The Tycoon's Rebel Bride (The Anetakis Tycoons #2)(22)

He nodded even as he relayed her wishes to the driver.

The elevator opened into the lobby where they were joined by Davison and Maxwell. She halted in front of them, took one look and shook her head.

“Is there a problem?” Reynolds asked.

“Look, if you guys are going to shadow me, I’d prefer you didn’t look like something out of a mafia movie. Not to mention, I’d rather not broadcast the fact that I’m going around with three bodyguards. That will only make me more conspicuous.”

“What do you suggest then?” Maxwell muttered. He didn’t look entirely pleased with her assessment.

“Well, you could lose the shades. They make you look like secret service wannabes.”

Maxwell and Davison both removed the sunglasses, and Davison glared at her. She grinned in return.

“Now get rid of the tie and the jacket.”

All three men shook their heads. “The jackets stay.” Davison spoke up for the first time. To get his point across, he pulled the lapel, opening the jacket enough that she could see the pistol secured by a shoulder holster.

Her mouth fell open. She wasn’t a screaming ninny about guns. She well understood the need for them. She just hadn’t realized that Theron was that concerned over her safety. For a moment she wavered. Maybe breaking away wasn’t such a great idea. But then in her mind, having three hulking men made her much more noticeable than if she zipped to the department store and back for her dress.

“Okay, definitely leave the jackets,” she muttered.

They walked outside where the car had pulled around. Davison got into the front while Maxwell walked around to the opposite passenger door and climbed in. Reynolds opened the passenger door closest to her and waited for her to get in.

She faked exasperation and slapped her forehead with her open palm. “Wait right here. I forgot my purse,” she said.

“I’ll get it for you. You get in,” Reynolds said.

But she was already striding toward the hotel entrance. She turned back holding up a finger. “I won’t be a minute.”

Reynolds started after her, but she quickly rounded the corner and ducked into the men’s bathroom. He’d most definitely search the women’s room when he figured out she’d disappeared, but hopefully he wouldn’t think to look in the men’s.

She cracked the door just enough that she could look out. Reynolds hurried by and then he barked into a small receiver that hung from his shirt.

Seconds later, Maxwell and Davison ran by the bathroom, their faces grim. She slipped out with no hesitation and ran for the hotel entrance, hoping they didn’t look back in the time it took her to get to a taxi.

She slid into the cab at the front of the line and offered the driver double his fee if he got the hell out fast. Only too happy to comply, he peeled out of the entryway and rocketed in front of two other cars. Horns sounded and angry shouts filled the air but the driver shook his fist and then grinned.

“Where you going, miss?”

She glanced up to see him staring at her in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not completely sure,” she admitted. “I need a dress. A really gorgeous dress that’ll make a man drool at a hundred yards.”

“I know just the place,” he said, nodding his head.

Not completely willing to forego any precautionary measures, she asked if he’d wait while she shopped, meter running of course.

He dropped her off in front of the upscale department store then gave her his cell number.

“Give me a ring when you’re checking out, and I’ll pull up and pick you up here,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said as she climbed out.

Making sure to keep in a clump of people, she entered the store. She wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to safety. She avoided corners, anything off the beaten path and stayed in plain sight of the security cameras. When it was time for her to try on her dresses, she had the extremely helpful saleslady accompany her to the dressing room. After all she needed an opinion.

After trying on six dresses, she found the one. It slipped over her body, hugging every curve like a second skin. The genius of the dress was in its simplicity. There weren’t any ruffles or frills, nothing to take away from the shape of her body. It was sheer with spaghetti straps, and it fell two inches above her knee. With a pair of killer heels, she’d have the men eating out of her hand.

She frowned as she realized it didn’t really matter what the other men did. Theron was the only one who mattered, and it was anyone’s guess how he would react.

She stepped out of the dressing room to show the saleslady. Her entire face lit up.

“It’s perfect, Ms. Caplan. Just perfect. With the right shoes, you’ll be a knockout.”

Isabella smiled. “Would you happen to have a pair of black shoes in a three-inch heel that would go well with this dress?”

The saleslady smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, Isabella twirled and glanced down her legs at the shoes. The heels were basically toothpicks, but they did look gorgeous on her.

Not content to sell her an outrageously expensive dress—the shoes were nearly as expensive—the saleslady also insisted she accessorize with just the right jewelry—and handbag of course.

Two hours after she’d ditched her security team, Isabella settled into her cab and headed back to the hotel. When they pulled up, she collected her bags and leaned up to pay the driver.