“Come out. I’ve brought you some things.”
She emerges in a towel, water droplets still clinging to her skin. She looks as beautiful as a sunset over the Mediterranean. I want to recline with a tumbler of the world’s best scotch and just watch her.
“Mr. Morelli…?” she repeats, cheeks now scarlet. “What did you want to give me?”
I keep my face stern. She has no idea how attractive she is, but it’s better that way. Better she doesn’t form bad habits. I extend the largest carrier bag toward her. “For you to wear to dinner.”
“Oh.” She folds an arm across the towel and takes the rope handles. “You didn’t need to… although I guess you did because I didn’t have anything else to wear. But thank you.”
She sits on the bed and opens the bag. The dress emerges in a rush of cream silk. January looks at me. “It’s white…”
“And you’re still a virgin,bella. Go into the bathroom and get changed.”
She hesitates. “It’s a gorgeous dress, but I still need to cook the pastina for the brodo.”
“Gretzky can do it.”
The pinch between her brows makes me smile. “The man can boil pastina,bella. It’s more important you look beautiful for us. Now go put on my dress.”
When she emerges a few minutes later I have to clench my jaw to keep from smiling. She’s exquisite. The dress is backless with a deep slit in the side, and it makes her pale skin shine like moonlight. You can see the lines of her abdomen, the swells of her breast, and the shadow between her legs.
She turns self-consciously. “You don’t like it?”
“This is how a woman with your figure should dress. Now the shoes.”
January returns to the bed, and I pass her the second largest bag. She pulls out the black and white striped box and her eyes widen. “Aquazzura?”
“Surely, you’ve had them before?”
“No. I wasn’t allowed to wear high heels because…” She goes bright red, and I understand. She’s tall for a woman. In heels, she’d tower over Parker.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,bella.”
“I know. I mean, thank you.”
She opens the box, unveiling the sparkling rose-gold heels. “They’rebeautiful.”
I watch as she slides the shoes onto her toes. I don’t usually care for feet but hers are gorgeous, small and white with tiny pink nails.
I hold out the small bag from Bergdorf’s. “Makeup. I’ll leave you to apply it, but I’d like you to wear red lipstick.”
“You picked out makeup for me?”
“I described your coloring to an assistant. I want you to be subtle. Do not overpower your face.”
“Yes, Mr. Morelli.”
I like the way she talks, husky and sweet, just the way a woman should be. “There’s one thing left,” I tell her.
Her green eyes shine up at me. “Yes, Mr. Morelli?”
I pull the ruby necklace from my pocket, the stones glittering in the bedroom light.
She pulls away from me.
“You don’t need to panic. No promises will be made because you wear this necklace. I just want to see it against your skin.”
She shifts back even further onto the bed. “I don’t think… I just…”
