“What?”
I let out a sigh, my eyes closed as I just felt him. “Option one. We go with your original plan.”
He grabbed me then, holding me in an embrace that was so tight, I could barely breathe, but I didn’t need to, not when I had this.
“It’ll be fine,” he promised. “It’ll be amazing. I’ll make sure of it.”
64
“Oh my god, Fabian…”
He looked up from the massive desk in his workspace, the cordoned off area full of drawings, fabric swatches, and a tailor’s dummy swathed in rich fabrics. He blinked, those beautiful amber eyes taking a moment to see me before they abruptly focussed.
“Bitch, what the fuck!”
He threw down whatever he was working on and strode over, enfolding me in his arms. But once there, he took Beau to task.
“I thought we were going to catch up in the hotel café and I could…broach the proposal with Sage?”
“My omega waits on no man. She needs to know what she’s walking into, so I told her as soon as I felt it was safe to.”
“When it was either that or face another twenty-four-hour plane trip,” I said when he pulled back. “I chose to stay.” My eyes strayed to the tailor’s dummy. The work there didn’t look finished, so I didn’t think that was the piece I was to wear. “He told me about the favour.”
When I saw Fabian’s face, I recognised his expression—vulnerability. He could have asked me directly and didn’t for some reason. Why was that? I smiled then and grabbed his hand.
Fabian grabbed it right back.
“Please tell me you’ll walk for me. I’ll love you forever and ever if you do. I can find someone else. I’ve made contact with a few models if you’re not comfortable, but…”
He got up abruptly, walking over to one of the many garment bags hanging on a rack, and unzipped one of them. Green, that was what I saw first, but not just one shade. Somehow, with the magic of a fashion designer, he’d created this ombre effect, where the train of the dress bled from the palest of mints all the way to a dark emerald green. Then he pulled the dress out somewhat roughly, holding it up against his slender form for me to take a look at, and that was when I saw that we’d be great company during this whole debacle, because he was bracing himself for our opinions.
“It’s beautiful. Fuck, Lucien told me you worked with the best, but fuck…” Beau muttered.
“High praise indeed,” Fabian said, cocking an eyebrow.
Then he turned to me.
“It is.” I said the words baldly, waiting for him to accept them. “You know it is, right? Fabian, the…”
This was where I was supposed to describe the virtues of the gown, but I couldn’t, not yet. This was masterwork created from fabric, beads, and a million tiny stitches, and like any other art form, it took my breath away.
“It’s beautiful. You did such an amazing job.”
“This from a girl who thinks track pants are formal wear,” Fabian said with a wry smile and theatrical gesture. “Be still my heart. Seriously, though, you need to try it on first because—”
“It will fit perfectly.”
We were not the only ones landing in Fabian’s workspace today. Everybody turned to see that Henri had arrived, and he smiled down at Fabian’s work like a proud papa. Fabian tossed the gown on the table, much to Henri’s distress, and rushed in to give his mentor a kiss on both cheeks.
“Throwing a gown like this around!” Henri grumbled. “Have I taught you nothing? What if there was a rough edge on the table that grabbed at the chiffon? What if a bead cracked?”
Fabian just laughed.
“I’ll show you just what you taught me in a minute. Sage is going to model this dress.”
“Mademoiselle Sage?” Henri turned to me and then smiled. “Then your show will truly be a success. Lucien let me know you would be here, so I have brought all your gowns with me. I had them delivered to your hotel, as your alpha instructed.”
“My thanks,” Beau said.