Risky Obsession (Wolf Security #3)

16. Lacey/Tory

CHAPTER 16

Lacey/Tor y

K ane’s fingers lingered on my skin, and a silent beat crossed between us that was so loaded with suggestion that I had to force my legs to shift away.

I turned to him. “So will you let me out of that dare?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Of course.”

“Cool.” I stepped back into the cubicle. “I’ll try on another one.”

I yanked the curtain closed and turned to the mirror. Tears swam in my eyes again, and my chest clamped so hard my bruises damn well hurt.

Sniffing back my stupid emotions, I yanked off the dress, returned it to the hanger, and reached for the next dress.

“Tory.” Kane’s tone had a pleading lilt. “Try this one on.” He pushed a black dress between the curtain.

I added the hanger to the hook on the wall. The long black dress looked brand new and was made in a delicate lace subtly decorated with sequins. Clenching my jaw, determined not to break down, I tugged on the dress.

The cool satin caressed my skin, clinging to every curve, and the lace fabric was so smooth it felt like liquid against my body. A daring V-neck plunged toward my navel, stopping just short of scandalous. Slender straps snaked across my bare shoulders and attached to a delicate band around my waist. The ankle-length flowing skirt featured a thigh-high leg split that played peek-a-boo with my left leg which would make walking easier without revealing the massive bandage on my right calf. This was the kind of dress I’d only ever seen on glamorous movie stars. The kind that screamed ‘red carpet’ not ‘dusty antique shop.’

The tag swung beneath my armpit, and bracing to be shocked, I checked the price. My jaw dropped. Just eighty-five euro.

“Do you need my help?” Kane asked.

“No. No.”

Hesitantly, I stepped out of the changing room, running my hands down the sides of the dress, feeling absurdly self-conscious. “So?” I mumbled, averting my gaze from Kane.

He was silent, and a nervous flutter clenched in my stomach. When I finally peeked up, his eyes were locked on me with a dark intensity that stole every thought from my mind.

“Wow,” he said, his voice a husky murmur. “Tory, you look . . .”

“Ridiculous?” I blurted.

His gaze swept down my body and back up again, sparking embers within me that could ignite an inferno.

“No. Tory, you look—” He reached for my hand. “You look exquisite.”

My cheeks burned as the words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected.

“And sexy,” he added, a slow smile curving his lips.

The word slammed into me like a physical blow.

Sexy? Me?

I playfully slapped his chest. “Stop it.”

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine, and placed his hand on my hip.

“You do,” he said simply. “You’re breathtaking.” His eyes were intoxicating.

And a little bit terrifying.

I was feeling things for him that had never swirled in me before, and I hated myself just that little bit more. I stepped back, putting distance between us. “Thanks. And it only costs eighty-five euro.”

“Amazing.” His stunning eyes pierced mine, taking my breath away.

I ran my gaze up his body with a show of disgust. “Well, if this is what I’m wearing, then you need to pick up your game.”

“I’ve already chosen my outfit.”

“What? You need to show me.”

He waggled his phone. “I let my fingers do the walking.”

“Hey, that’ s not fair.”

He grinned. “You’ll see tonight. Now you’re going to need some shoes. There’s a shoe shop up the road.”

I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief at the ease with which he seemed to pull things together. He was like a puppet master, and I had easily become his marionette.

As I changed back into my clothes, I told myself to get my act together. Aria had warned me about Kane, but at the same time, I had to fight the belief that she had somehow got him so, so wrong.

At the counter, I handed over the dress, and as Kane paid, I checked outside the window to see if any bastard was acting suspiciously. The street was deserted.

As we left the shop, the anticipation for tonight’s gala filled me with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. I had never worn a dress like the one Kane had insisted on carrying for me. I was more of a jeans and T-shirt girl. I just hoped I didn’t stand out for all the wrong reasons. We needed to blend in, or we would have no hope of getting near Gunter.

We strolled along the bustling street. The sun was finally out, casting a golden hue over the cobblestones and adding some warmth to the chilly breezes.

Despite the tightness in my ribs and the ache in my bones, I matched my strides to Kane’s. He led me across town to a small boutique shoe store that smelled of fresh leather and expensive price tags.

The woman behind the counter had her nose in some catalog with high gloss pages. Her lack of attention to us was rude, but also a blessing. This was not my kind of store.

I picked up a glossy black shoe and turned it over. The price tag nearly made me hurl my stomach contents. “Kane,” I whispered, “these are too expensive.”

“What about this one?” Ignoring my protest, he held a red stiletto toward me.

“Do I look like a woman who wears a shoe like that?”

“You will when you put this dress on.” He tapped the bag over his arm.

I leaned toward him, and keeping my voice low, I said, “I am not paying these obscene prices for a pair of shoes I’ll wear once.”

“Good thing you’re not paying. What about these?” He pointed to a gold pair with heels so high I would get a nosebleed.

“Seriously? ”

“We need to blend in tonight, so, in that stunning dress, you will need a stunning pair of shoes.”

I snatched a silver pair off the shelf and went to turn it over.

Kane gripped my hand. “Please. Indulge me. Just choose a pair that you like.”

My shoulders deflated. “These.”

I waggled the elegant silver stiletto in my hand.

“Okay. What size are you?”

“Back home, I’m a size eight.”

“See if there are any others you like. I’ll go tackle the grumpy cow behind the counter.”

I giggled then winced. “Ouch.”

“Sorry.” His smile lit up his eyes.

“You will be.”

Carrying the silver shoe, he strode toward the woman at the counter. I had a couple of high heels at home, but none of them were as stylish as these. I couldn’t help looking at the price, and each time my eyes nearly watered.

How much money does Kane have?

While he was busy with the woman, I tried on several pairs, each classy and elegant, but none felt quite right. They were too high, or too flimsy, and downright uncomfortable.

What if we needed a quick getaway from the ball tonight?

There was no way I would be running in these shoes.

Maybe I could take a bag that would fit my joggers inside. I stifled a giggle.

Kane would probably have a fit.

Was he accustomed to dressing women?

That thought tumbled from nowhere.

You don’t need to know, Lacey . . . Tory.

Bloody hell.

Kane returned to me carrying a black and gold box. “Here we go, Madam Tory, your slippers.”

“Give me that.” I wrestled the box off him and sat on the soft leather sofa in the center of the store. I fiddled with the tiny buckle attached to the diamond-studded strap around my ankle, but the brace around my dislocated fingers was not playing nice.

“Want me to do that?” he asked.

“Just give me a sec, you impatient bastard.”

Kane stood back. “That looks really nice.”

I wrestled the buckle on the second shoe into place, pretending not to listen to him, but somehow, wanting his input more than I cared to admit.

I stood and as I peered at the shoes in the mirror, a wave of confidence washed over me.

Kane grinned at me in the mirror. “And?”

“I guess they’ll do.” Truth was, I loved them. They were surprisingly comfortable, and they made me feel so damn sexy. A feeling I was not accustomed to.

“Perfect.” He smiled like I’d made the right decision.

As he paid for the shoes, I pulled my sneakers back on, strolled outside, and searched up and down the street. I didn’t have the same feeling we were being watched like I did yesterday.

Kane stepped out the door. “You’re going to need a handbag and some jewelry.”

“Hell no. What I need is a bacon and egg burger and a nap.”

He burst out laughing. “Awesome. We’ll do that, then we’ll go shopping.”

“What is wrong with you? Men don’t like to shop.”

“I never said I liked shopping.” His eyes lingered on me, and a flicker of something more than amusement danced in their depths. “I like shopping for you.”

“Wow. Now that’s a line.” I rolled my eyes.

“That’s not a line.”

“Yes, it was. I told you, your smooth-talking shit won’t work on me.”

“Oh. You want me to talk dirty?”

Trying not to laugh, I walked away.

“What? Tory . . . come on, this is fun. Aren’t you having fun?”

Tory was having too much fun. That was the problem. With each pounding step I made to increase the distance between us, I knew that whatever was going on between Kane and me was bigger than finding lost Nazi gold.

I really liked him.

And my heart cracked into pieces knowing that when the truth came out, he would never forgive me.