I cleared my throat. “You do know I can’t afford much, right? I barely had enough money to pay for gas to get to Vegas.”
His hand curled around my elbow, and even that light touch made my breath hitch and my thighs clench together. “Hannah, I would never expect you to pay for any of this. It’s my gift to you.”
I bit my lip. “And what do you want in exchange?”
“Only the pleasure of your company.”
He led me inside the first shop, where a sign over the door read Versace. It was all white, with white leather couches, white floors, white tables. The only thing that wasn't white in the whole room was the clothes we had on and the name of the shop printed repeatedly on the floor in gold.
As soon as we walked in, a saleswoman ran from the other side of the room, her pert bob bouncing in her haste. "Mr. Ifer," the saleswoman exclaimed. For a second, I thought she was going to curtsy. "It's such a pleasure to see you. How can we assist you today?”
“Please measure my companion and bring us an assortment of clothing for her to browse.”
With wide eyes the saleswoman turned to rush from the room, giving me the impression of a startled deer. She was terrified of him, I realized. Was everyone in this city?
He sat on the edge of one of the couches, then patted the spot beside him for me. I shook my head, too intimidated to sit down.
Within moments, more salespeople ran in and out of the room with clothes on racks, hanging them in front of me. I could only gawk at the expensive clothes, soft fabrics, and shimmering materials. Someone handed me a bottle of ice-cold water with a fancy-looking label I didn’t recognize, and I took a sip, my throat dry. I hated to admit that the water tasted better than any water I normally purchased for myself. Shit, I usually drank tap water, even when it tasted like dirt or was so sun-heated it rivaled the temperature of my coffee.
“Try on anything you like.” Lucas waved in the general direction of the clothes. “It’s all yours, should you desire it.”
Suddenly, I felt very small and very alone, surrounded by all of these nice things I couldn’t afford, under the complete control of a man who could either shower me with riches and gifts or end my life altogether, if he so chose.
“Lucas,” I said, trying to speak to him around the rush of people. “I can’t accept all these expensive clothes.”
He stood up and crossed the room to me, then took my chin in his hand as he gazed into my eyes. “You can and you will. After all, if you’re going to be seen in public with me over the next few days, you need to look the part.”
I swallowed, my throat dry again, and this time from the mix of lust and fear pulsing inside me. “Is this some kind of Pretty Woman thing?”
“Not at all. I’m not paying for your body. I only bargained for your time.” His thumb trailed across my lower lip, tracing sensual patterns that made me breathless. “And as part of spending time together, I demand you dress properly for the occasion. I assure you, I will not miss the money, and the gifts come with no strings attached.”
I nodded slowly, hypnotized by his eyes and the low, melodious sound of his voice, not to mention the way he touched me—like he owned me already. He looked at me as if nothing else existed in the entire city, and it was hard not to want to be his completely.
I tried on some of the clothes and set aside the ones I liked, but then I found myself wanting to put some back. It just seemed like way too much, especially when I glimpsed a price tag. My monthly rent to Brandy could pay for one of the shirt sleeves and that was about it.
“She’ll take it all,” Lucas said in a commanding voice. “Pack it up and send it to my penthouse.”
The treatment was the same at the next several stores, with the result of my head spinning and me feeling like some sort of kept woman. Or a mob boss’s wife. That was probably more accurate.
We sped through Louis Vuitton, where he insisted on the rarest bag they had. Apparently, only three had been made, and I got one of them. I carried it on my arm—empty— to the next store, stiff as a corpse as Lucas wound an arm around my waist. I tried not to lean into him, but it was pretty much impossible, especially when he was so much bigger than I was and my body seemed determined to melt against him, even when my brain said it was a bad idea.
Fendi, Prada, Chanel. We got more clothes, plus matching shoes and accessories, creating a wardrobe fit for a princess, but one I could never wear in my normal life. Why would I need so many clothes for a week’s worth of time? I kept trying to tell Lucas it was enough, but he ignored me. At one point I saw an outfit I loved, and he must’ve read my mind or something because I was very careful not to show any reaction. I didn’t want him to think I was taking advantage of his generosity when really the weight of it left me cold, but he told the salespeople to pack it up like everything else.
The next stop was Tiffany’s. I hesitated at the door, below the sign in the iconic blue. “Lucas, really. This is too much.”
“I insist.”
He took my hand and I didn’t react quickly enough to stop him. With a short tug, he had me walking through the door and into another private
