Raven glanced between them.Plenty of time for what?
CHAPTER 9
London
Raven had never seenanything like it. The moment they stepped into the exclusive London boutique, the scent of expensive perfume, rich leather, and freshly steamed fabrics surrounded her. The lighting was soft, casting a golden glow on the pristine white walls and rows of couture gowns. It was the kind of place that whispered exclusivity, where clerks attended to customers like royalty and price tags were merely suggestions for the ultra-wealthy.
Vector moved through the store witheffortless dominance, his presence commanding immediate attention. The boutique staff snapped to attention, their polite smiles turning deferential as they recognizedthe kind of man who didn’t ask for things—he took them.
Raven hesitated near the entrance, her hands brushing over a silk gown that felt too luxurious for her to touch.This wasn’t her world.This wasn’ther life.
Vector turned, his emerald eyes locking onto her with sharp amusement. “You’re not just going to stand there, are you?”
She exhaled, straightening her spine. “I don’t need any of this.”
His smirk deepened. “That’s not the point.”
He nodded to one of the attendants, a sleekly dressed woman with a professional smile. “She’ll try everything.”
Raven’s mouth opened to protest, but before she could, the woman was already ushering her toward the changing rooms, arms laden withlace, silk, and velvet in shades she had never dared to wear.
They moved throughone exclusive boutique after another, Vector’sdominance and indulgence intertwining in equal measure. He handpicked dresses, lingerie that made her blush, heels that made her legs look impossibly long. He was attentive, but more than that—he was possessive.
By the time they reached their final stop,their arms were all heavy with bags, and her head was spinning from the sheer excess of it all.
She turned to him, eyes searching. “Why are you doing this?”
Vector reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touchalmost tender, but tinged with control. “Because I want you to have the best,” he murmured. “And because you’re mine.”
Her heart pounded at those words,dangerous and thrilling all at once. She should fight him on this.But the terrifying part was—she didn’t want to.
Vector moved through the store witheffortless dominance, his presence commanding immediate attention. The boutique staff snapped to attention, their polite smiles turning deferential as they recognizedthe kind of man who didn’t ask for things—he took them.
Raven hesitated near the entrance, her hands brushing over a silk gown that felt too luxurious for her to touch.The dark, emerald green reminded her of his eyes, and she shook her head to clear it of the Vector induced insanity. She did notwear clothes because they reminded her of a man’s eyes. A sexy, dangerous, kissable man with more money than sense. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be allowing him to buy her so much, spoil her. None of this was real. She really really needed to remember that. She’d finish this job and keep the clothes. That was it. Right?
Erik was paying her to keep Vector occupied, to convince him that life was worth living. She had to keep her wits about her. She was no diva, no gorgeous model or princess. This wasn’t her world.This wasn’ther life. This life—and the sinfully attractive man acting like an obsessed lover—weren’t hers to keep. This was all temporary.
She dropped her hand to her side, let the soft emerald fabric slip out of her fingers. If she tried it on, he would buy it for her. If she had this dress, she would think of him every single time she wore it, saw it, looked at it in her closet. She didn’t have anywhere to wear a dress this beautiful. Buying it would mean not only signing herself up for future mental torment but would be a complete waste of money.
Turning, she caught Vector watching her, his emerald eyes locking onto her with sharp amusement. “You’re not just going to stand there, are you? That dress was made for you.”
Ten minutes later, she had to admit he was right. The dress looked amazing. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin. Raven barely had time to adjust beforeVector appeared, leaning against the entrance of the fitting area.
“You shouldn’t be back here.”
He ignored the reprimand, clearly used to ignoring any rule or societal norm he didn’t feel applied to him—or his money. She had to admit, being treated like a princess by every employee in every boutique was far superior to the annoyed looks and haggard urgency she was used to when shopping.
“Beautiful.” His gazeraked over her slowly, deliberately, a primal sort of appreciation burning behind his eyes. “Turn around.”
Her breath caught. “Excuse me?”
“Turn. Around.” His voice was lower now, rougher. “I want to see all of you.”
Something about the way he said it—a command, not a request—sent a flush creeping up her neck. She shouldn’t want to obey, but she found herself turning anyway, eager to see desire darken his gaze as the fabric whispering as it moved with her. Feminine power coursed through her, for the first time in her life, she truly felt beautiful. Desirable. Seductive. She added an extra tilt to her hips, thrust her shoulders back so the gown would hang low over the curve of her breasts, teasing him.
When she faced him again, his expression was unreadable, buthis fingers flexed at his sides, as if restraining himself. “This one,” he told the attendant. “We’ll take it. And I want one in red. Fire red. Ruby red.”
She looked great in red, always had, but she didn’t have anywhere to wear the green dress. She sure as hell didn’t need two of them. “I don’t need two dresses.” Raven rolled her eyes. “And I like the green. You can’t just decide what I wear.”
