She indicated her black dress. ‘This dress.’
‘Not jeans?’
‘No.’
‘Or trainers?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And your anorak?’ He couldn’t keep the distaste from his voice.
‘It was in the cloakroom.’ She frowned. ‘Where is this leading to?’
He shook his head. ‘Your clothes. They won’t do. A woman like Tina Norris would never be convinced you’re my girlfriend if you dress like a maid.’
‘This is actually my waitress dress but I get what you mean,’ she said, with a downward droop of her mouth.
‘It’s a nice enough dress, but you should be wearing designer fashion.’
‘I can’t afford—’
He didn’t like the crestfallen look on her face that his words had caused. ‘I know you can’t. Which is why I will take you shopping tomorrow to ensure you’re suitably dressed. At my expense.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Take me shopping? Buy me clothes? But you can’t do that. I...I can’t accept clothes from you. It wouldn’t be right.’
A woman who didn’t jump at the chance of a wealthy man wielding a credit card? Ashleigh really was very different from the women he usually associated with. Women who revelled in the lifestyle his wealth could give them. Who were placated by a gift of expensive jewellery when he ended things with them.
‘I can and you will,’ he said. ‘I want this deal to go through. You have to be dressed appropriately. End of story.’
‘I...I don’t know what to say,’ she said, raising troubled eyes to his.
‘“Yes” will do,’ he said. ‘I will take you shopping in Bond Street tomorrow morning.’
Then he leaned over to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ‘Relax and enjoy it, agápi mou.’
CHAPTER SIX
ASHLEIGH WAS NOT the kind of person to be easily intimidated. But she’d learned on her first few days in London that a look from the snooty shop assistants on London’s super-posh Bond Street could shrivel her ego to the size of a thimble.
Her friend Sophie lived and breathed fashion. Ashleigh was as interested in clothes and shoes as most women, but her knowledge of luxury, high-end labels extended to what she saw in glossy magazines at the hairdresser.
Sophie had taken Ashleigh window-shopping not long after she’d arrived. Together they’d traipsed the length of combined Old Bond Street and New Bond Street—Ashleigh looking around her in awe. She’d rubbernecked at the opulent elegance of the Victorian era Royal Arcade. Stopped to stare at the Christmas decorations. Sophie told her that Bond Street was one of the most expensive shopping streets in the world and she could well believe it. It was lined with elegant shops, each more luxurious than the last. Each showcased luxury labels—some of which Ashleigh had heard of, others she’d had no idea existed. Not just clothes but accessories, shoes, jewellery, even chocolates.
‘I can’t afford to buy anything in these designer shops,’ Sophie had explained. ‘But I like to look. Not to copy ideas for my own designs but to note details like the cut of a collar or the placement of a pocket and to swoon over the beautiful fabrics.’
‘One day it will be your designs people will be swooning over,’ Ashleigh had said loyally. She had always believed in her friend’s talent—right back to when they were schoolgirls in Manchester and Sophie had been so welcoming to the new girl from Australia.
On that shopping day with Sophie, Ashleigh had dared to venture into one shop to ask the price of a belt she thought her sister would like. She’d nearly fainted at the price the saleswoman had quoted—and the look of disdain delivered at her along with it.
‘Big mistake,’ Sophie had hissed on their way out. ‘These people think if you have to ask the price you can’t afford to shop there. The way to behave is to look at everything with equal disdain—be as snooty as they are right back at them.’
Ashleigh had laughed. ‘I don’t know that I can do disdain. Especially when everything in these shops is so wonderful. I can only dream that I could ever buy anything here.’
Now she was discovering that shopping on Bond Street in the company of billionaire Lukas Christophedes was an altogether different experience.
It started with the discreetly luxurious limousine and chauffeur that picked her and Lukas up from the townhouse to drive them into the heart of London. ‘The driver will keep the car somewhere nearby, ready to load with your parcels,’ Lukas explained.
‘Parcels? Aren’t we buying just a dress for me to wear tonight?’ Ashleigh asked.
‘You’re out with me in public as my girlfriend. You have to look the part. Our first stop will be for clothes for you to change into immediately.’
‘You mean shop for clothes to go shopping in?’
‘Yes.’
Was he serious? A thrill of excitement ran through her. She’d seen so many clothes she’d coveted that day with Sophie. Now she might get to try them on.
She was sitting next to Lukas in the back seat of the car, the seat so wide there was no danger of any accidental touching. Not that she was worried that Lukas would cross boundaries. She’d locked her bedroom door last night, just in case she had misread the situation with him, but she need not have worried. It was she who had lain awake for some time, imagining him lying alone in the enormous bed in his room down the corridor, his long limbs and powerful body sprawled across the sheets. Did he sleep naked?
At the ristorante when he’d leaned across to tuck her hair back from her face, she’d felt a jolt of attraction so powerful that it had rendered her momentarily speechless. When she’d agreed to his deal—not that she’d had much choice—she hadn’t expected that. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
But he had shown every sign of being a gentleman. It was her who’d been bothered by fantasies of him naked in bed just a few rooms away. But when she’d eventually drifted off to sleep it was with a warm sense of security and she’d slept better than she had on her first illicit two nights alone in his house.
‘Is that really necessary? I’ll be wearing your mother’s gorgeous coat when I get out of this nice warm car.’
‘But when you take it off your black work trousers give you away.’
‘They’re not bad trousers,’ she protested. ‘And the shirt is new.’
‘Straight from the high street,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice trailing away. Up until this moment she’d thought shopping in the big high street chains was as exciting as her shopping would ever get. Now, the way Lukas said it, ‘high street’ sounded like an insult. Did she really look that bad? The answer would have to be yes if she was to be mingling with billionaires.
He seemed to sense her sudden stab of insecurity. ‘If you’re performing in a play, you have to be in the right costume, yes? Think of this as getting your wardrobe right and enjoy it.’
Lukas as wardrobe master? Why not?
‘Let the fun begin,’ she said, determined to put aside any qualms she had about a man who was still very much a stranger buying her clothes. After all, she would move out of the maid’s bedroom tomorrow and leave her borrowed finery behind her. Then she would never see him again.
For the first time she felt a pang of regret about that. He was an extraordinarily attractive man. She wished... No. There was no point in wishing they had met under different circumstances. That would never have happened—not the maid and the billionaire.
Excitement began to buzz through her as the car turned into Bond Street. When she’d visited with Sophie, they’d come by Tube. Did coming with Lukas in a chauffeur-driven car make the Christmas decorations shine brighter? She stared in wonder at the sight of a famous jewellery store completely wrapped in glittering Christmas ribbon like a multi-million-dollar festive parcel. Other shops glittered and shone wi
th decorations in among the flags that flew above to proclaim the famous labels. She craned her head to see if the theatrical works of art in the shop display windows had changed since her last visit. Regent Street with its famous Christmas decorations was only a street away. She must come back soon in the evening to see this area at its festive best.
The closer it got to Christmas, the more people there were on the street. Everywhere she looked, fashionably dressed people—men as well as women—swept past on the narrow pavements, their arms strung with shopping bags emblazoned with famous designer labels. Whatever dress she ended up with, Ashleigh vowed, she would keep the bag as a souvenir.
The limousine dropped them off outside the starkly minimalist store of a well-known European designer label. It glided off, no doubt to join the other limousines double parked along the street. Ashleigh wrapped the beautiful leopard print coat around her like armour. Last time she’d been here she’d been wearing the past-its-use-by-date anorak.
‘We should be able to quickly find something for you to change into in here,’ Lukas said as he swept her into the shop with arrogant assurance. She thrilled at the feeling that nothing and no one intimidated this man. Certainly not a shop assistant. That particular brand of wimpishness belonged to Ashleigh.
Lukas exuded an air of wealth and confidence. A well groomed young female shop assistant almost tripped over her stilettos in an effort to reach him before her colleagues did. She’d probably assessed the cost of his suit and the value of his watch as he’d walked through the door.
Ashleigh stood meekly by his side—not that she usually did meek but she was too overwhelmed to be anything but subdued. She shifted from foot to foot, not sure of how this would work. She glanced up at Lukas. Would he choose what she wore or would she have a say in her play-acting wardrobe?
The assistant welcomed Lukas almost to the point of fawning on him. But Ashleigh didn’t miss the sideways narrowed glance directed at her. The woman actually folded her arms in front of her and looked her up and down—out of the line of Lukas’s sight, of course. As she did, Ashleigh recognised her as one of the people who had been dismissive of her and Sophie when they’d ventured into this shop on their window-shopping day. That crossed arm thing had annoyed her then and it annoyed her now.
‘My friend has just arrived from Australia and needs some winter clothes,’ Lukas said. It went without saying that he would be picking up the tab.
Again that sideward glance. Ashleigh realised the woman couldn’t place her. She had immediately sized up her bargain basement shoes and clothes, noted the anomaly of the designer coat and speculated about her relationship to Lukas.
She thinks I’m his mistress, Ashleigh realised. Or worse—that he was buying her in some way. She got the distinct impression she was being judged as inferior to the handsome tall man beside her.
While Ashleigh might have been intimidated into meek she was never going to do inferior. And right now, as Sophie had suggested, she determined to muster up an attitude of disdain.
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Schooling her face into a mask of critical indifference, she let her gaze wander across the featureless mannequins dressed in various minimalist garments in tones of grey and winter white. She took a step towards the chrome racks with their artful displays of just a few garments, not deigning to pull anything close for an inspection.
Then she looked back up at Lukas. ‘Nothing appeals, I’m afraid, darling,’ she said finally. The clothes were fabulous but Bond Street was full of shops like this and surely her presence by Lukas’s side demanded a better attitude.
His dark brows rose. ‘Are you sure? We’ve only just got here and I wanted you to have a complete new wardrobe more suitable for this cold weather.’
She dimpled up at him. ‘Quite sure.’ She met the barely disguised dismay of the assistant. She hoped the woman regretted her bad manners as much as she was no doubt regretting her lost commission.
‘Whatever you want, agápi mou,’ he said, turning on his heel.
‘I think I’ll find what I want a few doors up,’ Ashleigh said, naming an equally well-known designer. Then she tucked her arm through Lukas’s and stalked out of the store.
Back out on the pavement, she smiled at him. ‘Sorry about that, but I didn’t want to give any business to someone who was so judgemental and downright rude. Did you see the way she looked at me?’ She kept her arm tucked in his, liking the feeling, unable to stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have the real-life right to walk arm in arm with him.
‘My mother always swears you get better service if you already look the part,’ he said. ‘I guess she’s right.’ Ashleigh appreciated that there was no hint of I told you so in his voice.
‘Your mother sounds interesting,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Her taste in coats is excellent, that’s for sure.’
‘She’s certainly an expert shopper,’ he said drily.
The reception was so much better at their next stop. A courteous sales associate introduced herself first to Ashleigh and then to Lukas and listened as Ashleigh explained her needs.
The woman handed Lukas over to another associate, who settled him in a comfortable chair and asked him if he would like a coffee. Ashleigh found herself ushered into a roomy, beautifully furnished changing room. Her sales associate returned with a choice of garments for her to try. She felt giddy at the number of zeros on the price tags but reminded herself that, as far as Lukas was concerned, anything he purchased was an investment in a potentially lucrative business deal. Enjoy every minute of this, she told herself, it will never happen again.
Finally, she settled on a pair of perfectly cut slim black trousers with a narrow belt, and a fine knit cashmere and silk sweater in a flattering shade of charcoal. They were perfect under the leopard print coat. She didn’t dare look at the price tags—though she had a very good idea of what just the belt alone would cost.
The sales associate asked if she would like to show Lukas what she had chosen. It was her only discreet reference that she realised who would be paying the bill.
Ashleigh tiptoed out of the changing room. Lukas was engrossed in the thoughtfully provided newspaper. What if this were for real and this handsome man waiting for her really was hers? That he would notice she was there and give her that slow smile she already found so compelling? The thought gave her an unwarranted shiver of excitement. But she could not let herself forget for even an instant that this was all a charade.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
He looked up, startled. She couldn’t read all the expressions that flashed across his face but admiration was certainly one of them. She flushed at the intensity of his gaze. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘But you need boots. Black high-heeled boots.’
Ashleigh and her helpful sales associate were only too happy to oblige.
* * *
Lukas was both pleased and amused at the way Ashleigh sashayed into the designer shops with so much more confidence. She looked sensational. The tight trousers showed off her shapely behind and slender legs, the boots gave a sexy sway to her walk—and he wasn’t immune to the effect.
He wasn’t the only one to notice. Heads turned to watch the beautiful, stylishly dressed redhead. Lukas realised that it wasn’t just her that commanded attention—together they must make a striking couple. The realisation made him feel proud. He congratulated himself for seeing the potential in the scruffy backpacker.
But, with an unlimited credit card at her disposal, he couldn’t understand why she needed to go into so many shops in search of an appropriate dress for the dinner tonight.
He wanted Ashleigh to get it right—both for his sake and her own as she could wear the dress on future occasions. Those occasions could well be far away in Australia when she got over her snit about her wedding and went back to her fiancé. Lucky guy, he thoug
ht, a touch morosely.
But shopping was far from Lukas’s favourite pastime. He was going to have to call a halt to it. ‘Surely it can’t be that difficult to find a suitable outfit for tonight,’ he grumbled. ‘I can’t endure any more hanging around while you look at every damn dress the shops stock.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You did tell me to relax and enjoy it,’ she said. ‘And enjoy it I am. But if you’re getting bored there is a dress I could go back to. It’s not perfect but I like it and—’
‘I’m not bored,’ he said.
Actually, he was bored by the interminable waiting around. When he shopped, his mission was to spend as little time as possible with the shop assistant or the tailor and he made instant decisions. But he wasn’t bored with Ashleigh. Not in the slightest. In fact her enthusiasm and pleasure in the experience was refreshing and somehow endearing. Then there was her total lack of greed.
‘One more shop, okay?’ she said beguilingly.
‘I’ve created a shopping monster,’ he grumbled again, though he didn’t really mean it. Shopping with Ashleigh was the closest thing to fun he could remember having with a woman.
He followed her to the next shop and realised it was the one where his mother must have bought the coat Ashleigh was wearing. She realised it at the same time, her face lighting up. ‘This is a good omen,’ she said.
It seemed it was.
Once inside the store, his fake girlfriend looked around her and sighed a happy sigh. ‘I love everything in here,’ she said. ‘I think I’m in fashion heaven.’
Even the poker-faced sales associate cracked a smile at that and was soon leading Ashleigh away to the fitting room.
Just minutes later Ashleigh emerged. ‘I think I’ve found the ideal dress,’ she said, giving her model-like twirl. ‘It comes in black but I prefer the plum. What do you think?’ She paused, waiting for his reaction.
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