Two long racks were already filled with silks, linens, and fine wools. Ronan settled into a leather armchair as if it were a throne. “Let’s see if Natalie’s eye matches mine.”
The next hour became a blur. Ronan’s critiques were immediate and maddeningly specific. “The sleeve length is wrong,” he said about a cream blouse. “The color washes her out,” he said about a camel-toned dress.
Eventually, Natalie smoothly pulled a breezy linen sundress in sea green from the rack. “Actually, for a casual luncheon on the terrace, this might be more the speed. Casual but elegant.”
“That looks appropriately nautical,” Devney said, touching the fabric.
“It’s perfect,” Ronan said, cutting in before Natalie could finish. His attention caught hers in the mirror, and something in his expression made her breath catch. “The color brings out your eyes.”
Heat sparked through her as she took the dress to the dressing room. When she emerged, his reaction was subtle but unmistakable—his shoulders squared, his gaze sharpening.
“Well?” she said. “Am I Beauchamp-worthy yet?”
“It’s acceptable,” he said, though his eyes said more.
Natalie moved to the final section of the rack. “Now for the water activities. There will be swimming.”
Natalie brought several options, all more elegant than Devney’s faded one-piece at home. Devney hesitated, eyeing a navy one-piece with a plunging neckline. “I’ll try them,” she said, then added with a glance at him, “but you’re not getting a preview.”
His mouth curved. “You know I’m going to see it this weekend.”
“That’s different,” she said quickly, heat blooming along her neck. “That’s…situational.”
She retreated and slipped it on. It felt more Vineyard than Malibu. Sophisticated. Polished. After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped herself in a plush robe and stepped out. “I’m getting this one,” she said.
“We’ll take it,” Ronan told Natalie, “along with the sea-green sundress, the sailing outfit, the emerald gown, and…”—his gaze slid to Devney—“the swimsuit.”
When she returned from changing, he was examining the swimsuit Natalie had laid out.
“Is it bad?”
He shook his head. “Not bad for the swimsuit. Bad for my concentration. You’ll look perfect in it.”
As she gathered her things, his attention drifted to her left hand and the sunflower ring.
“That thing is atrocious,” he said. “I would never buy anything so garish.”
“Until you pony up for a replacement that’s new and real, this is what we’ve got. Besides, it has character.”
He considered her for a long moment. “Noted. Are we done here?”
“Actually, I’m starving,” she said. “But it’s my turn to pick.”
Thirty minutes later, he was staring at Tony’s Pizzeria with visible dismay.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Absolutely serious,” she said, pulling him through the door and directly to a booth at the back. “Tony’s makes the best pizza in the city. Relax. No one here cares who you are or how much your watch costs.”
Without thinking, she reached across the table, her fingers snagging the silk of his tie. As her knuckles grazed the warm skin of his throat, the muscle beneath her touch locked. He sat perfectly still, a sharp, sudden intensity taking hold as his dark gaze trapped hers.
“If you’re going to sit in a pizza joint, at least try to look like you’re not planning a hostile takeover.”
“Devney.” His voice was a low warning, but his mouth quirked at the corner as he met her eyes.
“Better. Now unbutton your collar.”
With a resigned exhale, he obliged. A single undone button, a tiny rebellion, and somehow it made her heart thump harder. Seeing him a little undone felt unexpectedly intimate.
