The Millionaire's Inexperienced Love-Slave
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‘This way,’ he said once they reached the kerb, and led her along the street frontage towards the main entrance of the building. On the way, they had to pass two shops, one of which was a very exclusive ladies’ fashion boutique.
As luck would have it, there, on a mannequin in the window, was an outfit that was absolutely perfect for going to the theatre. It wasn’t totally black. Only the skirt, which fell in floaty folds to mid-calf length. The top was purple, and beaded, with three-quarter sleeves and a deep, crossover neckline, which was subtly sexy.
Not so subtle were the black five-inch heels that the window-dresser had put on the model’s feet.
‘Oh!’ Sharni exclaimed, and ground to an admiring halt in front of the window.
‘You’d look good in that,’ Adrian said straight away.
More than good, but he didn’t want to gush. Women didn’t like men who gushed.
‘You really think so?’
‘I really think so,’ he said coolly. ‘Let’s go inside and you can try it on.’
CHAPTER SIX
SHARNI looked at herself in the dressing-room mirror and thought, Wow, I really do look good, just like Adrian said I would.
Not just good, Sharni amended as she turned this way and that, setting the black chiffon skirt swinging around her legs. I look sexy.
And I feel sexy.
Was it the wine she’d drunk over lunch? Or because the salesgirl had suggested she take off her bra?
Sharni’s curves rarely went without support, despite their not being saggy in any way. She’d never been inclined to show off her breasts in public, Ray having always liked her conservative way of dressing.
What would he think if he saw you in this top? Sharni wondered as she stared at her exposed cleavage.
He’d be shocked, she knew. Shocked and disapproving.
She felt shocked, too. Not by the way she looked, but by the way she felt.
Unbearably excited.
A tap on the dressing-cubicle door sent a nervous gasp punching from her lips. ‘Yes?’
‘Your husband wants you to come out and show him what you look like,’ the salesgirl called through the door.
Sharni should have denied he was her husband. But she didn’t.
Instead, she swallowed, then opened the door.
‘Oh, no,’ the salesgirl said, glancing down at her stockinged feet. ‘You can’t go out there like that. I’ll get you some shoes. What size are you?’
‘Seven.’
‘In that case the ones on the model should fit you. Wait here. I’ll go get them.’
The shoes were produced, with Sharni having to sit down to put them on. They were cripplingly high and sinfully sexy, each having a narrow strap across the front, with two more straps attached at the back which wound round her ankles and tied in a bow. She’d never in her life worn anything like them.
Sharni teetered at first when she stood up, having to keep her steps small as she made her way very slowly out to where Adrian was waiting, leaning against a counter in the middle of the boutique.
He straightened on seeing her, his blue eyes narrowing as they raked over her from top to toe.
Never had any man looked at her in quite that way before, not even Ray. The intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her, making her knees go to jelly.
‘Walk up and down a few times,’ Adrian commanded in that masterful way that made Sharni’s stomach flutter wildly.
Not a totally unknown state for her these days. But her nervous tummy was usually due to anxiety, not excitement.
Once she found her balance, her hips surprised her by developing a decidedly sexy sway. The effect on her psyche was amazing. Suddenly, she was a femme fatale; a temptress who commanded all male eyes be upon her.
But there was only one male Sharni wanted looking at her at that moment. And he very definitely was, with glittering blue eyes that evoked a heat in her that felt both shameful and shameless.
‘I told you you’d look great in that,’ he said, his voice low and sexy.
Sharni’s heart quickened its beat.
‘She’ll take it,’ he told the salesgirl before Sharni had a chance to come to a decision.
‘The shoes as well?’ the girl asked Adrian.
‘Absolutely,’ came his crisp reply.
‘You…you do realise I’ll probably never ever wear these shoes again,’ she said, even as she admired them.
‘Of course you will,’ he countered. ‘Every time you wear that fantastic outfit. Now go get changed, like a good girl, while I fix up the bill.’
Sharni flushed with the weirdest mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. ‘I can’t possibly let you pay for my clothes, Adrian,’ she protested. ‘It’s not right.’
‘What’s not right about it? I can well afford a few hundred dollars.’
‘That’s not the point!’
He smiled, then reached out to stroke a tender fingertip down her nose. ‘All right, sweet Sharni,’ he said, his eyes soft on hers. ‘You can pay for your own clothes. But this is the last time you get to pay for anything when you’re with me. Off you go and change now. But don’t be too long. Now that you have something suitable to wear tonight, you don’t have to waste the afternoon shopping. We can spend it together, doing something more interesting.’
He was like a steamroller, Sharni thought as she changed back into her trousers and jumper.
But it was exciting, being swept along like this.
What did he have in mind for this afternoon? she wondered momentarily before deciding she wouldn’t wonder. Or worry. About anything. Not even what it was about her that interested him.
After all, a man like Adrian would have no shortage of women—more beautiful than herself—throwing themselves at him.
This last thought did give Sharni something to worry about. Surely Adrian must have a girlfriend. Surely!