Who Wants to Marry A Billionaire?(32)



Nina sighed. Shopping. It was one of the things that Daniel loved best. Between Miami and Panama City she’d managed to fend off the weird watch he wanted to buy her, but broke down and accepted the Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume just to get him to stop. She could only imagine what it would be now: a surfboard for two people who couldn’t surf, or some cheesy beach towel he thought was hilarious. This was the side of Daniel that if left without proper supervision, resulted in embarrassing incidents that were featured in the gossip sections of international newspapers.

They marched up to one of the little surf shops, and Daniel made a beeline for women’s swimwear. He noisily clacked the plastic hangers as he pushed the swimsuits around on the rack. After a few moments, he pulled out one.

“Here—I want you to wear this.”

Nina wasn’t sure what was more horrifying: how ugly the bikini was, or how tiny. It consisted of three lime green triangles each of which was about the size of a Dorito. In the center of each triangle was a strategically placed white star. Then there were some shoestrings, ostensibly to hold the triangles on. She was afraid to look at what the backside of the bottom piece had going on—but her surmise was that it was one of those shoestrings. How could that possibly be comfortable?

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What? You’d look great in that.”

Nina scrunched up her mouth as she tried and then failed to prevent the next words from escaping her lips, “I’d look naked in that.”

Daniel lifted an eyebrow, “And the problem with that is…?”

Ignoring his remark, Nina continued, “For starters, it’s about three sizes too small.” Nina made a vague gesture with her hand, “And, umm….” She used the royal ‘we’ to distance herself from the fact that she was probably sharing too much information, but she wanted to make herself very clear. “We’re not really landscaped for that kind of suit.”

Daniel blinked stupidly for a moment and then recognition dawned on his face. Hastily, he hung it back up on the rack. “Then what kind of bikini would you pick out?”

“I would not pick out a bikini, I would have the nice, practical, one-piece suit that I am currently wearing.”

Sighing with exasperation, Daniel countered, “No one is going to believe that my fiancé would ever wear such a travesty.”

“Tr—Travesty? You just called my taste in swimsuits a travesty?” Nina’s fists were on her hips, and she looked ready to clobber Daniel with one. She gave him a scathing look. “My swimsuit is tasteful.”

“Your swimsuit is boring.” Daniel started digging his heels in, unwilling to lose the battle. “Come on Nina, don’t make me order you to do this. Pick out something that you like, but something that’s fun.”

“So your idea of fun is getting naked?” Nina replayed the tape in her head of what she’s just said and wanted to scream.

“Isn’t everybody’s?” Daniel said mischievously.

Nina stamped her foot—which didn’t have quite the desired effect since she was wearing flip-flops. “That’s not what I meant!”

He pulled the green Doritos suit back off the rack and shook it in her face, “You pick a suit, or it’s this and a Brazilian. Up to you.”

Aggressive deforestation wasn’t merely an ecological issue; the thought of a Brazilian made Nina rigid—and she was half Brazilian.

Fuming, Nina leafed through the suits. “No, no, no, no, nope, no way, no.” She moved to another rack that had suits that at least seemed to have been made with more fabric than a necktie. “Hmm, yechh, maybe, not on your life, oh…my…god.” Drawing in a big breath, Nina pulled the bathing suit from the rack and held it up in front of her. Daniel nodded enthusiastically. Nina had stumbled upon the holy grail of two-piece bathing suits.

It was a retro-styled bikini, candy red with white polka dots. The top was a bow-tie halter with wide straps that could actually support Nina’s voluptuousness. The waist of the bottom half would sit just below the navel, it had full coverage in the back, and the front had an adorable short, shirred, swim skirt.

Nina worried from the look on Daniel’s face that he was already imagining her as a Bettie Page type pin-up girl from the 1950s, but he could forget her putting on high-heels. Maybe the suit wasn’t such a good idea.

“What are you waiting for? Go get changed! And here, add these to your outfit.” He dangled a pair of patent leather, espadrille wedges in bright red from his fingers. “They’re your size, I checked.”

Snatching the shoes out of his hand, Nina wondered how she was ever supposed to walk down the beach in something with an inch and a half platform in the front and a four-inch wedge at the back. She growled at Daniel as she pushed past him to go to the dressing room.

“Use your words Nina,” Daniel teased.

When Nina stepped out of the dressing room, she looked…like a Bettie Page type pin-up girl from the 1950s. Her dark curls—which the humidity had made even curlier—cascaded around her shoulders. The wedges made her legs look long and elegant, and the suit left something to the imagination, which only served to make it even sexier. Nina pulled at a strap, adjusting it.

“Va va va voom.” Daniel waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Use your words Daniel,” Nina quipped.

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