Various States of Undress: Virginia (10 page)

What the fuck were they talking about? Dex shook his head and walked over to stand at Virginia's elbow. “I think you've had enough Clicquot,” he whispered near her ear. She jerked around, and the scent of her hair did funny things to his breathing. He ignored it. “Hello, Virginia.”

She smiled widely. “Oh, hi, Dex. What brings you here?” She flicked back a lock of hair from her face and smoothed her short, wildly patterned dress before glancing at Stacey. Stacey raised her eyebrows expectantly. Dex ignored that too and took Virginia's hand. “I want to show you something on the first floor.”

“Oh? Right now?”

“Mmm.” He gave her hand a tug, but she resisted, so he gave her a grin—a grin that said
I'll make a scene if you don't
. She got it, immediately, and narrowed her eyes the slightest bit, narrowing them more when he chuckled.

“Ginny, are you going to introduce your friend?” Stacey asked loudly.

Virginia turned her head. “I was
about
to. This is Dex Cameron. Dex, meet Stacey. She's a good friend of mine and one of the city's best personal shoppers. Here are some other people who work in the fashion industry.” She gestured with an exaggerated sweeping motion.

Great. So she was tipsy
and
pissed off—not a good combination. Trying to cover her rudeness, Dex stuck out a hand. “Pleasure to—”

“Aren't these adorable?” Virginia stuck out one of her ridiculously high heels, grabbing Dex's arm to steady herself. The hangers-on murmured their agreement, but their previous enthusiasm had died down. Instead, they looked at her with a curiosity that bordered on predatory. Dex groaned internally. So this is how she got in trouble in public—she let her emotions, and alcohol, get the best of her. Well, not today.

“They're not as adorable as you are,” he said, forcing a teasing tone. Taking her arm, he nodded to the semicircle of fashionistas. “Nice to meet you, but like I said, Virginia and I—” What was the excuse he'd given a few minutes ago? He was too angry to care, actually. “We need to go.”

Stacey's eyes got big and she grabbed Virginia's other arm. “No, no, no! Ginny—you haven't seen the boot collection yet.”

“I have to see the boots,” Virginia sang out and allowed Stacey to pull her a few feet toward a display.

Dex tugged gently in the other direction. “Another time.”

“But—” Stacey began. Dex cut her off with a cool smile. “Be seeing you, Stacey, I'm sure.” He put his hand at the small of Virginia's back and guided her toward the elevator. Outside of the trunk show area, there were average shoppers everywhere, and most of them did a double take when they saw her.

Suddenly, Virginia pulled away from Dex, lost her balance, and crashed into a small display of costume jewelry, which cascaded to the floor. Cards of earrings bounced everywhere, and, as Dex watched in horror, Virginia's arms pinwheeled as she stumbled sideways and clutched onto the first available support—a mannequin wearing a halter top. By the time Virginia had righted herself, the tube top was around the mannequin's waist. Two seconds later, the elevator dinged, and Dex moved as fast as he could to guide her into the car, thankful that it was empty. As the doors shut, he nodded at the people standing slack-jawed on the third floor, and then he turned to Virginia.

“Oh my God! Stupidest accident ever. I can't believe that just happened,” she squealed.

“Forget about what just happened. Where the hell have you been? And why haven't you returned any of my calls? Don't you realize I've had to put Lilah's on hold for the better part of a week because you haven't bothered to do anything?”

“I haven't bothered to do anything? Really.” With a shrug, she folded her arms. “I'm not going to answer questions right now, Dex. I'm too flustered.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You did manage to turn a mannequin into a stripper.”

“I couldn't help it. I stumbled,” Virginia groaned. “I
knew
I shouldn't have let Stacey talk me into these shoes.”

“The shoes aren't at fault,” Dex muttered.

She looked up at him. “What are you implying?”

“You're drunk.”

“Says who? Maybe you're the drunk one—you haven't pushed any buttons yet.”

He glared at her. “I haven't? Says who?”

She let out a huge sigh. “What floor are we going to? And why the hell did you need to drag me out of a trunk show to show
me
something at Saks?”

“I don't have anything to show you, Virginia. I just needed to pull you out of there.” She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “I'm not going to answer any of your questions right now, either.” Dex glanced at the buttons and pushed the one that would take them to street level. “But I am going to take you home.”

“No. My Secret Service is going to take me home.” Her eyes got big. “Oh my God! Where's my agent?”

Dex's head jerked up. That was a good question. And he got an answer the minute the elevator dinged open. Two agents were standing in a defensive line, their faces grim. One of them was Larry. “Miss Fulton,” he said, and took her arm.

“Muscles, I didn't mean to scoot out of that trunk show without telling you,” she said. “How did you get down here so fast?”

“The stairs. I only had to shove a few people out of the way.” He nodded at her. “Where to?”

“Her place,” Dex supplied, fully expecting Virginia to protest, but she astonished him by turning around with a smile. “Yep. And Dex is coming with.”

Larry nodded again and propelled her past the crowd that had begun to gather. She really couldn't go
anywhere
without attracting onlookers, could she? For a moment, Dex felt a flash of compassion for Virginia—but only a flash, because he was still mad at her.

As they climbed into the waiting SUV outside, Virginia yanked on her seatbelt. “I'm pissed at you,” she declared. “That's why I didn't call you back.”

“Oh yeah? Why are
you
pissed?” He turned to look at her, but she stared straight ahead.

“Save it,” she muttered. “I'd rather discuss it in private.”

He managed to hold his tongue as the SUV weaved through traffic. He assumed it would be a short ride because she probably lived somewhere nearby, but to his surprise, they went south and east, turned onto First Avenue and stopped in front of a building at Tudor City. It was nice enough—but awfully modest for someone as high profile as Virginia.

She must have noticed his surprise, because she snorted. “Don't be a snob, Dex. There's nothing wrong with where I live. It's secure, and since we're right across from the UN, there are tons of diplomatic attachés who live here.”

He shrugged. “I didn't say a word.”

“Yeah, well, let's keep it that way,” she shot back. “Because I'm going to give you an earful when we get inside.”

Dex planned to do the same thing, but he didn't say any more as he followed her into the Gothic lobby and onto an elevator. Then he waited silently with her while her agents quickly checked her apartment. They didn't say anything either, only gave her brief nods and disappeared into the next-door apartment.

With a sigh, she sailed into her living room and threw herself onto a sofa. “Now
they're
pissed. Wonderful.”

“Does that happen often?” Dex asked. He perched on the arm next to her.

“What are you trying to do, make me feel worse?” She crossed her long legs, reached down to remove one of the lethal looking pumps, and then flung it to the floor. The other one followed with a thump. Her lips parted and she gazed up at him. “Let's get some things cleared up.”

“Okay.” He looked away from her lush lips and gripped the arm of the sofa to keep from hauling her onto his lap. He shouldn't want to kiss her, but damned if he hadn't since the moment he'd caught sight of her today.

“I'm assuming your sister told you where I was,” Virginia said, “and from the catty look on her face, I think it's safe to say that she couldn't wait to run to you with the news.”

“You're right. She's not a pleasant person, and her entire purpose in life seems to be one-upping me. But when she told me you were drunk, I couldn't just shrug that off. I had to—”

She stood up. “What? Come babysit me? I'm an adult, Dex.”

“You could have fooled me. Why didn't you return my calls?”

“Because even after I said yes to the job offer, you acted as though I wasn't going to keep my promise. You used the attraction between us to seal the deal. That's bullshit. I'm not flighty and undependable, and I don't need to be kissed into doing my job,” she burst out.

He stared at her but didn't know what to say because a small part of him wondered if she wasn't right. He had said the words “seal the deal,” hadn't he? He hoped his confusion didn't show. “I wasn't thinking that at the time,” he finally said, but from the look on her face, she didn't believe him.

“So why did you goad me into kissing you?” she asked suddenly.

The question took him completely off guard. “Because I wanted you to. I wanted . . . you. I have fun with you, Virginia, and I feel good when I'm around you. I thought you felt the same way, but since you seem to have had such a negative reaction, I guess not.”

“I'm not sure that you want anything from me but my help with Lilah's,” she said in a flat tone that belied the vulnerability in her large brown eyes. “And when Lilah's is fixed, you can go right uptown to Cameron's corporate offices and settle into the CEO chair.”

“That's not true.” And it wasn't. She had no clue about the hoops he still had to jump through before his ass was planted in that coveted seat. She didn't know about London and the fact that he'd probably be overseas for two years, minimum. He looked at her. “I want . . .” He paused. What did he want? All he knew was that his desire for her didn't have anything to do with the insane career path he'd chosen. Telling her about it would only complicate things.

“I think about kissing you all the time, and it has nothing to do with Lilah's. Nothing to do with who you are.” He slid down next to her. “I mean, who you are on the outside.” She raised an eyebrow, and Dex grimaced. “I didn't mean how you look.” He gestured at her slinky dress. “Which is amazing. I meant . . .” Damn, he was getting tongue-tied, as usual, but he wanted to set things straight. “I meant . . . it doesn't have anything to do with you being famous and . . . oh hell.”

She gazed at him, and he could tell that she wanted to believe him. “Okay. Let me explain what happened at Saks. I'm not drunk. I had two glasses of champagne back there, and I was playing a part. Fashion is a strange world, Dex, and being lively—even fake—at a party is expected. It's all part of the game, and I was right in the middle of that game when you took me out. I was speaking with buyers and designers and working some of the connections I need for Lilah's. Stacey has a lot of connections, and with her help, I'm making my own.”

“You hired Stacey?”

“No. It's nothing formal. She's a generous friend who's excited about my work, and she knows that when I can return the favor, I will. She probably seemed silly to you, but when it comes to fashion, she's dead serious.” Virginia snapped her fingers and continued in a sarcastic tone. “Oh, speaking of dead serious, I have something to show
you
.” Without waiting for a response, she left the room and came back quickly, holding a laptop, which she set on the small coffee table. Then she opened it and clicked a file on the desktop. “Here. See what you think. I'm going to change out of this dress.” She walked away again.

Dex scooted forward and stared at the screen. It was a proposal—a very detailed one—for the transformation of Lilah's. He scrolled slowly through the basics, which included sensual window displays and new streamlined layouts throughout the first floor. Virginia had addressed everything from customer traffic patterns to mood music. It was both logical and exciting, and, as he continued to scroll, he stopped to click open photos—each of them containing edgy models wearing provocative ensembles. But there was an unexpected undertone of the classic, the exclusive, to all of it—it was sexy elegance, he realized. It was high fashion.

Virginia appeared in a doorway. “What do you think?”

He looked up at her guarded expression and then let his gaze wander over her soft sweater that clung in just the right places. She wore a pair of jeans that drove him crazy, and her feet were bare. Simple—yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. “I think you're beautiful,” he said.

She started to smile, but shook her head. “Thanks. But I meant my proposal.”

“It's truly impressive. And I have complete faith in your abilities, so it goes without saying that it's approved.” He stood up. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

“Wait, what? What about you being pissed at me?”

He nodded, buying time to figure out what to say. What
could
he say? That he wanted her even though their relationship ought to be all business? “Yeah. I've been pissed for days about you not contacting me, and at the same time, I . . . haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you. It's been confusing, to say the least.”

She looked at him for a moment. “Confusing. I can agree with that.”

“You've thought about kissing me, too?”

“Yes. It's not a good idea, you know.”

“I know.” But all he wanted to do right now was take a step forward and gather her into his arms. He suppressed a sigh. “But I'm attracted to you.”

“And pissed at me,” she added, a smile playing around her lips.

“Yes. You should have at least texted me at some point during the last ninety-six hours.”

“You counted the hours?”