The Billionaire and the Virgin (Billionaires and Bridesmaids #1)(35)
And . . . she kind of loved them. She was such a cliché—a girl that adored shoes. But so what? How often did she find someone that wasn’t terrified of her height and didn’t want her to wear flats? He liked how tall she was. And she liked the shoes.
So she slid them on and nearly swooned at how good they felt. The leather practically caressed the arches of her feet. Impulsively, she took a picture of her feet in the shoes and texted it to him.
Perfect, he sent back a moment later.
Is this part of your seduction plan? she asked him.
Might be. I’m pretty good at this sort of thing, huh?
She had to admit that yes, he was rather good at it after all. And she was really, really looking forward to their date tonight.
So when do I get to see you again? he sent back.
She gazed down at her gorgeous, impractical shoes. Then, impulsively, she texted back, How about now?
Chapter Fourteen
Rob wanted to meet her that afternoon, but he suggested they meet at a gazebo in the resort gardens. Definitely more romantic than the lobby, Marjorie thought with a smile, and agreed to meet him there in a half hour. She was humming as she changed into something a little sexier for her date—a dark navy slip dress that she normally wore with a sweater and leggings—and put on her sparkly heels. She felt rather pretty, and hoped that Rob thought she was, too.
The path out to the gardens was on the far side of the Turtle pool and lounge. The resort had several pools, but the Turtle one was popular with couples instead of families due to its multiple hot tubs. She glanced at it casually as she passed by and was startled when a man with a microphone and two guys with cameras seemed to emerge from the bushes and approach her.
“Hey, doll,” the guy with the microphone said. “Tell us your name, sugar!”
Marjorie hesitated, alarmed. “Not your doll or sugar,” she told him, and tried to sidestep the men.
“You’re looking sexy today,” the guy with the microphone continued, following her as she tried to go around them. “I don’t suppose you want to earn a little extra cash?”
Her jaw dropped. “W-what?”
“That’s right, baby! Tits or GTFO!” He waved a handful of money at her. “Show us your stuff and we’ll reward you.”
She stared at the man, gaping, and then at the cameras. Then, with a gasp, she ran as fast as her platform heels would carry her, heading for the gardens and the gazebo.
“Guess she’s not interested,” the man with the microphone called. “Your loss, sweetheart!”
Show these horrible men her breasts? She was going to be sick! Horror made her rush, and her ankles protested as she stumbled down the path. She wanted to head back into the resort and hide, but the men were blocking the path. She was pretty sure she heard them laughing, too. Humiliation burned in her breast, and by the time she found the gazebo, she was nearly in tears. She barely spotted a man in a black, collared shirt and jeans, sporting sunglasses. That must have been Rob. She stumbled as she approached him, twisting her ankle and practically falling into his arms.
“Marjorie?” Rob asked. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
She leaned against him for a moment, relieved, and winced at the pain in her ankle. “I-I—”
“Here, sit down,” he told her, gently leading her to the steps of the gazebo and helping her get seated. “Are you okay? You look upset. And you shouldn’t run in those shoes.” A hint of a smile curved his handsome face. “If you wanted something to jog in, I would have sent you something more appropriate.”
She couldn’t even laugh at his teasing. Instead, she felt the insane urge to burst into tears. Marjorie clutched at the front of her dress and shook her head, unable to speak.
“Marjorie?” Rob’s voice was concerned. He sat next to her and took her hand in his, squeezed it. “You gotta tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart. I don’t like this.”
The endearment coming from his lips reminded her of the horrible man with the microphone, and she shuddered. “There was a man. With a microphone. He—he tried to get me to take my top off. For money! In front of cameras. And when I said no, they . . . laughed at me.”
Rob was silent.
His lack of response just made her feel worse. “I’m sorry,” Marjorie said. “Maybe I’m overreacting. I just feel . . . accosted. That’s all. Like they thought if they pressured me I’d take my top off. It was horrible.”
He squeezed her hand. “You do not apologize,” he told her in a firm, angry voice. “I’m not upset at you. Just the situation. I can’t believe those jackasses came after you.”
She shook her head and held his hand tighter. “I’ll be okay. I just—”
“No,” he said, getting to his feet. “You wait right here. I’m going to go have a talk with them.”
“No, Rob—”
“I’m handling it, Marjorie.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stalked down the path, his steps clearly furious.
She blinked in surprise as he disappeared, her awful feeling of distress giving way to a weird sort of pleasure. Was this what it was like when a guy got defensive over you? Protective? God, it felt way too good. Addictive, even. She rubbed her arms and then hugged her knees, waiting for Rob to return.