“Sleek. Cosmopolitan.” He ran his fingertips slowly down the side of her dress. The cotton fabric was rough and pilled from repeated washings. “I can’t have my wife’s clothes looking like they were bought at a discount shop. What would my shareholders think?”
“That I’m good with money and know how to get good value?” she replied archly.
He snorted. “In private, of course, you can wear whatever you want. I like the look of you in everything.” Leaning forward, he whispered for her ears alone, “Or nothing.”
He felt her shiver, felt his own body rise. He had to fight the urge to grab her and kiss her again. Soon, he promised himself hungrily. Tonight.
Cristiano leaned back against the SUV’s soft leather seat. “You will need clothes that you can wear to events where you will be photographed and appear in newspapers as a symbol of the Campania brand.”
“I didn’t sign up for that.”
“And yet it is so.” He tilted his head curiously. “Most women would not object so strenuously to a new wardrobe.”
“I’m remembering something I read in high school...that you should beware any relationship that requires n
ew clothes.”
His lips lifted. “You’re talking about Thoreau. He didn’t say beware the new relationship, he said beware the new enterprise.”
“Marrying you, it doesn’t sound like there’s a difference,” she said grumpily. The SUV stopped, and she frowned. “What are we—”
Then Hallie turned, and her jaw dropped when she saw Cristiano’s surprise.
CHAPTER FIVE
HALLIE STOOD IN front of a full-length mirror, turning to look at herself from all angles. This wedding dress was deceptively simple, made of duchess satin with a bias cut. It made her post-pregnancy figure look amazing in a way that even she couldn’t deny.
“That’s it!” Lola yelled. “That’s the one!”
“It’s perfect,” Tess said dreamily. “You look like a princess.”
Hallie had been shocked to see Lola and Tess waiting for her on the curb in front of the luxury bridal shop on Fifth Avenue. Amazed, she’d stared back at Cristiano in shock. “What did you... How did you?”
He’d given her a wicked smile. “Your friends called the front desk of the hotel this morning, demanding to know if I’d kidnapped you, since you weren’t responding to their messages.”
“Oh,” she’d said sheepishly. She had turned off her phone last night and forgotten to turn it back on.
“I told them to come see you for themselves. They’re going to help you pick out a wedding dress. If you want.”
“Are you serious?”
His smile widened. “Then you all have appointments for spa treatments next door.”
She’d beamed at him, then her joy had faded. “But who will watch Jack?”
“He’s coming back to the penthouse with me,” Cristiano said gravely, “for a little father-son time.”
He’d looked at her steadily, as if daring her to object. Hallie had felt it was some kind of test. “But,” she said helplessly, “how will you know what to do?”
“I’ll keep your diaper bag. Bottles, diapers. Everything I could need, right?”
“Right,” she said doubtfully.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I run a billion-dollar company, Hallie. I think I can handle watching my own son while he sleeps for a few hours.”
Put like that, she’d been forced, reluctantly, to agree. Giving Jack one last kiss on his plump cheek, she’d slowly gotten out of the SUV. Then she’d turned back anxiously. “I’ll be back in two hours.”
“Take all afternoon. Take as long as you want. Enjoy yourself. We’ll be fine.” Leaning forward, Cristiano had given her a goodbye kiss that had left her knees weak, and then he’d smiled. “Have fun.”