Page 36 of Mistletoe Mistake
How did he always know just what I needed to hear?
“But if you want to be open, for your own sake and not for anyone else, that's what we'll do. Come to the Lytton when you're finished work and I'll take you to dinner before we visit this house of yours. We’ll go somewhere that everyone will see us.”
As wonderful as that sounded, I couldn’t help looking down at the outfit I had chosen for the day. In my rush to meet with Cole that morning, I certainly hadn’t put the effort I could have into looking my best, not to the level required if we were planning to pose for photographs like he had suggested.
From that simple gesture, Cole immediately knew what I was thinking. “I'll have something sent for you to wear.”
“You don't need to buy me things, Cole.” I said it with a smile, but I wanted to make it clear that I meant it. “I don't need your money. That's not our price, remember?”
His eyes flashed once more with that gleam that turned me to putty. “I remember. But I also remember that you like doing what I tell you to, don't you, Gemma?"
Of course I did. He made it feel exciting and dangerous and safe all at the same time. But could we really go back to that? If we were going to be friends and business partners, if he was going to keep being as supportive as he had been that morning, could we really also keep the same dynamic in private as we'd had the night before? How would that even work?
Whatever doubts I had, Cole didn't seem to share them. As he leaned towards me again, my breath caught in my throat.
"What I'm telling you right now is that you are going to dress in whatever I send you. And all night, while you're wearing it, you're going to remember that it belongs to me. I paid for it, just like I paid for every inch of you underneath it. Tonight, you belong entirely to me.”
~Cole~
The clock had only just reached 8:30 when I returned to the Lytton after having breakfast with Gemma, leaving me plenty of time to make some calls and put a few plans in place for that evening before I started work for the day. My suggestion to send Gemma a dress to wear for dinner had been completely impulsive, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. Even better, I knew she liked it too. Wearing the dress I chose and bought for her would turn her on all night, just like it would for me to see her in it, heightening the anticipation for both of us until we were back in my room again.
With the cat already out of the bag thanks to that morning’s papers, I filled Jackson in on everything that had happened with Gemma, at least so far as our general arrangement and the tabloids were concerned. In particular, I told him about my plans for the evening so he knew I’d be unavailable.
“You're actually going to be seen in public with her,” he repeated after I'd finished speaking, looking shell-shocked as he leaned back in his seat. “On a date. On purpose.”
“It's not a real date,” I reminded him. “But yes, I'm going to make sure that we're seen. The press can think what they like. Gemma and I are clear on what this is, so it's no different from me taking any other escort to any other event.”
“Except she's not an escort,” he pointed out.
“For the purposes of our deal, she is.” In my mind, the distinction was completely clear.
"That's bullshit, Cole, and you know it. She's got her own money, right? She's not after yours. You like her as a person and you're attracted to her, so what am I missing? Why not see if there's something more there? Why insist that it has to be a transaction?"
"It's not just about the money." I shouldn't have to explain that to him, of all people. Although money had been the catalyst for what happened with Samantha, the heart of the issue had always been something else, and he'd been there with me through it all. "It's about trust."
"And why don't you trust Gemma?"
As I opened my mouth to reply, I realized I had no real answer to that. Gemma hadn't given me any reason not to trust her, at least not yet, so I kept my response more general. "It's not her, specifically. I don't trust anyone."
He simply shook his head, looking disappointed in me. “It sounds to me like you're in serious denial. Both of you, if she’s agreeing to this madness.”
“I don't remember asking for your opinion.”
“You didn't, but I'd like to go on the record now, so that once you finally figure it out, I get to be the one to say I told you so.”
Giving him a stern look, I changed the subject to work and we moved on. However, I couldn’t ignore that as the day went on, my eyes strayed to the clock much more frequently than usual. My impatience grew with each passing hour until I couldn't wait to be finished with the day's work and to see Gemma come in the door wearing the dress I had sent her.
Finally, five o'clock arrived, and shortly afterwards, I received a text.
Followed all your instructions. I'm on my way now, should be there in ten minutes. G
A thrill of anticipation shivered down my spine at her choice of words. If she’d followedallmy instructions, she would be arriving in the items I had picked out for her and nothing else. That thought had blood rushing to my dick almost immediately.
When I made my way down to the lobby, I could see the photographers on the sidewalk outside, as planned. Nellie had given them an 'anonymous' tip to let them know they would have a good chance of catching Gemma and I together either here or at the restaurant. A few already lingered outside and I suspected there would be more at the restaurant too. We shouldn’t be missed.
Sure enough, a couple of flashes went off to warn me of Gemma’s arrival before I laid eyes on her for myself. As she walked through the door with her head held high and a mischievous, satisfied smile on her face, not a single person in the lobby could keep from staring at her. She looked absolutely incredible.
Her red hair had been swept up elegantly into a twisted bun. The dress I had chosen was a deep, rusty red, just a shade or two darker than her hair, with spaghetti straps, a square neck, a form-fitting bodice that hugged every inch of her curves, and a deep slit up one side of the floor length skirt, revealing almost her entire left leg and the high silver heels she wore. A rented diamond necklace reflected the light as she moved, but even its reflection paled in comparison to the sparkle in her gorgeous green eyes.
