a handful of pins out of the blue glass jar on her counter, and twisted her hair up, leaving a few tendrils to frame her face. Nodding at herself, she had just enough time to slip into her black ballet flats before the doorbell rang.

Her heart started pounding again, and she pressed one hand to her stomach. This time it would be Marcus at the door, or more likely, his driver, coming to whisk her away to what could be the best night of her life, or the most disastrous.

She took a semi-deep breath, picking up her small black bag as she walked to the door, and glanced through the peephole. Marcus stood there himself, drool worthy in a tux that was obviously tailored for him. He was clean shaven, not wearing his glasses. That made him less approachable. Part of her appreciated that, since it would make the evening easier if she didn’t feel the need to touch him every other second. The other part wished for the sexy, scruffy nerd who left her flustered every time he looked at her.

Marcus raised his head and smiled, like he knew she was there, staring at him. She jerked back, fought to calm herself, and opened the door.

“For a second there, I thought you had chickened out…” His voice faded as he studied her. He looked—stunned. “Turn around.” His voice was rough, demanding. Leah obeyed, sure she had offended him before the evening even started. “Good God.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve been hiding yourself quite well, Miss Frane. I knew there was a luscious figure under all those layers, but I had no idea. You will be the surprise tonight. Shall we?”

He held out his arm, and Leah took it, still numb from his comment.

Did he call her luscious? Marcus Hawkins, with more money than God and any woman he could possibly want just a smile away? She had to be delirious. That was it—too much excitement, too little food.

She walked with him to the elevator, and started to slide her hand off his arm. He gripped her fingers with his free hand and held her there, his dark blue eyes studying her under the dim lights. It took all her control to breathe normally, to act like having a tall, gorgeous man loom over her in the elevator was normal.

When they reached the white stretch limo, he ignored the driver and helped her in himself. Leah refused to be disappointed when he sat in the seat opposite her. This was not a date. He may have called it a date, but it was a work function. She had to keep reminding herself, every second if necessary.

Marcus didn’t talk at all on the way to the museum where the event was being held. Instead he stared out the window, like she wasn’t even there. That kind of behavior would make it incredibly easy to keep from making a fool of herself.

She leaned back and decided to just enjoy the butter soft leather against her back, the smooth ride. When the driver pulled up in front, Marcus waited for him to open the door, sitting still while the driver helped Leah out of the limo.