With a grudging sigh, Ari climbed from the tub and was just finishing up flinging on clothes when the doorbell rang. It looked as if it was time to play dress-up.
The next two hours whirled away as Ari tried on dozens of dresses. Finally, the woman seemed satisfied and freed Ari from that ordeal. Which of the outfits would she be wearing? She honestly didn’t know, and at that point she couldn’t have cared less. The salon beckoned almost as a reprieve from all that zipping and buttoning and tying.
Ari knew from her high school and college days that a lot of women loved getting dressed up and being pampered — if you could call it that — but she’d never been that girl. She’d been far more interested in studying than in the latest Paris fashions. It all just seemed so trivial.
Granted, Ari did get off on finding that flawless pair of jeans — a pair that slid on and fit her as if they had been made just for her body. She had one pair in her closet that she loved. Those were from the days before she made such an attempt at hiding her curves. When she slipped them over her h*ps and they molded to her behind, she felt sexy and sleek. Yes, she’d take a pair of jeans over silk any day. Ari smiled at that thought.
Since she was able to bring her thriller with her to the salon, having her hair tugged, ironed and twisted in all directions didn’t bother her. She became lost in the story again and was able to tune out the constant droning of the many people gossiping all around her. Before she knew it, this second ordeal was over, too.
By the time she got home, put on the gold satin dress that had been laid out for her, and then turned to look in the mirror, Ari was shocked. Wow! She wasn’t in the least bit vain, but she just about took her own breath away. Slowly, she approached the mirror and looked at herself from head to toe.
Her hair was partly up, so it was away from her face, but the rest was left cascading down her back in soft curls. Just how did she feel about the dress? She had no words. It molded to her curves like a second skin and dipped dangerously low in front and to nearly indecent levels in back. One more inch and she’d be showing parts of her behind not meant for public consumption.
The makeup artist had transformed her features, making her appear almost exotic with dark eyes and rose-colored lips. With her mysterious look, her tumbling locks, and the golden gown, she felt like a princess from another era. Now all she needed was a knight to come riding in to rescue her from her lofty tower.
As she twirled in front of the mirror, assessing the effect of four-inch heels, she felt invincible. Being a little vain wasn’t so bad, she decided with a laugh. Maybe the day, and night, wouldn’t be a terrible loss, after all.
With a new bounce in her step, Ari made her way to the elevator and rode down with a smile that refused to leave her lips. Rafe was running late at work, so he would meet her at the business bash. She was anticipating his reaction; her grueling beauty boot camp had earned her at least a little head turning.
“You look stunning, Ms. Harlow.”
“Thank you, Mario. I was dreading the entire ‘day of beauty,’ but wearing this gown has changed my opinion of being ‘pampered,’” she responded with a giggle.
“The gown is gorgeous, indeed, but you’re the one who makes it shine.”
“You are about to sweep me off my feet,” she said, taking his hand as he helped her into the back of the car.
“I don’t think my wife would be too happy to hear that,” he joked as he shut the door, then made his way to the driver’s side of the car.
“I didn’t know you were married, Mario. Your wife must be a lucky woman.”
“I think she’d agree with you on some days, and disagree on others.” Ari loved how comfortable Mario made her feel. He was a kind man, even if he refused to call her by her first name. She had argued with him too many times over the matter already; why resume the fight this beautiful evening?
They chatted for a few more moments, and then Ari rested while he chauffeured her across the city. She wondered what Rafe would think of her look. But she hated that she cared.
Chapter Sixteen
Rafe glanced at his watch for the twelfth time in the past hour. It was ridiculous. He didn’t care if he was late to a function he hadn’t been interested in attending in the first place, so why was he continually checking the time?
His life had stopped making sense. Sheesh. He couldn’t even make it through a simple business meeting without having Ari repeatedly pop into his head. And now he was rushing through town in the back of a limo to meet her at an event that promised nothing but boredom.
He was losing control and the frightening part was that he didn’t much care half the time. When he was in her presence, he felt alive — as if he could do anything. No matter how much he tried to pull back from her, a secret smile on her face was all it took to make him fall to his knees.
The situation was absurd and he knew that, but still he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his watch, yet again.
“How much longer until we arrive?”
“We’ll be there in five minutes, Mr. Palazzo.”
Rafe found himself wanting to snap at the driver to pick it up, but he forced himself to sit back and take a drink. If he didn’t want to pin Ari to a wall the second he saw her, he’d need a hell of a lot more bourbon before the night was over.
Never had his sexual appetite been so endless. He wanted her night after night — no breaks in between except for those miserable Sundays she reserved as her own. She might not have realized it, but he was holding himself back. He could see that her body was sore, though she wasn’t complaining. She was still argumentative, and about the worst submissive he could imagine, but she made him — happy.
When they arrived, Rafe didn’t wait for the driver to come around and open his door. He stepped from the vehicle the second it stopped and found himself rushing inside the exclusive country club.
The function was to celebrate a new collaboration between his company and a foreign electronics manufacturer. The merger would create tens of thousands of jobs and billions of dollars in revenue for both countries.
Rafe should be joining in the celebration, seeking out his new business partners, not searching the crowd for a small, dark-haired minx who had his insides turned upside down.
Snatching up a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, Rafe made his way through the crowd, intent on finding Ari. He’d get her alone for five minutes, and then he’d be back to himself and could handle his investors.