Girl in a Vintage Dress

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she muttered under her breath as she sashayed past Immy, working her hips to show off the dress’s full potential.

  That was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

  ‘Hey Chase, I heard the hen’s party went really well.’

  Lola braced herself for more from her brash friend but thankfully Immy didn’t push.

  ‘Thanks to this talented woman.’

  He stopped halfway across the shop, his eyes wide and fixed solely on her, the expression in those blue depths snatching her breath and making the dress feel two sizes too small.

  ‘Wow.’

  He held out his hand and she placed hers into it, allowing him to twirl her around slowly, his low wolf whistle of appreciation eliciting a laugh from Immy.

  ‘Sexy dress, huh?’

  She glared at Immy again and as Chase reeled her in, he murmured in her ear, ‘Sexy woman, more like it,’ creating a slow blush that started at her cleavage and worked its way upwards.

  Though Imogen couldn’t have heard Chase’s comment, she must’ve got the gist from the dazed expression on his face for she made herself scarce with a blasé wave and a, ‘Have a great night,’ flung over her shoulder as she headed out the back.

  Being alone with Chase shouldn’t be this scary but the longer he stared at her with desire in those blue eyes, her fear grew exponentially.

  Fear of making a fool of herself, fear of feeling too much, fear it was already too late.

  ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  He held out his elbow and she threaded her arm through it, catching sight of their reflection as they headed for the door.

  She’d barely said two words since he’d walked in and seeing him in a designer tux, looking better than most of the models her sister worked with, only served to tie her tongue into further knots.

  He held the door open for her and she smiled her thanks. Could he be any more perfect? Another thing about the past she liked: etiquette. As far as she was concerned, old-fashioned manners should never go out of fashion.

  ‘Lola?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I’m really looking forward to tonight.’

  ‘Me too,’ she murmured, lost in the heat of his gaze and knowing it was far too late to worry about falling for him further.

  She’d already tumbled head first into love with him and there wasn’t one darn thing she could do about it.

  Chase liked being on top of things.

  He liked seeing his plans come to fruition and as he watched Lola glow with excitement at something the Hotel Antiqua CEO had just said, he knew he’d made the right decision in putting her name forward for this project.

  The hotel had an entire wing waiting to be decorated and what better way to go than vintage?

  As Lola’s hands waved around, describing some grand plan to the CEO, he experienced a rush no other job satisfaction had come close to.

  He glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer they’d have to stick around. For while the first part of his plan had gone off without a hitch, it was the second part that had him edgy.

  He wanted her.

  Fiercely. Uncontrollably. Relentlessly.

  Every moment he stood and watched her, so vibrant, so animated, was a lesson in torture.

  Tonight, he wanted to show her how much he’d enjoyed her company over the last week, wanted to make it a goodbye to remember.

  Though technically he’d be seeing her at the wedding, he knew they’d be surrounded by people there and he wouldn’t have a chance to tell her how truly amazing she was. Tonight, he wanted to show her.

  He downed the rest of his beer, eager to leave and eternally grateful when her conversation with the CEO wound up and she looked around, trying to find him.

  Taking a step forward, he raised a hand and as their gazes locked he could’ve sworn he felt the zap of electricity clear across the room.

  Then her lips curved, a tempting plum slick in her expressive face and it took all his willpower not to shove aside the crowd separating them in his desperation to reach her.

  Gliding through the crowd towards him, her eyes never left his and when the last person faded away, she flung herself into his arms with a ferocity that made his heart sing.

  She hugged him fiercely and he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the soft fruity fragrance of her shampoo, revelling in its silkiness, reluctant to release her when she finally drew back.

  ‘Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?’

  Her eyes burned with an inner fire he hadn’t seen, vindicating the strings he’d pulled for her.

  ‘For bringing me here.’

  She jerked her head subtly to the left. ‘See that guy I was talking to? He’s the CEO of the hotel and we got to talking about business and what I do and he wants me to decorate an entire wing of the hotel.’

  She did a funny little jig on the spot he found incredibly endearing.

  ‘Can you believe it? It’s a major job but it’ll make Go Retro financially viable for years. It’s a godsend, absolutely perfect timing.’

  ‘That’s great, sweetheart, congratulations.’

  He hugged her, genuinely pleased. He’d never seen her so excited and the thought he’d had a hand in turning around her fortunes made him feel ten feet tall.

  ‘Want to go celebrate?’

  She tensed in his arms for a second before easing back, the flirtatious sparkle in her eyes encouraging and surprising.

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  He crooked his finger and beckoned her forward. ‘Somewhere a little more private than this.’

  Trying a mock frown and failing, she said, ‘Are you trying to get me alone so you can take advantage of me?’

  Rubbing his hands together, he tried an evil chuckle. ‘That’s the plan.’

  She pretended to think for a moment, before slipping her hand into his.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LOLA couldn’t keep the huge grin off her face.

  All her problems were solved, thanks to the lucrative Hotel Antiqua contract the CEO had promised her. And she hadn’t had to tender for it; he’d virtually offered it to her once they’d got chatting. She may hate asking for help but gifts like that falling into her lap? She’d grab with both hands, thank you very much.

  Even now, staring out at the twinkling lights of Melbourne’s skyline many storeys below, she couldn’t believe that Go Retro was safe. Her blood fizzed with excitement as she mentally started planning various stages of the project from the brief tour she’d been given at the hotel.

  All that space just waiting to be filled with tasteful vintage décor and furnishing, bringing a little piece of the past alive for patrons to enjoy.

  The CEO had surprised her, being quite specific in what he wanted once he’d discovered what she did for a living, but she didn’t question it. Why should she, when she’d been handed the opportunity of a lifetime?

  Finally, finally, her choices had been vindicated. She’d gone out on a limb in starting Go Retro, investing every cent she had, throwing herself wholeheartedly into the business despite the prophecies of doom from her folks and the usual scoffing from Shareen.

  Nothing she ever did was good enough and they’d laughed at the idea of her doing anything on her own.

  She’d shown them.

  Without any help she’d managed to secure a lucrative contract; the publicity alone from the fit-out guaranteed to keep her in business into the next decade.

  ‘Still basking in your glory?’

  Chase came up close behind her, her skin prickling at his proximity as he handed her a wine glass.

  ‘Can’t stop thinking about it.’

  ‘It’s a great coup.’

  He raised his glass and she gently clinked hers against it. ‘If you hadn’t taken me there I never would’ve met Von Deek.’

  Sipping his wine, he placed the glass on a table ne
arby.

  ‘Some things are meant to be.’

  He wasn’t talking about the chance meeting and she knew it.

  Her hand trembled, the wine coming dangerously close to sloshing over the edge as he eased it out of her hand and placed the glass next to his.

  She didn’t know how long they stood there, tension crackling between them, their bodies straining towards each other, but the second she swayed towards him ignited a reaction she had no chance of stopping.

  Their mouths clashed in a hungry kiss, his hands frantic, skimming her curves, caressing her body, eradicating any lingering doubts with his low, desperate moan.

  He wanted her as much as she wanted him but the moment his hand strayed from her waist to her butt, she tensed.

  Old insecurities flared: she was too big, too fat, too inexperienced, her submerged body image issues undiminished as the man she’d grown incredibly close to over the last week wanted to get naked with her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He eased back, his hands resting on her waist and she sighed, wishing they didn’t need to have this conversation but knowing if she didn’t say anything she’d end up ruining tonight anyway.

  ‘I want this…I want us too…but…’

  Tipping her chin up gently, his tender expression hit her where she feared it most: her heart.

  ‘You’re short selling yourself again, aren’t you?’

  Biting her bottom lip, she nodded, wondering how he did that, picking up on her emotions so easily.

  ‘I’ve just never been comfortable showing my body to anyone.’

  His eyes widened. ‘You mean you haven’t—’

  ‘No, I’ve had a boyfriend.’ She clamped down on the memory. ‘He didn’t help.’

  A million questions flickered through his expressive eyes and she sighed, knowing she’d have to tell him everything.

  ‘After I did the whole makeover thing, it took me a year to start dating. I was cautious, carefully vetting guys in case they were only using me as a stepping stone to Shareen. Bodey seemed different…’

  He didn’t speak, his understanding expression all the encouragement she needed to continue.

  ‘We only dated a short time, about a month. I was pretty smitten, I thought he was too, then after we slept together…’ She shrugged, not wanting to articulate how shattered she’d been after being dumped or how long she’d wondered if she’d been an experiment for him—cosy up to the chubby chick—or a challenge or, worse again, a bet.

  And while Chase was nothing like Bodey, the thought of going to bed with him resurrected those old feelings of inadequacy and vulnerability, leaving her feeling raw and exposed and on edge.

  ‘The guy’s a loser.’

  His harsh expletive echoed what she’d called Bodey in her mind several times over the years. ‘But this isn’t just about him, is it?’

  She shook her head, the truth hovering on her lips. But if she told him everything, would he still want her?

  ‘Lola?’

  Going for broke, she tugged on a pinned up ringlet. ‘See this?’

  She pointed at her face, at the carefully applied make-up. ‘And this?’

  Covering his hand at her waist with hers, she smoothed it over the rich satin fabric. ‘And this? All props I use to feel good about myself. I need to put on my confidence mask every day so people don’t get to see the real me.’

  Not backing down from a conversation that most men would run from, he merely tightened his grip on her waist.

  ‘The real you is a beautiful, smart, vivacious woman, the woman who snaffled my phone when we first met without blinking.’

  A small smile tugged at her mouth at the memory. ‘Oh, I can be bubbly and outgoing and extroverted at Go Retro because that’s my comfort zone. Other times?’

  She held up a hand that trembled on cue. ‘I’m afraid that I use Go Retro to hide away, use it as a front for my fear of going out and taking a chance on people.’

  And that was what going all the way with Chase boiled down to: taking a chance. She’d played it safe for years now, rarely dating, not socialising, burying herself in making Go Retro a success. But she knew without a shadow of a doubt if she walked away from this man now without making the most of tonight, she’d regret it every day for the rest of her life.

  He opened his mouth to respond but she covered it gently with her fingertips.

  ‘But you know something? It’s times like now I realise unless I want to spend the rest of my life growing old like my merchandise, I need to step out of my comfort zone and take a chance.’

  He pressed a soft kiss to her fingers before lowering them. ‘Are you saying—’

  ‘I’m terrified of you seeing the real me beneath all this fake glamour, I’m terrified of revealing my body to you and I’m really terrified of getting in any deeper than I already am, but I think it’s time I took that chance.’

  Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against his and murmured, ‘Don’t you?’

  Her breath hitched at the sudden flare of heat in his eyes as his gaze roved over her face, seeking reassurance and as she slowly nodded, he released her and took a step back.

  Uncertain, she waited for him to say something, to do something, her body a mass of snapping synapses and zapping nerve-endings.

  She inhaled sharply as he reached out and carefully pulled out one of the bobby pins holding up her curls. Then another. And another, his fingers not touching her until every last curl lay in loose disarray around her shoulders and he wound his hands through her hair, mussing it, his fingertips lightly massaging her scalp in a sigh-worthy moment bordering on erotic.

  Almost boneless after a minute of the slow, sensuous scalp massage, his fingers drifted down her neck, across her collarbone and lingered on the swell of her breasts, trailing from her cleavage to the tips of her shoulders and back again, raising goose-bumps of pleasure and making her knees wobble with the intensity of her desire.

  ‘You are truly beautiful,’ he murmured, his words punctuated by the passion in his blazing stare as he slid a hand around her waist and upwards, toying with the zip on her dress.

  She bit back a moan as his other hand joined the first, strumming her back with long, slow caresses, the barest of strokes eliciting a whimper when his hands moulded to her bottom and tugged her gently towards him.

  ‘And I look forward to unveiling every glorious inch of your gorgeous body,’ he whispered against the corner of her mouth before claiming it in a cataclysmic kiss that branded her as his.

  A kiss that shattered any last lingering doubts, a kiss that left her mindless with wanting him, a kiss deepened to the point of no return.

  There was no time for second-guessing or self-consciousness as he eased down her zip, peeling away the dress to reveal a matching corset and garter in alabaster satin, his stunned expression quickly replaced by one of awe and lust and worship.

  Kneeling at her feet, his lips honed in on the smallest sliver of bare skin in the gap between her lace-top stockings and the edge of her panties, brushing against her thighs with repeated, exquisite torture.

  When he finally snapped the clips on her garters she was swaying and as he rolled her silk stockings down inch by excruciating inch, she almost exploded with need.

  Standing, he reached for her again. ‘You—’ he kissed the soft skin at the base of her throat ‘—are—’ his fingers made deft work of the corset hooks as the satin slithered to the floor ‘—amazing.’

  Stepping back, he cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs gently skimming across her nipples until she was boneless and reaching for him.

  Seeing his appreciation of her body, knowing he’d taken it slow just for her, was more of an aphrodisiac than any words he could’ve said and, frantic to have him assuage the fire consuming her hypersensitive body, she pulled him to her and kissed him, crushing her breasts against his chest, her pelvis arching towards him.

  She couldn’t stop wanting this man any more than she
could give up her dream and with her desire clamouring for release, she matched him stride for stride as he backed her towards the bedroom.

  Where with his skilful hands and mouth and body, he revelled in her body and made her feel truly beautiful for the first time ever.

  Lola lay awake in the darkness, clutching the sheet to her breasts, realising how foolish she was being yet unable to shake the feeling that Chase would wake any moment and regret what they’d done.

  Repeatedly.

  Over the last few hours.

  Besides, too late for modesty now. He’d seen all of her, had caressed every inch of her body and come back for seconds and the memory alone made her skin flush.

  Thankfully, he hadn’t made a big deal out of her insistence he turn the light off. She’d phrased her request persuasively, implying it would heighten their pleasure if they relied on touch.

  And touch her he did, making her cry out his name, making her desperate for him, making her want this night to never end. Yet the minute he’d drifted into deep slumber the insecurities had started. Had she made a mistake in sleeping with him? Would he move on now to the next challenge?

  For she was under no illusions that was why he seemed so fascinated by her: she was different to the women he usually mixed with.

  She had no expectations of him, wasn’t overly impressed by his wealth or status and realistically saw no future for them.

  Liar.

  Chase stirred and her grip on the sheet tightened. Okay, so maybe she had envisioned a happily-ever-after scenario for them. She wouldn’t be here otherwise, more vulnerable than ever, her body and heart exposed.

  And the longer she lay here in his bed, mentally rehashing every romantic moment they’d spent together her imagination had her one step further up the aisle.

  For that was what she ultimately wanted: a husband, a house, a posse of kids and the freedom to be who she wanted to be and loved for it.

  Her love of vintage incorporated a reverence for old-fashioned values and she was kidding herself if she hadn’t seen Chase in the role of adoring husband. She may be a modern girl but there was nothing wrong with home-cooked meals and a cosy house and a family to fill it with love and warmth and appreciation for one another.