“Or you could wait in the bathroom, so I don’t have to watch you watching me,” Raluca said ominously.
“Nope.” Nick folded his arms. “I need to know it’s on right. Either I watch you put it on, or I put it on for you. Your choice. Princess.”
She glared at him, then gingerly lifted first one strap, then another. He didn’t try to hide his amusement as he watched her discover exactly how non-intuitive it was. Finally, she gave a carefully unconcerned shrug. “You do it. Just this once. I’m a quick learner.”
“I bet you are.”
She ignored the double entendre, but watched him carefully as he buckled on the vest. He could feel her burning with curiosity about him, just like her goddamn hot skin burned into his without even touching it. Nick wanted her so much, it made his balls hurt. When he accidentally brushed a fingertip against her hand, they both jumped. He barely managed to step back before her thigh would have collided with his aching hard-on.
He backed away. “Okay. You got it. Now let’s go shopping.”
Raluca’s elegant eyebrows rose as she buttoned Fiona’s black jacket over the vest. “I cannot help my attire. But aren’t you going to change? Or at least bring a change of clothing with you?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Nick demanded.
“I wish to purchase both formal and casual clothing,” Raluca said. “You will look out of place in a formal boutique.”
“So?”
“My jewelry makes up for my clothing. Salespeople will assume I was on some casual errand, then entered on a whim or temptation. They will see that I belong, in any case. You, however, will not seem to belong.”
A familiar anger flared up in Nick. She was right, and he knew exactly how the snob salespeople would stare at him. “They can suck it.”
Raluca looked exasperated. As if she was explaining the alphabet to a slow child, she said, “You will feel uncomfortable.”
“No, they’ll feel uncomfortable,” Nick said. “Fuck them.”
A tiny noise like fine porcelain grinding together filled the air: the princess was gritting her teeth. “Will you please stop saying that word?”
“Does it make you ‘feel uncomfortable?’” Nick inquired, imitating her tone.
He expected her to lose her temper and snap at him. Instead, she looked him in the eye until he felt uncomfortable. More, he felt ashamed. Sure, she was a stuck-up, prim princess. But she’d also had someone try to kill her the night before, and had then gotten stuck with an ex-gangster as a bodyguard. An ex-gangster who was being an asshole to a woman who was out of her depth and running for her life. Nick was used to danger, but Raluca wasn’t. This was all new to her. And not in a good way.
“Yes,” Raluca said simply. “It does.”
“Sorry,” Nick muttered. “I’ll try to keep a lid on it.”
“Thank you.” Her tone was unapologetic, but sincere. Once again, he felt like the world’s biggest dick. “Now, please take me to one high-end boutique and one shop for clothing suitable for the sort of nightclub that you would attend.”
Nick blinked. He did go to nightclubs occasionally, but his dates chose them, not him. And “high-end boutique” was beyond him. “Hang on. I gotta make a call for that one.”
He sat down on the bench and called Destiny.
“Hey, Nick,” Destiny responded immediately. There was an odd echo on the line. “What’cha want?”
“A rec for a high-end boutique. And wherever you buy whatever you wear to go clubbing.”
Her laugh echoed as well, as did her reply, pitched to imitate a kid on a schoolyard. “Oooh, Nicky’s found himself a girlfriend!”
“Fuck, no,” Nick snapped. He didn’t have to turn around to see Raluca’s disapproval — he could feel it burning into his back. “It’s for a client.”
“Ah-ha.” That echoed most of all. The penny dropped as the door opened and Destiny strode in, her phone pressed to her ear. With a grin, she spoke into the phone even as she winked at Nick. “How high are we talking about?”
“Haute couture.” Raluca stepped out from behind Nick. “Hello. I am Raluca, Lucas’s former fiancée.”
Destiny stared at Raluca, then at Nick. Then back at Raluca. Destiny was rarely at a loss for words, but it looked like the unexpected appearance of Princess Balcony Leap had shocked her speechless.
“You must be Destiny,” Raluca said, when it became clear that Destiny wasn’t going to say anything without further prompting. “I am very pleased to meet you.”