Her Prince Charming: An Inspirational Romance (6 page)

T
he next thing
I knew I was standing in the women’s department surrounded by lovely cocktail dresses, listening to James say,

“Tell Jessica that James Drake is here. She’s expecting me.”

The clerk nodded her head and said, “Yes, sir,” before she disappeared into the back of the store.

“Jessica is my personal shopper. She’ll take good care of us.” He smiled down at me with something that looked like affection. My knees went weak. Still feeling a little vulnerable from my freak-out that morning, I reminded myself to keep my head on straight.

“So Melissa doesn’t buy your clothes, too?” I teased. James smiled, and the crinkle around his green eyes when he did made me wish we were alone.

“No. She doesn’t have the time. And Jessica knows every square inch of Neiman’s. She could assemble a complete wardrobe in twenty minutes if she had to.”

“James, you flatter me.”

I turned to see a mature woman walking toward us, her honey colored hair twisted into a loose bun, her smile friendly. Reaching out, she took James’s offered hand, then leaned in to kiss his cheek.

I couldn’t quite place her faint accent. Not French, but close. She released James’s hand and turned to face me.

“What have you brought me this morning?” Her eyebrows lifted, her expression expectant.

“Jessica, this is my friend Sara Cunningham. Sara, Jessica.”

I extended my hand, not sure how to read her. She wasn’t flirting with James, which was a surprise and a relief. They seemed to share and easy, friendly camaraderie. It made me a little shy, though.

If she was friendly with him, how would she feel about him buying clothes for some woman he barely knew? Would she think I was a gold digger? Before I could stress out too much about it, I found my hand clasped between both of hers.

“Lovely, just lovely,” she said to James. To me, she leaned closer, as if telling a secret, and said, “You know, James has never brought me a woman to dress. I’ve sent him some bits and pieces over the years, but has he ever introduced me to a young lady? No.”

She shook her head, her flair for drama making me smile. “We’re going to have some fun today.”

“Oh, no, I think you misunderstood,” I started to say. James’s hand over my mouth cut me off.

“Sara needs a dress to wear to an evening wedding. Something appropriate, but I want it to be the best dress in the room. And we’d like to see anything else you have that might look good on her. Anything.”

I flushed and looked away from them, wondering what Jessica must be thinking. I’m sure she thought we were sleeping together and I didn’t know how I felt about that. James interrupted my troubled thoughts as he leaned in close.

“Jessica is right,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re going to have fun.”

And we did, at least for a while. Jessica ushered us to the back of the store, through a set of double doors and into a private lounge. After leaving us with a bottle of champagne and asking me a few questions about sizes and preferred styles, she vanished.

She returned ten minutes and one glass of champagne later followed by an assistant who struggled to keep up. Hanging several dresses on a nearby rack, she murmured instructions to the assistant and sent her back into the store. To me, she said,

“Alright, miss. Up and into the dressing room please. I have a few selections for us to try.”

Putting down my glass, I followed her into the small room. On the wall, she’d hung two dresses. One was a color block dress with ivory scalloped lace on top, and black satin from the ribcage down to the high-low hem finished in eyelets.

The other was its opposite, a confection of strapless black tulle and satin, embroidered all over with delicate silver daisies.

Neither was a dress I would have chosen for myself, and not just because I was sure they cost more than my car was worth. As if she didn’t notice my hesitation, Jessica said,

“The cocktail dress first, please.” At my blank look, she smiled and gently explained, “The black and ivory, dear.”

She slipped out of the dressing room, giving me privacy to strip off the navy flowered sundress and contemplate the designer dress hanging in front of me. To my surprise, it slipped on easily, fitting itself to my curves as if it had been made for me.

I did up as much of the zipper as I could and gaped at my reflection in the mirror. The dress was sexy without being revealing. On another woman, one with a straighter, smaller body, it might simply be elegant.

On me, it made my waist look tiny, showed off my curves, and the hi-low hemline displayed the best part of my legs. I looked modern, youthful, and feminine without feeling like I was showing too much skin.

I’d never worn a dress like it. I was afraid to look at the price tag. A soft knock on the door startled me.

“Yes?”

“Do you need help with the zipper?” Jessica asked.

“Please.”

She slipped in and circled around me, examining the fit of the dress. Without comment, she stopped behind me and pulled the zipper the rest of the way up.

Her hands twisted in my hair, doing something that ended up with the thick mass of it piled on my head in a makeshift up-do, secured by a glittery clip she’d snapped into place.

Dropping to her knees, Jessica eased my bare feet into equally glittery gold heels. A moment later, I looked ready to stroll into a gala. Speechless, I stared at myself in the mirror. Jessica stood beside me, grinning.

“I am amazing, am I not?”

I grinned back at her. She was gone ten minutes, and she came back with this?

“Amazing doesn’t cover it,” I said, squeezing her hand in a thank you. Even if I never wore it, getting to play dress up in designer fashion was the most fun I’d had in ages.

“Let’s see what James thinks,” she said. I followed her out of the dressing room, eager to see James’s reaction. He didn’t disappoint.

As I stepped out of the dressing room, he rose, following Jessica and me to the three-way mirror. Much as Jessica had, he circled me, examining me. Unlike Jessica, his eyes were possessive. Approving. Standing behind me, he met my eyes in the mirror.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Do you?” I thought it looked fantastic, but I wasn’t confident enough to say so out loud.

“You look gorgeous. Elegant and sexy. I won’t be able to leave your side or the men will be all over you. But we won’t get it unless you like it.”

“I like it,” I said in a whisper, my head spinning from James’s words. I thought I looked good, but the way he described me melted my heart.

“Then we’ll get it. And the shoes. Go try on the other one.”

“But-” If we were getting this one, I didn’t need another dress.

“Humor me,” he said. “If Jessica brought two dresses, you should try on the other one.”

“Okay.” Jessica trailed me to the dressing room. After helping me with the zipper, she discretely slipped out, saying,

“If you need help with the bustier, let me know.”

I glanced down at the bench beside the hanging dresses to see a black satin bustier. Looking at the other dress, I realized it was strapless.

I’d need something more beneath to hold me, and the dress, in place. Carefully removing the ivory and black dress I was wearing, I replaced it on its hanger before turning to the bustier.

Getting it on was a little bit of a battle, but I wasn’t ready for the svelte Jessica to see me mostly naked. She’d been nothing but kind, and I had no reason to think she’d sneer at me.

Still, I was too shy to ask for help with my underwear. In the end, I fastened most of the hook and eyes in the front, then wiggled it around and settled it in place. Jessica could do the last few once I had the dress on.

And what a dress. If the black and white dress was elegant and sexy, this was a grown woman’s fairytale. An underdress of black satin provided the framework for yards and yards of transparent, shimmering black tulle embroidered with delicate silver daisies.

Unable to resist, I looked for the price tag. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to find it was missing. That was probably for the best. I didn’t really want to know what it cost. I could guess, and the guess was enough to freak me out if I thought about it too much.

Stepping into the gown, I pushed the cost out of my mind. I’d made it clear to James that he didn’t have to buy me anything. He’d made it equally clear that he wanted to. Who was I to argue? I eased the dress up, tugging it gently over the curve of my breasts.

When I had the zipper mostly up, I called softly to Jessica. A moment later, the door opened, and she stepped inside. Fastening the last hooks of the bustier and the rest of the zipper, she smoothed the fabric over my hips and sighed.

“You look like a princess. All you’re missing are your slippers.”

Avoiding my reflection in the mirror, I took the sparkling sandals from her and slipped them on, admiring the crystal embellished straps and delicate bows setting off the silver spike heels.

If Cinderella had a choice other than glass, she would have gone for these shoes. Apt, since I’d be turning back into a pumpkin soon enough. Everything buckled, zipped and hooked into place, I risked a glance in the mirror.

“Oh, wow,” I breathed at my reflection. I looked like a princess. Both dresses were too formal for Christie’s wedding, and I’d never have a chance to wear either one again. But my heart squeezed in my chest as I saw myself in the dressing room mirror.

I didn’t look drab, plump, or boring. My skin glowed against the shimmering black tulle, my grey eyes seemed lit from within, my full breasts curving beautifully but modestly contained in the bodice of the dress, my waist nipped in, looking smaller than I knew it was.

I met Jessica’s eyes as I turned to open the door. Her smile told me I looked as good in the dress as I thought I did. Stepping out of the dressing room, I waited to see what James would say.

I
’d been checking
my messages on my phone when I heard the handle turn on the dressing room door. Looking up, I got my first glimpse of Sara in the second dress.

I froze, my usually razor sharp brain on lock down. She stood there, in fairytale crystal heels and a fantasy of a dress, her eyes as open and vulnerable as I’d ever seen them. I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I needed to say something.

Sara was insecure about her looks. That was easy enough to figure out, and a little nervous about letting me buy her expensive clothes. Most women would be trying to see how much they could get out of me, but not Sara.

She stood completely still, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t know what to say. Every word in my vocabulary was inadequate to describe the picture she made. Beautiful would be true, but not enough.

She was grace and elegance, sweetly feminine and sexy at the same time. Her curves combined with her clear, intelligent, grey eyes and her smooth, creamy skin, all wrapped in that amazing dress had frozen my brain.

She was mine. She had to be. I couldn’t let something this precious get away from me.

Jessica’s low murmur brought me back to my senses, and I noticed Sara’s open expression beginning to falter. She thought I didn’t like it. Clearing my throat, I said,

“We’ll take both of them. And we’d like to see a selection of daytime and cocktail dresses. And anything else she needs to go with them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jessica and her assistant disappeared, leaving me alone with Sara. Looking at her in that dress, I wanted a lot of things from her. Most of them weren’t the kind of things a nice girl like Sara would be willing to do in a department store dressing room.

If she had any idea what was running through my mind, she’d have turned bright red and run as fast as she could. Since I had no intention of driving her away, I kept my mouth shut.

“James?” I heard Sara whisper. Turning to face her, I reached out for her hand. “Is it okay?” she asked.

I still had no idea what to say. Taking the easy way out, I closed the distance between us and took her face in my hands.

Her lips were soft under mine, yielding sweetly to me as I kissed away her doubt. Not trusting myself, I kept my touch isolated to her face, holding her still, forcing myself to keep my kiss gentle and light.

I’d meant to reassure her, but once I had her taste it wasn’t enough. My lips brushed hers then moved to her cheek, the shell of her ear.

Loathe to move away, I kept her there, teetering on her heels, until the scuff of Jessica’s shoe betrayed that we were no longer alone. I broke away and whispered in her ear,

“You’re more beautiful than I imagined a woman could be. And I love the way you kiss.”

After a moment of silence, Sara fell into me, her face red, her body shaking with giggles. She gasped for breath, her shoulders trembling. When she finally had herself under control, she whispered back,

“I like the way you kiss too.”

Her shy declaration was enough to send a rush of possession through me. This had begun as a way to handle my bad reputation.

I’d been attracted to Sara from the start, I hadn’t lied to her about that, but every second I spent with her I realized that she was becoming much more than a way to fix a problem.

She might be the answer to everything I’d been looking for, but hadn’t known how to find.

T
he glint
in his eyes after he kissed me made my knees weak. Before I could think of what to say, Jessica was ushering me back into the dressing room. The next hour was a whirlwind of rattling hangers, zippers, and quick trips into the lounge to show James what I was wearing.

Cocktail dresses, their fabric fine, colors dark and dramatic, each dress with shoes to match. Day dresses, not unlike the one I’d worn earlier in the day. My head spun.

I lost my nerves about Jessica seeing me in my underwear, giving in to her relentless urgings to try this and that. James wanted us to move quickly, and it seemed James got what he wanted.

I lost track of how many things I’d tried on or what James liked. I never even saw most of the underwear. Jessica had me try on one bra, made of the thinnest pale pink silk, before whisking it off and calling “thirty-six double D” to her assistant.

I caught sight of the letters ‘erla’ on the bra and knew it had to be La Perla. I swallowed hard. I had no idea what the dresses I’d tried on since the ball gown cost, but I knew about La Perla. I’d drooled over La Perla.

James was crazy to be spending this kind of money on a woman he’d just met. Especially when we’d already established that he wouldn’t be seeing the expensive underthings in person.

I, on the other hand, was not crazy. Being the focus of all this extravagance was unsettling, true. I’d done my best to talk him out of spending so much money on me and I’d gotten nowhere.

Trying again would be a waste of time. James was a billionaire, and he wanted to shower me with a ridiculously expensive wardrobe. I wasn’t going to keep saying no.

When James’s reputation was cleaned up and he didn’t need to date me any longer, I was sure he’d move on. I wasn’t going to fool myself into thinking my fairy tale was real.

Eventually, this would end. And I knew dating other men after this would be even more of a letdown than dating had been before James. But at least I’d have an unbelievable wardrobe to console me.

We brought only the black and white dress and matching shoes back to the cottage. Jessica had arranged for the rest to be delivered later in the day.

I hung the dress in my closet beside the clothes Melissa had bought me and ran a brush through my hair, tangled from spending the morning in a dressing room. When I was finished I checked my phone for calls from from Mom.

There was nothing except a few texts from a number I didn’t recognize. Deciding I could check them later, I headed back to James’s cottage where he’d told me to expect lunch.

I knocked on his front door and waited to hear him say, “Come in,” before walking inside. He stood on the far end of the room shuffling trough papers on his desk, his cell phone to his ear.

Seeing me, he smiled and gestured to the room service cart in the center of the room. It was only mid afternoon, but it felt like breakfast had been days ago instead of hours.

Lifting the lids on the trays, I saw a cheeseburger with waffle fries, a grilled salmon sandwich and fish tacos, all still steaming. They must have just been delivered. My stomach growled.

James hung up the phone and came to stand beside me, sliding one arm around my waist. Without thinking, I leaned into him. “Hungry?” he asked, tightening his arm.

“I don’t know how after that breakfast,” I said. “But I am.”

“It was a busy morning,” he said, indicating that I should sit. “Which do you want?”

“All of it looks good,” I said, taking a seat at the table opposite him.

“A little of everything?”

“That would be perfect.” He began dividing the plates. “James?” I asked, nervous I was going to upset our cozy afternoon.

He looked up at me, waiting, eyes narrowed as if he knew he wouldn’t like my question.

“I just wanted to say thank you for taking my shopping. And I’m sorry about this morning. You were right. My freaking out says more about me than it does you. You haven’t done anything to deserve my mistrust.”

“Thank you, Sara,” he said, more seriously than I might have expected. “I’ll make a point to never truly give you a reason to doubt me. And you have to promise to remember that you’re a gorgeous woman who any man would be insane to treat badly.”

“I’m working on it,” I said, embarrassed by his description of me.

The women he saw when he looked at me wasn’t the one I saw in the mirror. I liked myself, and I was proud of my accomplishments, but I’d never thought of myself as beautiful. James seemed to disagree. And on this point, I didn’t want to argue.

Our plates ready, James reached out to take my hand as I said the blessing, the action so natural it felt as if we’d been praying together before meals forever instead of just a day.

“So, what do you do?” I asked, curious what had him on the phone all the time. “I know you run the Drake Gardens and oversee the rest of the company, but what does that mean?”

My own job was interesting to me, but fairly routine. I was curious to know what being a billionaire CEO really meant. In between asking me questions about my own work, I found out that being James meant a ridiculous amount of responsibility, making decisions that affected millions of dollars and thousands of people’s jobs every day.

He took his company seriously, seeing it as a family legacy he shared with his two brothers, both of whom were based on the east coast.

Drake Enterprises had holdings in a wide range of areas, from hospitality, to precious metals, to hospital equipment. How they stayed on top of everything was beyond my brain’s ability to process.

I handled my clients’ sometimes-complicated financial affairs, and I did it very well. However, what James did was another world of complexity.

When I asked how he managed it all, he said, “I hire the best and I pay them very well. Never underestimate the value of a good team. Without my people, Drake Enterprises wouldn’t be what it is.”

He was making it hard to keep my heart distant. He could be overbearing and bossy - my new wardrobe case in point - but when he said things like this, I melted. So many men in his position would take all the credit. Instead, James deflected it back to his employees.

We sat there so long, asking questions and trading stories, I lost track of time. If my mother hadn’t called to ask if I knew where the rehearsal dinner was (I did), I might have missed forgotten it completely.

Looking at the time, I jumped out of my chair. “I have to start getting ready,” I said, reluctant to end our lunch. I’d been planning on wearing my hair up that night, since the black and white dress demanded it.

But getting my long, thick hair curled and pinned in place would take some time. If I did what I wanted and stayed, we’d be late.

James glanced at the clock on his phone. “Fine,” he said. “First, come here.” I did as commanded, mostly because I didn’t want to say no to him.

When I was within reach, he tugged me close, wrapping his arms around me. His mouth touched mine, his lips closed and warm. As kisses went, it was about as chase as it could get.

So why did it send heat flaring through my body? He pulled back and laid a kiss on each on my closed eyelids, then stepped away. My knees wobbled.

“Go,” he said, turning me toward the door. “Get ready for dinner before I’m tempted to take this further than we’re ready for it to go.”

Blindly, I walked away, wondering how mad my Mom would be if we didn’t show up for the wedding. Mad. So mad her head would explode. And, as annoying as my sisters could be, I loved my Mom.

An hour later, I was showered, wearing the resort robe, my hair dried and pinned in sections, ready for the curling iron. As I lifted the iron to wrap the first section of hair, my phone beeped with a text. I put the iron down and reached for my phone.

Don’t ignore me
!!

What? I stared at the number, then flipped back through the day’s texts. When I’d seen the unfamiliar number earlier, I’d assumed it was a mistake. The texts started at eleven that morning.

Call me
.

Where are you? Call me back
.

This isn’t over. Call me before I come find you.

And then the one from a minute ago:
Don’t ignore me!!

They had to be a wrong number. No one I knew would send me texts like this, and I’d never seen this phone number before. It was local to Atlanta, but so were millions of other numbers.

Only one person had ever talked to me this way, and he was gone. Long gone. Besides, I didn’t have anything Greg could want. He’d already cleaned out my savings. I didn’t have anything else for him to steal.

Putting the phone back down, I lifted the curling iron and got to work. I was getting ready to spend the evening with James and I wasn’t going to waste it worrying about some stranger’s drama that had ended up on my phone.

Doing my hair took almost an hour, but it was worth it. I’d curled each section, then twisted it up and pinned in in a pattern that looked like a mess to start, but ended up an elaborate pinwheel of twists and curls.

I rarely had an excuse to get dressed up, but I’d had long hair my entire life, as well as an addiction to watching styling videos on YouTube. I’d been dying to try this one since I’d seen it months ago. It looked as good as I’d hoped.

Paired with the black and cream cocktail dress and glittering gold heels, my elaborate hair and evening make-up looked exactly right. Hopefully, James would agree.

I couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the thought of what my sisters would say when they saw me. I wasn’t a skinny Minnie, but in this dress it didn’t matter. Even my critical eye thought I looked awesome.

On my way out the door, I glanced at my phone, considering. Jessica had sent along a selection of evening purses. I needed one for my lip gloss, but I didn’t need my phone.

Everyone who might call would already be there. As I reached for it, preparing to put it beside the bed, it beeped with another text.

Call me now, you stupid whore
.

Another beep. Then,

Don’t make me hunt you down, Sara
.

A bolt of ice froze my spine as I sank down to sit on the side of the bed.

Whoever this was, they were after me.