He was here to pick her up, and she was still in the dress that bared her bad knee. She bit her lip to stave off the tears that she felt welling up as Henry extended a garment bag toward her. “I thought you might need something to wear.”
“I don’t need you to dress me,” she snapped.
“Would you just try it on please?”
She glanced down at the garment bag, fully aware that none of her own dresses were going to work. “Fine, no promises though.” She tugged the bag’s zipper down, revealing the shimmery gleam of silver. She gasped, but Darren’s gasp was louder.
“I think that’s Oscar de la Renta! You have to try it on,” Darren hissed.
She spun on her bare heel and stalked into the bedroom in an attempt to shield her enthusiasm from Henry. But when she unzipped the bag completely and gazed at the vision of a dress that he had brought her she practically squealed.
She stepped out of the yellow satin and slid the cool silk up her body, shivering at the musical tinkle of the silver beads that made up the fringe. Zipped up, the dress fit her like a glove, hugging her body in its soft embrace. A thin silver belt cinched the waist beneath the curtain of silver beading that fell from the neckline. Layer after layer of fringe fell from her mid-thigh down to her toes. Though it clung to her breasts, hips, and backside, the scoop neck was quite modest, and the skirt reached the floor.
As she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt graceful, elegant and feminine in a way she hadn’t since before the accident. She bit her lip and glided back out into the living room, both men turning to her as she approached them. Darren’s mouth dropped open and his green eyes popped wide. “Oh, Sophie! You look amazing!”
A muscle in Henry’s jaw tightened and his black eyes gleamed, but he didn’t speak. She brushed her fingers against the beaded fringe at her knee, setting it ringing softly. “I don’t know. It’s beautiful, but...”
“You look stunning in that dress. You have to wear it somewhere. Even if it is out with him.” Darren jerked a thumb in Henry’s direction. Henry ignored the jibe, though she saw his mouth tighten a little at the corners.
“Darren’s right,” he said, flashing the blond man a quick, dark look. “You do look incredible. You should let people see you in that dress.”
She actually felt pretty incredible too. But anxiety was knotting in her stomach. “I don’t have shoes to go—”
Henry extended a box. “I almost forgot.” His lips twitched upward this time as he suppressed a smile.
She took the box hesitantly, caught off guard by how prepared Henry was. “I’ll go try them on.”
Darren touched her arm. “Since my work here is done, I’m going to go. Call me when you get home, okay?” He brushed a kiss against her cheek. She nodded, shooting a quick glance at Henry. Darren clearly didn’t want to spend any extended time in his company, and she didn’t blame him. Gorgeous dress or no, just because she’d agreed to his scheme didn’t mean she wasn’t still completely livid.
“Night, Dar. Thanks for your help.”
He flapped a hand at her and headed out the apartment door, completely ignoring Henry Medina.
“Can you give me a few minutes? I just need to finish getting ready,” she said, turning to Henry.
“I’ll wait here,” he said, taking a seat on Sophie’s couch and grabbing a magazine from her coffee table.
She went into the bathroom and began rummaging through her make-up. It had been so long since she’d done anything but a little eyeliner and lip gloss that she was momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer prospect of having to get made up.
But once she’d taken a deep breath it came back surprisingly easy. She’d been blessed with good skin, so she skipped a heavy liquid foundation in favor of a lighter foundation mousse, and she warmed the curve of her cheekbone with a little bronzer. A dramatic smoky eye and a dark cherry lip lent a subtle sexiness to her otherwise natural look.
She moved onto her hair, fashioning it into a smooth French twist and clipping it with a sparkling silver pin that matched her beaded silver earrings. Satisfied that she’d done all she could, she opened the shoe box Henry had brought.
She inhaled sharply. The heels inside were gorgeous, maybe even moreso than the dress. A four and a half inch heel with a peep toe, the shoe was covered with tiny, shimmering crystals. She slipped them on, once again marveling that he seemed to know her exact size.
It was time to face the music. Or the paparazzi, rather. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and glided back into her living room. Henry glanced up from the magazine, his hungry gaze attaching to her immediately. The look shot through her like a bullet. She stilled, spine stiffening, as his eyes raked her from head to toe. She felt her own hunger flare low in her belly. She remembered the feel of his lips on her skin, the dark, commanding tone of his voice as he’d told her to kneel in his bedroom. She shivered.
“We’d better get going.” Her voice came out wispy, but he jumped to his feet. “The limo is waiting.” He motioned her to precede him out the door. Sophie went, hoping he wouldn’t try to touch her. She was hanging on by a thread—one brush of his hand could set her off and Sophie didn’t know if she’d laugh, or cry, hit him, or throw herself at him.
He didn’t touch her. Sophie breathed a small sigh of relief, and disappointment, as they climbed into the elevator in silence. This was going to be a long night.
Chapter Eleven
Sophie tried not to twist her hands into the lovely fabric of her dress. She stared out the window, willing the traffic to move faster. But they were nearly at a standstill. Neither one of them had spoken since they had left her apartment and the silence was growing unwieldy. There was no way they could go out in public like this. No one would believe they were a couple.
Perhaps, if she could get them both feeling more relaxed, things would go more smoothly. “Do you go to this type of thing often?”
“It’s part of the job.” His eyes cut quickly to her and then away.
“Which is what, exactly? If we’re supposed to be a couple, shouldn’t I know what Medina Properties does?”
Henry shifted in his seat, finally looking at her. “We buy and sell land, mostly. Develop real estate. It’s not very interesting and most of the people there won’t want to talk about business anyway.”
She swallowed hard. “Ok. Do we have a story?”
“I think it’s best we stick as close to the truth as possible.”
“Minus the part where you pay me for dance lessons and all five boroughs think I’m a prostitute?”
“Minus that.”
Sophie bit her lip. “Do you want to give me anything to work with?”
“I’m sorry?”
“We’re supposed to be a couple and I know nothing about you. Give me something. Lies, if it has to be. So long as I have some story to go with when I walk into that party.”
“Fine. I grew up here in the States. My father made a fortune before I was born, so always attended private school. Exeter. Harvard. I started working for his company the minute I graduated.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
She slumped back against the creamy leather seat. Henry shifted suddenly beside her and held out a flat jewelry box. “By the way, this goes with the dress.” He opened the box, revealing a gleaming strand of lustrous pearls. They glimmered like small, round mirrors. Sophie gasped, touching tentative fingertips to the cool spheres. Henry drew it out and held up the opera length strand. “They were my mother’s.”
Sophie’s eyes went wide as he slipped them around her throat and her anger dissipated. He turned her slightly away from him so he could fix the clasp. Why would he give her something to wear that had belonged to his mother? He had been so cold and now this?
“She always said pearls proved to her there was a God, because nothing so perfect and beautiful could be an accident,” he said.
“She sounds like a lovely woman,�
� she murmured, stroking the strand of pearls as it warmed against her skin. He finished hooking the clasp and stroked the nape of her neck briefly.
“She was.” Sophie felt the brief brush of his fingers against her nape and shivered. He turned her back toward him. “They look lovely on you.”
“Thank you, Henry.” She meant it for more than just the loan of the pearls. For the first time, she felt as if he was really talking to her, not trying to hide behind evasive language. She stared into his dark eyes and wondered what it might have been like if the scandal had never happened. Would Henry have gotten through to her? Carl had said he’d called the studio the day after their... encounter. What would he have said if he’d gotten a hold of her?
She didn’t know if she’d be here with him now. A small part of her was a little glad her hand was being forced. The rest of her was terrified.
The limo drew to a stop in front of the Four Seasons Hotel. Sophie’s breath caught in her throat as the driver came around to open the door. This was it. When they walked through that door, she and Henry would officially be a ‘couple’ to all of New York.
Chapter Twelve
She wanted to flee the minute they climbed the steps into The Garden. Though the affair was probably considered “intimate” at less than a hundred people, Sophie felt immediately surrounded. Only Henry’s light touch on the small of her back kept her from turning and running for the limo.
He bent slightly to whisper in her ear. “Relax. This will be painless, I promise.” His warm breath on her neck and the slight brush of his mouth against her earlobe sent heat blazing through her chest. The tinkle of the metallic beads on her dress gave her away.
“I wish I had your confidence.”
Henry stopped a passing waiter and took two glasses of champagne from his silver tray. He handed one to Sophie and toasted her. “To our first outing as a couple.”
She returned the gesture, but reminded him, “It’s just for show.” Maybe she was trying to remind herself as well. Being this close to Henry, having him touch her and joke with her and open up to her, it was heady. He was making her forget she was still angry with him.
“Henry!”
Sophie stiffened immediately at the woman’s shrill voice. Henry’s hand pressed her closer to his side in reassurance. They were approached by a reed thin woman with silver hair arranged in an elaborate pile on top of her head.
“Muriel, how lovely to see you.” Henry bent to brush a brief kiss on the woman’s wrinkled cheek. “Where’s Golan tonight?”
She waved a jewel encrusted hand. “Around. Foolish boy is having something of a tantrum. You should go find him and talk him out of his sulk. But first, introduce me to your lovely guest.”
“Muriel Trenway, this is Sophie Becker. Sophie, Muriel is the CFO of Trenway Global.”
Sophie swallowed. Trenway Global owned resorts and hotels all over the world. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Trenway.”
“Pleasure, pleasure. And what do you do, dear?”
“I—” Was she supposed to tell the Chief Financial Officer of one of the largest hotel conglomerates that she taught children how to tap dance?
“Sophie’s a dancer.” Henry flashed her a dark look. She stiffened further. She wasn’t a dancer. Not anymore.
Muriel’s ice blue eyes flicked down Sophie’s body and then lit on Henry with a mischievous twinkle. “That makes more sense.”
Henry cleared his throat. Was that a flush of red on his high cheekbones? That was intriguing. But of course, once Muriel had approached them people began to swarm, and Henry was introducing her left and right. She shook hands and smiled, trying to memorize faces and names, but it was hopeless. There were too many, too fast.
“I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me, Ms. Becker,” Carl Barrett said as he sidled up beside her.
Sophie gazed up into his face. A genuine smile spread across her mouth. “I would never.”
“You’ve been here for almost half an hour and not come over to say hello. What else am I supposed to think?” His blue eyes twinkled down at her.
Sophie tapped Henry on the shoulder and cocked her head at Carl. He smiled in approval as she tugged Carl away from the knot of people toward one of the more secluded corners.
“You looked like your brain was whirring so fast it was about to lift off.”
“That’s about how I felt.” She gulped some of the champagne.
Carl snagged a passing waitress and requested a gin and tonic. “You’re not the only one who feels out of place in this crowd. How many other comedians have you seen here tonight?”
She opened her mouth, glanced around, and shut it again. He was right. “So what are you doing here?”
“Moral support. For you and Henry. And to help legitimize your relationship. Even if someone is dumb enough to think Henry would bring an escort to an affair like this, I wouldn’t be talking to you, right?” He took the drink from the returned waitress, tipped her generously, and winked. The waitress glided away with a smile.
Sophie sipped more of her champagne and scanned the room. Several people were munching on the pizzette of smoked Catskill salmon with wasabi caviar that was being served. Everyone had a drink in hand. Several fortunes worth of jewelry glinted on fingers, wrists, and throats. She touched the strand of pearls around her neck. They were more modest than most of the other jewels, but she thought they were more beautiful than any of the garish baubles the other women wore.
From across the room, Henry met her eye. She saw his gaze drop to the hand at her throat and even from this distance she could see the heat in it. She bit her lip. Could she risk giving the gorgeous yet reserved man another chance? He had opened up to her a little bit. The conversation in the limo was clearly him making an effort. And his mother’s pearls.
“Well, that look made it pretty clear to anyone watching that you’re not being paid to be here,” Carl said.
Sophie felt the heat burning in her cheeks at Carl’s words and tore her gaze from Henry.
“By tomorrow,” Carl continued, “the media will be buzzing with your unlikely love story. He saw you dancing through a window, how romantic, blah, blah, blah. Pretty soon something else will come along and bump you off the page. Romance only sells so many papers. Unless you’re royals.”
“Let’s hope so.”
They were both silent for a moment as they watched Henry weaving through the crowd, slapping backs, shaking hands, nodding. Carl drained the rest of the his drink. “Sophie, listen. People think his life has been so easy, raised in wealth, set to inherit the family business. But that’s bullshit. That baggage I mentioned? It’s heavy. Just be careful, okay? I’d hate to see either one of you hurt.”
Who had planned out Henry’s life? His father? He never mentioned him, except in relation to the business. “Thank you, Carl. That means a lot.”
“You’re getting along well, I see.” Henry slid an arm around her waist. Sophie leaned into him.
“We are.”
Carl raised his empty glass. “And now I need another drink. I’ll be back.”
“I can’t stop looking at you,” Henry said, once Carl was out of earshot.
Sophie touched trembling fingers to her temple. “I appreciate that, but I’d appreciate being pointed in the direction of the ladies’ room more.” The combination of the champagne, her anxiety, the crowd, and Henry’s nearness was making her light-headed. She needed a bit of cool water on her cheeks.
Henry gestured toward the restrooms. “Just there. Everything alright?”
“Fine. Just need to refresh. I’ll be right back.”
Sophie moved as quickly through the crowd as she could, smiling politely. Inside the lavish ladies’ room she ran the water until it felt ice cold before wetting her hands and patting her flushed cheeks. How much longer would they have to stay here?
The low sound of voices gossiping snapped her to attention. “And did you see her shoes? Louboutin’s. I’m so jealous.” The
voice came from a stall behind her to the right. An answering voice replied from the one next to it.
“Well, she is a dancer. Clearly, she has to take care of her feet. What better way than to pamper them? Anyway, I thought she seemed nice.”
They were talking about her. Louboutin’s? Sophie glanced down at the crystal-studded heels. Louboutin’s? They could be worth a thousand dollars at least!
“You’re such a soft touch, Jeanie,” the first woman sighed. “She’s obviously with him for his money.”
Jeanie giggled. “I don’t know. Have you looked at Henry Medina lately?”
Sophie quickly dried her hands and ducked out the door. While it was good to know that the faceless Jeanie thought she was nice, she really didn’t want to meet her under those conditions.
When she finally found Henry in the crowd of the party, he was talking to Carl. The blond man begged off as she approached.
Henry eyed her as she neared. “You still look a bit flushed.”
“There were some women in the bathroom talking about me,” she blurted. Henry’s brows shot up.
“Whatever they were saying, ignore it.”
She extended her leg slightly, pointing the polished toe that peeped out of her crystal-studded heel. “So these aren’t Christian Louboutin’s?”
Henry’s gaze dropped to her lip and he swallowed.
“No, they are.”
“How could you spend so much money on me?”
“I wanted you to look nice.”
“I can look nice in something less than thousand dollar shoes!”
“Trust me, I know. Better than nice, as I remember.”
Her breath caught in her throat. His tone was playful, but the heated intent in his dark eyes was anything but. She didn’t doubt for a minute that he was thinking about kissing her. And not just a brief brush of lips like she’d done before.
“Pardon me, pardon me, so sorry to interrupt.” The tiny little man’s smile was wide. He was balding, with a bad combover. “Mr. Medina, can I get a picture of you and your lovely date?” He was clearly a reporter.
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