Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) (23 page)

“Charlie Rivers is one of our doormen,” Shane said to Beth.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Beth said.

They stepped through the automatic doors to a sunny, early Sunday afternoon. Beth waved at Cooper, who stood leaning against a black Lexus SUV parked in the circular drive. He looked awfully hot in jeans, a t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, although it was awfully warm out to be wearing a jacket.

She was perfectly comfortable in a casual skirt, sleeveless blouse, and sandals. Shane looked edible in a pair of torn blue jeans and a faded t-shirt. She had to admit she liked how his chest and arms filled out that t-shirt. It made her want to peel it right off of him.

“Where to?” Cooper asked, as he opened the rear passenger door. Beth scooted into the vehicle, followed closely by Shane.

“Sylvia’s,” Shane said, reaching for Beth’s seatbelt.

Beth rolled her eyes at him as he buckled her in.

“Indulge me,” he said. “You know I like to take care of you.”

Thinking of how he’d taken care of her in the night – twice! – she smiled.

Shane’s gaze locked on her mouth, and when he leaned closer, his intent was obvious. He was going to kiss her. Really kiss her, right in front of Cooper. Her gaze darted nervously to the front seat, to the back of Cooper’s head.

“Don’t worry about him,” Shane whispered. His mouth was demanding as it covered hers, his lips parting hers so that his tongue could slip inside. When the radio came on, Beth jumped and pulled away from Shane. She glanced nervously at Cooper, then back at Shane and shook her head.

Smothering a grin, Shane settled back in his seat and reached for her hand.

Cooper parked the Lexus in a reserved VIP spot in front of an exclusive women’s boutique on N. Michigan Avenue in the exclusive Magnificent Mile shopping district.

“Don’t wait around for us,” Shane told Cooper, as he helped Beth out of the car. “When we’re done here, we’ll walk to the restaurant for lunch. I’ll call you when we’re ready to be picked up.”

Cooper nodded. “I’ll leave the car here and walk a while. I have some errands to take care of.”

As Cooper walked away, Shane took Beth’s hand and led her to the front entrance of the boutique. She hesitated when she noticed the array of exquisite cocktail dresses and evening gowns on display in the shop’s windows. Apparently Shane’s idea of dressing up was a little different from hers. This place was way beyond her means.

“What’s wrong?” Shane said, stopping when Beth held back.

“This place looks really expensive, Shane,” she said, eyeing the displays. “I can’t afford anything here. I know some nice consignment shops where we can find something pretty reasonable.”

“Don’t worry about the price, Beth,” he said. “I’m paying for the dress. And shoes, too. It’s the least I can do, since I asked you to be my date.”

Shoes?
Of course she’d need shoes. She had nothing to wear with a dress like this.

When Beth opened her mouth to object, Shane said, “The owner is my sister Sophie’s best friend. Don’t worry; she’ll give us a good deal.”

Shane tried to gently tug her forward, but she still resisted.

A woman dressed in a scarlet pencil skirt, tailored white blouse, and four-inch red heels caught sight of them through the windows and waved eagerly at Shane.

Shane waved back. “That’s Sylvia Jackson. She’s the owner.”

Sylvia opened the door and waved them in. “Shane! How are you? Please, come in.”

“Hello, Sylvia,” Shane said, as he ushered Beth inside with an encouraging hand on her back.

Beth tried not to gawk at the exquisite merchandise on display, from the clothing to the shoes to the accessories. She glanced at a rack of hand-painted silk scarves and saw a price tag of $575.
For a scarf!
She was completely out of her element.

Sylvia Jackson was a strikingly beautiful woman. She had silky straight hair, black as ink, that hung to her jaw line in a sophisticated bob. Her red lipstick, perfectly matched to her skirt and heels, contrasted dramatically with her pale complexion. Her nose was slender, but it fit her oval face well. Her dark eyes were expertly outlined in kohl.

“What can I do for you today?” Sylvia said, assessing Beth with an interested gaze.

Shane pulled Beth close, tucking her against his side. “Sylvia, this is Beth Jamison, my… girlfriend. She needs a dress and shoes for the Children’s Hospital fundraiser next weekend.”

Beth didn’t miss how Sylvia’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted when Shane called her his girlfriend. She was embarrassed to admit it, even to herself, but she’d felt a small thrill when Shane had said it. Was that really how he saw her? Was that what they were doing? The whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing?

Sylvia beamed. “I’m sure we can find something to Beth’s liking.”

“Something appropriate,” Shane added.

Sylvia looked at Shane, her expression curious. “Appropriate?”

“Not too revealing,” he said.

“I’m sure we’ll find the perfect dress,” Sylvia said. “If you’ll both follow me, I’ll show you to the private viewing room.”

They followed Sylvia through a curtained doorway at the rear of the store and found themselves in a secluded room decorated in rich burgundy with gold accents. At one end of the room, a long, plush burgundy sofa was situated strategically to have a perfect view of the staging area, which was a small stage surrounded by three tall, gilded freestanding mirrors.

“Help yourself to coffee, Shane, and have a seat,” Sylvia said. She glanced from Shane to Beth. “Did you have any particular color or style in mind?”

Shane took a seat on the sofa and leaned back, crossing his leg and settling in. “Whatever Beth wants,” he said.

“Why don’t you come with me to the dressing room?” Sylvia said to Beth. “I’ll bring you some selections to try on.”

Beth followed Sylvia through a curtained doorway into an enormous dressing room lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

“Size 7?” Sylvia said.

Beth nodded. “Yes.”

“What colors do you like?”

Beth shrugged. “I like a lot of colors,” she said. “I really don’t have a favorite.”

“Why don’t you get undressed, while I go grab some things for you to try,” Sylvia said, heading for a door. “Hang your clothes on that rack there.”

Beth removed her skirt and blouse and hung them up, standing self-consciously in her panties and bra. Sylvia returned quickly with a wheeled clothing rack that held at least a dozen dresses in a rainbow of colors and a variety of lengths and styles.

“Let’s start with this one,” Sylvia said, chuckling as she pulled a tiny red sequined dress off its hanger.

Beth could tell just by looking that the dress was a no-go, at least as far as she was concerned. Even if by some miracle the dress did fit her, she’d never wear it in public. Skimpy, slinky dresses just weren’t her style.

Sylvia slipped the tiny sheath dress over Beth’s head, and it felt about two sizes too small as Sylvia tugged it down her body. Sylvia stepped aside, and Beth gaped at herself in the mirror. Leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, the dress was strapless, with an extremely low-cut neckline that blatantly displayed the inside curves of her breasts and a hemline that barely covered her buttocks. She wouldn’t be able to bend over without indecently exposing herself, and the slit up one side would make it impossible to wear anything other than a thong underneath. She felt completely exposed, and she was certain it would fail Shane’s ‘not too revealing’ edict.

“The red looks amazing on you, with your hair and complexion,” Sylvia said. “Shane will love it. What man doesn’t love a woman in a red dress, right? What do you think?”

“Well,” Beth said, trying to find a polite way of saying she hated it.

“I’ll go grab the shoes. I know just the pair. What size do you wear?”

“Seven,” Beth said.

“I’ll be right back.”

Sylvia returned with a pair of champagne-colored shoes with four-inch stiletto heels. “Manolo Blahnik,” she said. “We just got them in yesterday, and they’re perfect with this dress. Here, try them on, and then we’ll show Shane.”

Beth steadied herself against the back of the armchair as she slipped on the shoes, trying her best not to topple over. Once she had the shoes on, she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling like an absolute fraud. This was so not her.

“Sylvia, the dress is lovely,” Beth said, striving for diplomacy, “but I don’t think it’s quite me.”

Sylvia’s brow furrowed. “But you look amazing! Own it, sister. Flaunt it.”

Beth shrugged. “Thank you, but it’s just not me.”

Sylvia sighed. “All right. But let’s at least show Shane, okay? It’ll be fun to watch his reaction.”

Shane was answering a text message from Jake when Beth walked into the room. When he heard her approach, he stowed his phone and looked up.

“Hell no!” he said, shooting to his feet. “Damn it, Sylvia! I said ‘appropriate.’ What part of that outfit is appropriate?”

Sylvia seemed genuinely taken aback. “What do you mean? This is perfectly appropriate for the hospital fundraiser. And she looks gorgeous!”

“That’s not the point,” Shane said. “When I said ‘appropriate,’ I meant appropriate for
her
.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Sylvia asked, clearly confused. “I admit it’s a little on the skimpy side, but look at her, Shane. She looks amazing! Not many women can pull off a dress like this, but she can. And you love red!”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” Beth said. Truthfully, she didn’t like the dress, and she had no intention of wearing it anywhere. But she was as baffled by Shane’s reaction as Sylvia. And what did ‘appropriate for
her’
mean, anyway?

Shane ran his fingers through his hair. “Come on, Sylvia!” he said. “That’s a fuck-me dress, and those are fuck-me shoes. I’m not taking her anywhere dressed like that. I want something appropriate.”

Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest. “Define ‘appropriate’ if you don’t mind,” she said, her voice tight.

“I meant something suitable for
her
. Something modest,” Shane said.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this dress,” Sylvia said, clearly frustrated. “And when did you become such a prude?”

Shane sent Sylvia a scathing look, but when he turned his attention to Beth, his expression immediately softened. “You look stunning in that dress, sweetheart,” he said, laying his hands on her bare shoulders. “You really do. And if you like the dress, we’ll buy it. But it’s not the kind of dress I want you to wear to the fundraiser. Please choose something a little more… conservative. Something that, uh, covers more of you. And something not red. Anything but red.”

Shane looked at Sylvia, his expression hardening. “And Sylvia, lose the fuck-me heels.”

Chapter 21

Beth followed Sylvia back to the dressing room, trying hard not to fall flat on her face as she struggled to walk in four-inch stilettos. She held still while Sylvia peeled the skin-tight dress off her body.

“You’ve really done a number on him, Beth,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “I’ve known Shane McIntyre since grade school, and I’ve never seen him like this with a woman. On any other woman, he would have gone for that red dress in a heartbeat. So what’s your secret?”

Beth shrugged. “I just met him last week,” she said, crossing her arms defensively over her chest as she stood there feeling very self-conscious in her panties and bra.

“You’re kidding me,” Sylvia said, wrinkling her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “You realize he’s one of the most sought after bachelors in Chicago. I can’t even count the number of women who’ve tried to snare Shane McIntyre. There’s probably a support group out there for them. He’s a serial dater, with one gorgeous woman after another on his arm. He treats his women well – no one has ever accused him of being stingy – but his heart’s never in it. And now look at him! I thought he was going to throttle me out there for
daring
to put you in a slinky red dress.”

Sylvia hung up the offending red dress. “How old are you anyway?” she asked, glancing back at Beth.

“Twenty-four,” Beth said.

“You look young for your age,” Sylvia said. “Maybe that’s it. He usually dates women his own age, sometimes older. I’ll bet he sees you as this young virginal princess who needs protecting. Dear God, you’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Of course not,” she chuckled, dismissing the idea as preposterous. Technically it was true. After last night, she wasn’t a virgin any longer.

Sylvia’s expression changed abruptly and her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, he’s fallen in love.” She looked thunderstruck.

“No,” Beth said, laughing nervously. “We just met. We hardly know each other.”

Sylvia shook her head. “Honey, there’s no accounting for how and when people fall in love. Sometimes it just happens. He must have taken one look at you, and wham!”

Sylvia started pacing just as her face lit up with a huge grin. “I need to rethink this. He sees you as wife material, so he’s not looking for a sexpot dress. We need something that is arguably modest, but still sexy. You’ll want to keep him on his toes next weekend, trust me. I’ve been to these fundraisers. It’s a meat market. Women will be crawling all over him, regardless of the fact that he’s there with a date. I think I have just the thing,” she said. “Wait here.”

Sylvia returned a few minutes later with an ice blue chiffon dress slung over her arm and a pair of low-heeled, gold sandals dangling from her fingers.

“Here we go,” Sylvia said, setting the shoes on the floor. “It’s modest – demure, even – yet it’s sexy as hell. Let’s try it on you. It’s not too low in the neckline, and it’s certainly not too short, but it still screams ‘sexy baby.’”

Sylvia slipped the dress over Beth’s head, and it felt wonderful as it cascaded, loose and silky, over her body.

Beth glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, wow,” she breathed. It was totally vintage. “I love it! It’s beautiful.”