“I have the top four floors,” he told her as he led her into a large master bedroom. “I believe my housekeeper put your clothes for tonight in that closet,” he said, placing her in front of a set of double doors. From behind her, he lifted the leather bag off of her shoulder and dumped it onto the floor by the bed. “Want some help getting ready?” he asked, his long, strong arms reaching around her so he could unbutton the jacket she’d so recently buttoned. He slipped it off her shoulders as well, then started on the zipper to her skirt.
She suddenly realized what was happening and spun around. “What are you doing?” she gasped, so confused and overwhelmed she didn’t know which was right and left.
He smiled slightly, looking down into her pretty green eyes. “I’m helping you undress,” he replied as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “We have several parties to attend tonight.”
She shivered as his hands touched her skin but she shook her head, grabbing his wrists. “Tonight?” she asked, wishing she could just sink into that bed behind him and sleep for the next ten hours.
He raised one dark eyebrow. “The gala and the dinner party,” he clarified. “I mentioned them in the car a few moments ago.”
She sighed and looked down, her hands losing all her strength. “I’d forgotten.” She glanced up at him, wide with yet another concern. “I don’t have anything to wear!”
Emerson took pity on her and pulled his hands away, knowing that she didn’t have the energy to either fight him or participate in what he had in mind. “You do. I just mentioned that my housekeeper put your clothes in that closet.”
Rachel’s head spun around and she looked at the double doors. “Clothes?”
“Yes. You’ll need a cocktail dress for tonight’s events.”
“Cocktail dress?”
He chuckled even as he slipped his tie off. “The night is going to be long if you’re going to repeat everything I say.”
She bit her lip as she glanced back at him. He was taking off his shirt and all those feelings he’d ignited in the car moments ago…or was it hours…came right back to her full force as she ached to touch all those extraordinary muscles in his back and on his arms.
She turned her head away and looked at the double doors. For some reason, she didn’t want to open them. She didn’t want to see what was inside. It was a Pandora’s closet. Whatever was inside would be very, very bad.
Inhaling, she took the two steps closer and rested her hand on the cold, metal of the doorknob. Waiting a heartbeat, she let her breath go, closing her eyes and opened the doors. There wasn’t a dead body behind the door, probably not even something ugly. From what she could see of his shockingly huge penthouse, the man had excellent taste. But the possibility of what she would find still scared her. It represented yet another layer of confusion to this incredibly insane day.
Inside the closet, there wasn’t a single cocktail dress hanging innocently on one of the hangers. There weren’t even a few dresses. What the man referred to as “clothes” was actually an entire rainbow of dresses and suits. Two sides of the closet, filled with fabulous, elegant clothing, all still with their tags on them. The sleeves were dangling down, her eyes almost hurting from the sparkles on the evening gowns.
“What is all this?” she whispered, her fingers running over the expensive material of several dresses.
“That’s your power wardrobe,” Emerson called out from the doorway.
She spun around, her eyes catching on his wet hair and bare chest. He was wearing tuxedo slacks already and pulled the tuxedo shirt over his shoulders.
“I need a ‘power wardrobe’?” she asked, her eyes wide, her mouth dry with the expanse of all that delectable skin showing. It reminded her of the first time she’d seen him, which, unfortunately, he was buttoning up the shirt, hiding away what she most wanted to see.
“Everyone needs a power wardrobe. Isn’t that why you wore the red shoes the first time you tried to meet me?” he asked, those black eyebrows rising in challenge. He lifted a dress off of the rack. “Wear this one tonight. You’ll look perfect.”
She took the dress he handed to her without even looking at it, feeling like she wanted to scream. Although she wasn’t sure if the screaming-hissy-fit-melt-down was due to him telling her what to wear or her fatigue. Probably both, not to mention her entire day.
In the end, she couldn’t think well enough to figure it out and she went into autopilot mode. She slipped her skirt and blouse off then pulled the dress up, not really aware of what she was doing or even the color of the dress. When she turned around, she caught herself in the mirror and was stunned by the way the forest green dress sparkled around her figure, making her eyes look even more green than normal.
“Wow!” she whispered to her reflection, sliding her hands down her hips in amazement. The cut of the dress made her waist look several inches smaller while her hips, not necessarily bigger, were definitely sexier although she couldn’t really put her finger on how the simple dress accomplished such a feat.
“Wow!” Emerson said from directly behind her.
She spun around and took in his large, imposing physique in the sophisticated tuxedo. “Wow,” she inadvertently parroted, drinking in all the details. “You look very…nice,” she finally said, feeling shy all of a sudden which didn’t make any sense. She’d been intimate with this man for weeks but he felt like a stranger now. This day just continued to feel surreal.
He looked down into her eyes, his blue ones assessing her state of mind. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.
Rachel wasn’t sure what he was asking her and didn’t want to give away any weakness. She didn’t understand everything, but she knew that the old Jack and the new Emerson were trying to give her a test on whether she could handle this life. And she was going to give it her best shot so no fragility was allowed, take the opportunities, try everything local and live in the moment. Those were the things he’d taught her over the past few weeks and she would apply them to tonight.
“I’m good,” she replied, banking all of her fatigue for later. She could sleep on the weekend, she promised herself. “I just need to get that file and we can be on our way.” She stepped out of his arms and walked around him, digging into her leather bag for the blue file Jennifer had given her earlier today. When she had it in hand, she stood up and turned around, only to find him staring at her bottom.