All Dressed Up: A Purely Pleasure Short Read online

  “This is Andrew, he’s going to take your measurements while Ms. Banks tries on dresses,” Violet said.

  “This way, sir,” Andrew gestured to the little room set to the right of theirs, and Rhett followed him, allowing him to measure and pin things to him as he heard snatches of Nat and Violet’s conversation.

  “…want to try the Gucci?”

  “It’s a little fussy,” Nat replied. “I like the Armani. It’s simple.”

  He closed his eyes, trying not to strain his ears trying to hear the rustling of cloth that would tell him she was stripping down. He shouldn’t be imagining that. Shouldn’t be imagining her, pulling that red and white sweater dress she’d been wearing—she looked like a candy cane that he wanted more than anything to lick—over her head. But he couldn’t stop himself from going there, from thinking of red satin and lace panties curved over her ass.

  “Almost done,” the tailor said, whipping his tape measurer around Rhett’s wrist.

  He finished up, hurrying off to bring a selection of tuxes for Rhett to try on. As Rhett waited, he unbuttoned his flannel shirt, tossing it to the side and grabbing the hem of his A-shirt, half-tugging it off when he heard a soft, “Oh.”

  His vision was obscured, so he pulled the undershirt off his head. Nat was standing there, already back in her sweater dress, her hair looking even wilder than normal—from the static of trying on dresses.

  She stood stock still, her big eyes fixed on a point above his shoulder, like she was trying really hard not to ogle him while shirtless.

  He grinned. He couldn’t stop himself. This woman worked him up like nothing had in a long time. He’d just met her, but there was something about her, about the quick intelligence in her eyes, in the way she clearly didn’t take any bullshit ever, in the ambition he could see in every cell of her mind and body, that drive.

  It was so damn sexy. She was someone who wanted things, who wanted more, and she worked to get it.

  “Oh, already done?” asked the tailor, pulling a rack of tuxes into the dressing room.

  “The first dress I tried on was perfect,” Nat said, still looking like she was trying very hard not to stare at him. He shifted his hand to the waist of his jeans and her eyes flickered to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away as his fingers brushed over the button there. Red crawled along her pretty cheeks and his grin widened.

  God, he wanted her. He wanted to get off this stupid pedestal and push her against the mirrored walls of the dressing room and have her screaming his name within minutes. She’d taste so sweet—and maybe a little tart—like one of those candies that had the best of both worlds.

  “I’ll just step out,” Nat said, and then she got really red as Rhett flicked the button on his jeans, whirling around and marching back into her own dressing room.

  “Your wife is very beautiful,” the tailor commented as he held out a black tux with a flourish.

  “Smart as hell, too,” he said, not bothering to correct the assumption they were married—and not knowing why.

  “You’re very lucky,” the tailor said. “Now, if you’ll just try on this jacket…”

  Nat

  They parted ways after shopping, each with their own garment bags stuffed full of designer duds. Nat took Petra up on her offer and stopped by the Enchanted Forest, the salon she owned. The salon was a lot like Petra—loud and over the top and colorful. It was designed to look like, well, an enchanted forest, complete with a fountain, a grotto and whimsical pan-flute music. The stylist had patiently tamed her curls into some semblance of order, coaxing them into gentle, loose waves that fell dramatically down her back.

  By the time she got back to her apartment, with her hair already done, it was time to get dressed up. As she put the finishing touches on her makeup, her phone began to ring. She glanced down and saw it was her best friend, Maddy, who still lived back in Portland.

  “Hi!” she said excitedly, answering it.

  “Hey sweetie,” Maddy said. “I hadn’t heard from you in a few weeks and I thought I’d give you a call and see how things are. Still helping the women of the world get theirs?”

  “You know it,” Nat said with a laugh. “How’s your work?”

  “Fine. Kind of boring. What are you up to?”

  “I am, if you believe it, getting ready for a ball,” Nat said with dry humor as she slicked an opalescent gloss over her lips.

  “A ball?” Maddy asked. “You didn’t turn into Cinderella when I wasn’t looking, did you?”

  “I kind of feel that way,” Nat confessed. “I got a job offer.”

  “From who?”

  “Petra Harrison, I’ve told you about her, haven’t I”

  “The cosmetics mogul?”

  “The very one,” Nat said. “She wants me as VP on a track to take over as CEO.”

  “Oh my god! Nat! That’s huge!” Maddy shrieked.

  “I know! I couldn’t believe it.”

  “But do you want to leave Purely Pleasure?” Maddy asked. “I know how much you love it. And your boss—he seems like a good guy.”

  “Carter’s great,” Nat said. “And I love my job. But Maddy, our VP stepped down a month ago and I dunno…maybe it was egotistical to think that I’d be Carter’s natural choice for the spot…”

  “It’s not egotistical to think that!” Maddy interrupted. “You are amazing. And you would make an amazing VP and CEO. Don’t let that imposter syndrome thinking get you down. You deserve VP. If Carter can’t see that…”

  “Well, that’s the thing, I don’t even know!” Nat said. “He’s been distracted by life stuff and I hate to bug him, but now with this offer from Petra…I feel like I need to make a decision. But I can’t, not without knowing if Carter would be willing for me to take a larger role in the company.”

  “He’d be stupid not to do everything he could to keep you,” Maddy said. “He’s a reasonable guy, right? Every time you talk to me about him, you’re singing his praises. So go to him. Be honest. Tell him you have this exciting offer. See if he matches it with an equally exciting offer.”

  Maddy was right. She needed to talk to Carter. It was just such a bad time. And she knew Petra: even though the woman told her to take her time, she’d want an answer soonish. And she seemed determined to woo Nat away.

  “So is this ball thing part of your VP track?” Maddy asked.

  “Oh gosh, no,” Nat said. “This is a favor. I’m taking Carter’s mountain man friend to the Black and White Ball so he can meet investors.”

  “A mountain man?” Maddy asked.

  “We’re talking Pure A Grade Lumberjack, Maddy,” Nat said. “With golden eyes and a beard to match.”

  Maddy whistled. “He sounds hot.”

  “You have no idea. I just saw the man try on a tux. I thought I was going to get the vapors. I didn’t even know that was still a thing. I felt like a swooning Victorian lady who needed a couch, some smelling salts and her corset strings loosened.”

  Maddy giggled. “Does he like you, this mountain man?”

  “It’s not like that,” Nat said hurriedly, even though she couldn’t shake the image of the sultry warmth in Rhett’s gold eyes as his fingers had flirted with the button on his jeans like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “Oh, I think it is!” Maddy crowed. “You have your “aw, rainbows!” voice on. You like this guy! He must be quite the package.”

  Once again, Maddy was right. Dammit. Maddy was always right. It was kind of her job as best friend.

  Rhett Oakes was everything she shouldn’t want. He was the kind of man she grew up with. Rugged. Rural. Capable. Good with his hands—in all ways, she bet. The kind of man who made promises and kept them, no matter what.

  But she’d left the ranch behind. She’d left the country girl she was behind. She had wanted this. The city. The hustle and bustle. The high of running a company.

  No man—no matter how attractive—could sway her from her goals. She wanted to be CEO someday. She wan
ted the power, the prestige. She wanted to show other young women that they could do it, too. That business wasn’t just a boy’s club they could never get into.

  “He’s just here for one more night,” Nat said. “Then he’s back off the mountains and his wolves.”

  “His wolves?” Maddy asked incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m not,” Nat said. “The man is wildlife vet. He wants to open a wildlife sanctuary. That’s why he’s in New York to talk to investors.”

  “Okay, so this guy is hot as hell, rugged to boot, and he likes adorable furry woodland creatures? If you aren’t going to marry him, I will!”

  Nat laughed just as her alarm went off. “Maddy, I love you. But I’ve got to go. The mountain man’s arriving in about ten minutes.”

  “I hope he shows up riding a wolf,” Maddy joked.

  “You are ridiculous.”

  “Does have have a flannel tux?” she quipped.

  “I’m hanging up now,” Nat said pointedly.

  “Love you! I want details about the hot lumberjack sex later.”

  “There will be no sex!”

  “Sure, sure.” Maddy cackled. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Nat put her phone, lipstick and a few other essentials into the vintage black lucite clutch she’d pulled out. She slipped into the strapless black Armani ballgown she had chosen, fastening the origami-inspired white sash around her waist just as her door buzzer went off.

  He was here. She felt a flash of nervousness as she stared in the mirror. She was being silly, feeling insecure. But as she left her apartment and descended down the stairs and caught sight of him, resplendent in his tux, looking so polished and handsome but also a little wild at the same time, her heart squeezed in her chest.

  He was looking out the lobby window as she approached, and when he turned and caught sight of her, she lost her breath.

  The expression in his eyes…no man had ever looked at her like that. Not when she was dressed up. Not when she was naked. Not when she was in her cut off jeans and thin, worn t-shirts.

  He looked at her like she was a goddess to kneel to. Like she was the one woman that existed in the world. Like she was beauty and grace and perfection.

  He looked at her like that and made her want to believe it, too.

  “Wow,” he said and then pulled something out of his pocket with a flourish.

  It wasn’t a rose or a flower.

  It was a succulent. A spiky little green creation affixed to an old-fashioned hair comb. A wearable piece of plant art.

  “I went to the florist,” he said. “A corsage seemed a little like prom. And you didn’t seem like the kind of woman who liked roses. Too ordinary.”

  She took the little succulent comb from him, touched, humbled by the gesture. No one had ever given her something so very her before. Not with barely knowing her. She traced her fingers over the delicate leaves of the succulent. smiling softly.

  “Can I?” he asked, taking the comb from her.

  She held very still as he stepped forward, breathing in his scent—he smelled spicy, some sort of cologne, but also there was an earthiness there, like rushing water and the morning after a storm. She couldn’t stop the small shiver that went through her as he tucked her curls away, sweeping the comb into the strands, securing it there, behind her ear.

  His fingers lingered right below her ear for a moment, their eyes meeting, and her heart thundered in her ears as his eyes dropped to her lips.

  “Perfect,” he rumbled, and was it her imagination, or did he sound a little breathless?

  “Thank you,” she said, touching the comb lightly. “This is…” She was unable to stop the smile from breaking across her face. She felt understood. Known. It was silly. It was just a little plant affixed to a comb. But he’d thought about it. He’d gone into a florist shop and went through all the ordinary flowers and had thought no, she needs something unique, like her.

  He’d given her something beautiful and alive and full of nature and wonder and she’d never wanted to reach up and kiss a man more that in that moment.

  “I love it,” she finally said.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “It reminded me of you. Pretty, but a little prickly.”

  She laughed. “I could say the same about you.”

  He batted his eyes at her. “You think I’m pretty?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know you’re pretty.”

  “Damn right,” he agreed. He glanced down at his watch. “We should go.” He held out his arm. “You ready to woo New York’s elite with tales of wolves and mountains?”

  She slipped her arm in his, warmth blossoming everywhere they touched. It felt right, being by his side. “Ready,” she said.

  Rhett

  The Black and White Ball was being held at the Plaza Hotel, in their largest ballroom. On the way over, Nat had entertained him with tales of her obsession with the Eloise books as a child, and how her mother had taken her to the Plaza when they visited New York as a child.

  “I refused to leave until I met Eloise,” she explained with a wry grin. “I wouldn’t believe my mother when she told me Eloise wasn’t real. I was sure we were going to be best friends and have adventures.”

  “Eloise was pretty naughty, if I remember correctly,” Rhett said as the car rolled to a stop in front of the Plaza. “Always getting into trouble.”

  “She was a free spirit!” Nat argued back with a laugh as he got out of the car and went round to help her out. “She followed the beat of her own drum.”

  “I think you just identify with troublemakers,” he said as she rose out of the car and once again, he was struck at how incredibly stunning she was.

  The dress she had chosen—the Armani velvet—was strapless with a sweetheart neck that curved over her breasts like a second skin. The structured bow around her waist nipped it in, giving her already classic pin-up girl figure an even more hourglass look. It reminded him of the dresses Marilyn Monroe wore in that old movie, How to Marry a Millionaire. It was classic. Just like her.

  She was curvy and lush and so damn beautiful and he just wanted to sweep her up in his arms and not let her go.

  Already, the other men getting out of the cars in front and behind them were casting admiring looks at her. Rhett tried not to let it bother him—after all, she was on his arm. She was smiling up at him, talking about her childhood and her kinship with the troublemaking picture book character who had ruled the fictional Plaza Hotel for years.

  “You nervous?” Nat asked as they made their way into the hotel.

  “Nah,” he said. “River Run’s an amazing place. Investors can’t see the potential in that, that’s their loss.”

  “That’s good attitude to have,” Nat said. “You don’t want to seem too eager with these people.”

  The ballroom of the hotel was decked out with hundreds of lanterns suspended from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the entire room. Everywhere he looked, men in tuxes and women in black or white ball gowns milled with glasses of champagne. Music floated from a string quartet in the corner and a few people were already dancing.

  “Natalie! My darling!”

  An older woman with curls almost as wild as Nat’s swept in front of them. She was elegant, with diamonds dripping from her fingers and throat and a friendly smile on her face.

  “Petra, wonderful to see you.” Nat grasped the woman’s hands, kissing her on each cheek. “This is Rhett Oakes, a friend of mine from Oregon.”

  “Look at you,” Petra said, a smile spreading across her face. “You are quite the rugged specimen, aren’t you?”

  Nat shot her a patient look. “Don’t embarrass him, Petra.”

  “Do you mind if I borrow your date just for a moment?” Petra asked Rhett. “We have something to discuss.”

  “Of course,” Rhett said. “I’ll get you ladies some champagne.”

  “You’re so kind,” Petra said, taking Nat’s arm and taking her a little way
s away as he headed towards the bar.

  “Two champagnes and a whiskey,” he said to the bartender. “Straight up.”

  “Now that’s a man who knows how to order a drink,” said the man next to him. He turned to Rhett and Rhett felt a flash of recognition. He’d seen this guy before, on the cover of Forbes. This was Wyatt Jamison, the real estate guy Nat had mentioned as being a prospective investor. The one who fancied himself an outdoorsman.

  Be nice, he told himself, even though guys like this put him on edge. “Always good to know what you like,” he said, taking a sip of the whiskey and turning back to the crowd, trying to spot Nat.

  “I don’t think I know you,” Wyatt said. “And I usually know everyone at these things.”

  “Rhett Oakes,” Rhett said, holding out the hand not holding the glass of whiskey.

  “Wyatt Jamison. Though I’m sure you already know that.”

  “I do,” Rhett said. “I believe you know my friend, Carter Daniels.”

  Wyatt raised a black eyebrow. “You’re a friend of Daniels?”

  “We went to college together,” Rhett said.

  “That must mean you know his delicious little CFO, Natalie,” Wyatt said with a lecherous grin. “I’ve been trying to nail that hot piece for years. She’s always turning me down. One of these days I’m gonna wear her down. Some women, they just need some hard convincing.”

  Rhett went cold, a deep frown settling over his face. He didn’t even bother to hide it, in fact, he turned to Wyatt so he could see the full force of his wrath. “And a lot of men need to learn that no means no,” he snapped. “Natalie is not a piece of anything. She’s an accomplished, intelligent, successful woman who should be respected. No wonder she’s turned you down, if you think it’s okay to objectify women like that or harass them into going out with you. Natalie knows her own worth. She knows the kind of man she deserves. You clearly fall very short of that.”