“Stop!” Leah sighed. “You’ll make her get all flushed and I did a damn good job on her makeup!”
“Sorry.” Doug made his way out from underneath her dress and smiled brightly, his white teeth nearly blinding as he ran a hand over his shaved and tattooed head. “You look killer.”
“Thanks.” Jane felt a laugh bubble up inside her. “Can I see myself now?”
“Aw, sweetie.” Doug lifted her chin with a single finger. “Not a chance in hell. Now off you go!”
“Off?”
Bentley yelled from the kitchen. “She better be ready in five minutes!”
“Ready!” Jane called, turning the corner to find Bentley pouring another glass of champagne. He slowly examined her, his expression blank until his eyes landed on her face. He lifted the flute of champagne in a salute and chuckled darkly before handing her his glass.
“He’s going to lose his damn mind,” he whispered. “You know, I think I like this sneaking around business.”
“Oh?” Jane took a long sip of champagne then looped her hand through his arm.
“Yes.” Bentley nodded, then leaned in. “You sure you want Brock?”
“Positive.” She giggled.
“Fine.” He sighed. “Then I guess I’ll just have to pretend to be completely enamored with your sexy ass and gorgeous mouth.”
“If Brock heard you say that, he’d kill you.”
“Empty threats.” Bentley whispered in her ear. “Tonight, he’s going to fall to his knees.” He pulled back. “The man cares about you—and now? So will the rest of the world.”
Jane laughed nervously. “I hope you’re right about this. I trust you guys.”
“Good.” He eyed her up and down again. “Good.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said quickly. Then his smile faded and he locked eyes with her. “Serious moment.”
“Um, okay.”
“You’re absolutely stunning. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. Hold your head high. You belong there. At Brock’s side.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak. Jane nodded and exhaled loudly. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He held out his arm. “Now, let’s head to the carriage, Cinderella.”
Jane laughed as they walked outside, her heels making a clicking sound against the concrete as her gold dress swished over her hips. At least she knew the dress fit.
She’d picked it out.
It was a bold choice.
With its slit all the way up her left thigh, all she had to do was trip and people would get more than an eyeful.
The plunging neckline covered her breasts then twisted around to her back in a Grecian manner. Everything about the dress was elegant and simple, modern yet very romantic.
Maybe something Cinderella would wear in this century.
Her shoes were a matching gold-strapped sandal, a little high for her taste but still beautiful, with diamond-encrusted buckles across her ankles.
She was so busy looking down at her shoes that when she looked up she was momentarily stunned. “Is that…” She frowned. “Buttercup?”
“Shhh,” Bentley whispered. “She’s in costume.”
“Does she not like costumes?” Jane whispered back, momentarily wondering if she’d left her sanity back inside the house. Why were they whispering around the horse?
“She doesn’t want you to recognize her. Watch.” Bentley waved her off. “Oh, look yonder at that beautiful young stallion! Garbed in black and gold with the family crest on its noble hide!” Then the oddest thing happened; Buttercup lifted her head and stiffened into a pose with one leg lifted in the air, head held high.
“No way.” Jane’s eyes widened.
“She just wants to impress you. Wellingtons are proud that way.” Bentley nodded and eyed Jane up and down again, then said, “You’re absolutely positive you want the brooding brother? I mean…” He stood chest to chest with her. “Positive?”
His voice lowered.
He smelled amazing.
He wasn’t Brock.
“Yup!” She nodded.
“Had to offer you an out.” He sighed. “Now, let’s go.” The door to the gold carriage to which Buttercup had been tethered opened.
“It’s a real carriage.” Jane said dumbly, glancing around the open, gold-encrusted carriage. It was beautiful, like something you’d see in a historical movie.
Or read about in a book.
It was a real horse-drawn carriage. The seats were a plush black leather, there were two fur blankets with matching pillows on each seat, and it was painted a rich gold with a red ‘W’ in the middle of the door.
Sitting in the opposite seat was Brant. “Wow.” He smiled wickedly. “Brock’s going to lose his mind.”
“Thanks.” She blushed and took his hand as Bentley followed in after her. “So I get two dates tonight?”
“Brant doesn’t date.” Bentley said in a bored tone. “He doesn’t like getting women’s hopes up.”
“Seriously?” Jane frowned. “And one date is enough to make them think you’re going to marry them?”
At the mention of marriage Brant’s face darkened. He didn’t respond. Bentley cleared his throat and slowly shook his head.