Going Royal 01 - Some Like It Royal (6 page)

“Night,” she called back.

Blowing out a long breath he looked down at his still-semierect cock pressing against the front of his shorts. He definitely needed to focus on software for a bit or he would never get any sleep. Alyx was an employee—he needed to keep that straight in his head. Yes, he didn’t want her sleeping in her car, but he’d hired her for a specific task. It helped no one to let lust override his judgment.

Chapter Eight

Alyx trailed her fingers down the length of fabric. The pure silk glided against her skin in sensuous invitation, but one look at the price tag and she moved on to the next dress on the rack. Victor cut in front of her and pointed to the dress. “What’s wrong with that one?”

His six-foot-two-inch frame was more than a roadblock and she sighed. “Nothing’s wrong with it, exactly, but it’s not what I’m looking for.”

“Hmm. And what are you looking for? We need at least four cocktail dresses, two evening gowns, a dozen daytime suits and changes. Specifically, you need a change of clothes for each meal.” He consulted the data tablet he carried everywhere. “Then there will be the shoes.”

Lips pursed, she swallowed back laughter. In his button-down steel-gray suit and hundred dollar shoes, he looked more suited to an executive office—his tense expression said “secret service, stay away.” He constantly seemed to scan their surroundings, aware of everything. Often enough for her to notice. The behavior disconcerted her, but his persistence in encouraging her to shop was too funny.

“They’re expensive.” She lowered her voice, keeping her expression calm and the intonation smooth. Two people could have a knock-down-drag-out verbal match and no one would notice if their voices didn’t raise and their tone didn’t change. “There’s a Goodwill in Santa Barbara that has some spectacular gowns for a twelfth the price—if that.” She could feed herself for a month on real meals for the price of the decadently soft silk dress.

Her escort tapped his fingers against the rack. “You don’t look at the price tags.”

“What?”

“You never look at the price tag. The price is irrelevant. You are shopping for clothing, to costume the platform you will be performing from. Money isn’t the issue, nor is the price. You look only at color, fabric and effect.” Like her, he never raised his voice, but the hair on her body prickled at the low command. “A princess doesn’t shop at Goodwill.”

Which is the most ridiculous thing ever.
How many articles hit the papers about the expenses of the royal families in Europe? When Prince William and his bride visited the United States, comments were made about the number of outfits Kate was photographed in and the concept of excess versus frugality. Some liked her frugal nature, and others didn’t. Rebellion surged through her. Why spend money like that if one didn’t have to? There were better things money could be spent on.

Like feeding people, sending kids to school, paying off bills...

Getting an apartment
,
which would have saved me this entire adventure because I would have been behind a locked door when Daniel got his crazy idea.

As quickly as the rebellion surfaced, so did the nibble of worry that she may have missed out on meeting the sweet man she’d shared ice cream with the night before. He could be fun and funny. A thrill skated over her skin. The tickling antics delighted her, more than she wanted to admit.

Victor flicked through the rack, then pulled out a dress and held it up to her. The deep blue sheath boasted an off-one-shoulder neckline and tucked fabric that would accent her curves and smooth any flaws in her figure. It fell to just above her knees. “How about we choose a selection, you try them on and if you can’t find fault with how you look, we take it?” he coaxed with his voice and gentle expression.

“Fine.” She nodded. “Do you want to just pick out the dresses and I’ll go start trying them on?”

Disapproval creased his forehead and he sighed.

“Or I could just take a good look at what they have?”

He nodded and she resisted the urge to rub a hand over her face. Fidgeting in public got her chastised once, she wouldn’t do it again. Together, they strolled through the racks, picking out a dozen different dresses. At the dressing rooms, Victor requested the private one off to the side with a stern glance at the clerk. This flustered the young woman attending, but she hurried to help them.

“You know, we have several shoes that would go great with those dresses.” The salesclerk cut her gaze down to Alyx’s feet. “You’re a six, yes?”

At her slow nod, the clerk beamed. “I’ll be right back. Just take your time.” She hustled off and Victor leaned against the wall, taking a position between the changing room and the rest of the store.

“I guess we’re getting shoes too.”

“Apparently.” He nodded approvingly and flicked his gaze to the changing room. Accepting the subtle nudge, she stepped inside and surveyed the dresses. She’d worn a simple, slimming pair of slacks and a blousy top for shopping. Both sported designer labels and both were purchased at Goodwill for less than three dollars each. Amused, she stuck out her tongue at the closed door.

The crushed linen held up well with constant changes and didn’t wrinkle in the car. The pale peach color emphasized her tan and accented the green chemise she wore beneath as well as the dyed-to-match green flats.

If only Victor knew she’d dyed the shoes herself. She’d actually found them at an off-the-rack wedding shop. But she thought that a secret best kept to herself. Hanging her outfit up on the empty hangers, she studied the dresses. She’d worn a bra, but at least two of them would require a strapless variety and she planned to try those on last. Reorganizing the dresses, she started—left to right.

The first, a yellow and orange sunrise of a dress, wasn’t particularly a cocktail outfit but she needed daytime event dresses as well. The neckline plunged between her breasts, but the halter top emphasized her shape. The handkerchief skirt swirled around her legs and she did a little hop-twirl and laughed.

“Find something you like?” Victor’s voice drifted over the stall door, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

Pulling her hair up into a mock ponytail, she swung the door inward and glided out on light feet. The dress did wonders to improve her mood. She caught sight of herself in the far mirrors and turned—it also shaped her ass nicely, smoothing over the curve, and accented her figure without being overly revealing.

“Cocktail parties at the beach. Afternoon tea.” Victor canted his head critically. “A polo match, were you to attend one.”

The clerk’s soft gasp turned Alyx all the way around and she let go of her hair.

“You look amazing in that. I have a couple of necklaces that you should try. Tourmaline. I’ll just call down to the jewelry counter and have those sent straight up.” She balanced several boxes of shoes. Victor shifted to the side, but rather than offer to take them, he merely made room for her.

“You could help her.” Alyx went for sotto voce, but the clerk laughed, her pixie cut bouncing as she set the boxes down and knelt.

“Private security doesn’t usually want their hands filled with boxes, ma’am.” A furtive look crossed her expression. “And don’t worry, we’re absolutely discreet here. Now, I have these in a six, but I think our wedge sandals would really set that dress off, but I only have that in a six and a half. We’ll try those and if you like them, I can get them ordered and delivered to you within twenty-four hours. Less, if you need them today.”

Alyx would have corrected her, but one glimpse of Victor’s satisfied expression and she held her tongue. “Thank you.”

She tolerated the woman helping her into the shoes. The six and a halfs were definitely too big, but the moment she saw the effect of the wedge heels on her legs in the mirror, she knew she had to have them. Her calves stretched and shaped beautifully. The orange and yellow mixture in the shoes was a perfect complement to the dress.

The clerk wrote the shoe’s identification number and size down. “Would you like one or two pairs? We actually have these in a sand color that would complement the earth-tone version of this dress.”

Why order one pair when two would do and a second dress could be sold? Victor tapped two fingers against his wrist.

“Two please.” Alyx smiled. “The sand and the yellow. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“Absolutely. I’ll go get that dress for you—seven, yes?”

The woman had an impeccable eye. Alyx nodded and tried not to swallow her tongue at the price tag on the shoes. She gave Victor a bland look and glided back in to change. She had a care with the dress and the shoes. Next up was a calf-length sheath in all black with a ribbed bodice that snugged against her so tightly she didn’t think she’d be able to breathe.

Christine, the clerk, returned in the time it took Alyx to shimmy into the black body wrap that doubled as a dress. Alyx could breathe, but only just barely. Thank God the skirt boasted a slit behind her knees or she’d never have been able to walk. A brief smile of approval lit up Victor’s dour expression. Christine braced a pair of elegant stilettos and Alyx stepped into one, then the other.

The effect was dramatic. She gained four inches of height and added a voluptuous curve to her lean build. This dress emphasized her less than stellar boobs and her ass no longer looked like it needed a lift.

“You need one in every color like this.” Christine made more notes. “I’ve got shoes to go with each shade, but I think the green would be best and of course, you can never go wrong in black. For this one, a nice diamond set for your neck and ears, a tennis bracelet to give it that look of simple purity.”

Christine fussed over her, turning her around and checking the fit. “Hair up, too. It is a bit on the snug side, but it’s supposed to be... We could let it out a quarter of an inch, but I hate to destroy the way this accentuates your build.” She turned Alyx around to look at the mirror. With swift pins she fastened the russet hair up into a twist of curls on top of her head, tendrils escaping to wisp along her cheeks.

“Innocent. Serene. Perfect.”

Alyx didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror—with her chin up and the dress and hair, she saw an elegant stranger. Her eyes burned and she blinked to force the tears back.

“Did I say something wrong?” Christine’s hopeful expression fell.

“Not at all.” She patted the woman soothingly on the arm. “It’s just very lovely, and it took me by surprise how much. I’d like three, please. One in purple as well, rather than red, if you have it.”

“I absolutely can get it for you in purple, Your—ma’am.” The clerk cleared her throat and helped her out of the shoes, unzipping the dress before opening the changing room door, and Alyx slipped inside. As the door closed, she flattened her hand against the wall. Christine seemed to be in on the secret. The near slip revealed a lot and she sucked in a deep breath, forcing the panic to subside. She had a dozen more dresses to try on. But for some reason, this didn’t feel like acting anymore. It was real.

I
can do this
...

* * *

“He’s still not returning our calls. I spoke to Prentiss and he’s assured me that the grand duke will be in touch as soon as he returns from his Mediterranean jaunt.” Martin dropped a file onto the desk with a grunt of frustration.

“Take it easy, old man. We’ll be fine.” He patted the lawyer on the shoulder. It didn’t matter that he shared Martin’s anxiety, maybe more. But if Andraste was out of the country, then maybe he wasn’t meeting with potential competitors. That gave Daniel more time and he didn’t feel the need to rush. “We don’t want him getting back too soon, anyway. We need the time to finish prepping Alyx. Coffee?”

“Sure.” The man dropped into a chair and leaned back, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. “How is the princess project going?”

“About ten thousand at Cartier and another fifteen at La Jeune.” The calls from the credit company came in fifteen minutes before and Daniel authorized both expenditures. Alyx’d left the house before he woke and the only sign that she’d been there was the rumpled pillow and blanket she’d left on the bed. Theresa told him that Victor picked her up in a limousine and they’d left to shop. His inquisitive housekeeper had obviously wanted to ask more questions, but he let her wonder.

That was Victor’s key piece of advice in all this. The fewer people in the know, the fewer who could reveal the truth, but the secret should be advertised. If his staff speculated, the news would begin to filter out. That could only help them. The Spherecast PR department had already received very specific instructions on how they were to “answer” questions and that sparked another flurry of rumors.

He passed Martin the mug of coffee and circled around to sit behind the desk. He didn’t dwell on the disappointment he’d experienced at Alyx’s absence over breakfast. He’d actually been able to finish his paper without someone stealing pages away before he could read them.

“I told you it was going to cost more than you thought. Be careful she doesn’t bleed you dry on these little shopping trips.” Martin’s doubt-laden grimace reminded Daniel that his attorney still didn’t approve of the plan.

“It’s not her credit card. I authorized Victor Russell on one of the accounts. He’s handling the shopping. She hasn’t asked for anything really. Except—hang on a sec.” He picked up the phone and dialed the number to his house. Theresa answered on the first ring. “Theresa, when is the next shopping trip scheduled?”

“Today, Mr. Voldakov. It’s always on Fridays,” she reminded him patiently.

“Excellent. Add some chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream, fresh whipped cream, some fruit and more chocolate syrup—and nuts. I think we were nearly out.”

“Anything else?”

Daniel drummed his fingers on the desk. “Steaks. And an assortment of flavored creamers...” The few things he did know about his bride-to-be was that she liked red meat and she liked her desserts. She also liked coffee with her dessert and she never touched the half-and-half. He’d seen the glimmers of disappointment after one morning coffee run to the kitchen when she glanced in the refrigerator.

“All right.” Theresa cleared her throat. “Do you need any other supplies?”

Daniel blinked slowly. The uncomfortable note in her voice suggested a different issue, but he wasn’t quite sure what. “No, I think that’s it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Voldakov.”

“Huh.” Daniel hung up the phone and scratched his jaw.

“Planning to gorge yourself on sugar when this doesn’t work out?” Martin’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.