Mile High (Up In The Air #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I blinked awake slowly. James was still spooned tightly behind me. And he had apparently been the thing that woke me up, as he murmured softly into my ear. He was saying sweet little things, an apology in his soft tone. “I’m sorry, my love. I’d let you sleep longer, I’d stay like this forever if I could, but I have to go to this thing, and I can’t bring myself to leave you. Please wake up.”

“I’m awake,” I told him in a voice rusty from sleep.

He kissed my hair. “Good.” He sat up, slipping away.

I made a loud sound of protest at his absence.

He laughed, and it was a carefree, happy sound.

I felt my face soften, my whole body softened, and a tender smile took over my face. Hearing such a happy sound come out of James made me happy. How not? I couldn’t imagine being immune to him.

I sat up sluggishly, watching him stride naked to the door of the bedroom. I was naked myself, and couldn’t even bring myself to cover up as I sat up, sitting cross-legged and just watching him move.

He opened the door, bent down and picked up a large covered tray. He shut the door again with his foot, carrying the tray to a large heavy dresser and setting it on top. He took off the lid, picking up two large plates and moving back to the bed. He handed me one, sitting close to me, cross-legged, to dig into his own.

It was a small portion of lightly seasoned salmon with a small cucumber ginger salad on the side. James scarfed it down in a few large bites, and I didn’t take much longer to finish mine.

“This feels decadent, eating in your bed,” I told him between bites.

He took my plate from me, smiling. He fed me the last few bites himself. “Our bed, love. Everything is ours now, remember.”

I gave him an arch look. That was something I didn’t think I’d ever really agree with. What was his was his. I felt no ownership for any of it, and couldn’t imagine a time when I would. But I knew it was pointless to argue with him, and I really wasn’t in the mood to, so I kept my silence.

James discarded our cleaned plates on the tray, covering it and shoving it back out of the room.

He dragged me into the bathroom, and then the shower, speaking more to me with smiles than words. He washed me as he washed himself, as though I was an extension of him. He even shampooed our hair at the same time, lathering my hair and then his. It was a strange thing, having someone tend to me like that, but I knew it was his preference, and I was growing to love it, as I loved everything he did to me.

He even lathered up my underarms and legs, shaving me expertly, bending down under the showers hard spray, without a qualm, to shave my legs. He even had and used the razor I preferred. The man didn’t miss a trick.

It was a quick shower, though it felt luxurious. He toweled us both dry afterwards, touching all of the marks he’d made on my body as he did so. He had insisted on leaving my choker on, even to shower, and he dried it carefully and thoroughly.

His eyes were enigmatic. If I read him right, he both loved and hated the marks he’d made on my body.

The angry little marks both fascinated and worried him. He pulled me to the bed, laying me down to rub nearly every inch of me with a creamy lotion.

“This is not the thing to start if you want us to leave your house tonight,” I told him rather breathlessly.

He smiled wickedly. “This is actually me not starting anything. And it’s our house.”

Impossible man.

He even dressed me, though not in much. He slid me into a tiny black thong, a strapless black bra, and a very short, very sheer black slip. He put on the large diamond hoop earrings that matched my collar.

“Did you see the changes I made to our room since the last time you saw it?” James asked as he pulled the slip over my head. He pulled on a pair of low slung black athletic shorts, his chest bare.

I glanced around. I hadn’t noticed much of anything since I’d come to his house. I had been more than a little distracted, with eyes only for James.

I saw my paintings almost immediately, once I started looking. He had two of my self-portraits beautifully framed and hanging facing his bed. I didn’t know how I hadn’t seen them before then. They were the most conspicuous pictures on his wall, positioned for a clear view from his bed.

“They kept me company when I was missing you. Your larger self portrait is hanging above our fireplace in the main living space downstairs. The others are in the bedrooms of our other properties.

And the nude is in our playground.”

“I didn’t see it,” I told him. That was understandable, I supposed, since I’d been blindfolded for most of our activities.

“You will next time. And I replaced the mattress and all of the bedding. You said you didn’t want me to replace the beds, so as you see, they stayed. Also, if you didn’t notice, most of the playground was redone.”

I took some deep breaths, trying to process his actions. It was all very sweet, and my heart felt like it was twisting in my chest to think of all he had done for me, but my first instinct was to panic.

I counted and breathed and tried to react calmly and reasonably. “That was very thoughtful, James. You didn’t have to do all of that.”

“I wanted to. We need to get moving. First, we’re meeting with the dresser so you can pick out a dress.

You’ll get your hair and makeup done while she makes any adjustments that might be needed.” As he spoke, he pulled me from the room.

I dug in my heels almost immediately. “You aren’t wearing a shirt. There are people in the house?

You’ll give someone a heart attack like that, James.”

He completely ignored me, and I got quickly distracted as I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his back. It was still so shocking to me, and so lovely. A thought occurred to me. “Are you just showing off your new tats to anyone you can?”

He flashed me a grin. It didn’t tell me much of anything. He was just happy in general, and he wasn’t putting a shirt on anytime soon.

We stayed on the third floor, but walked down the long hallway. He pulled me into the room closest to the stairs. It was a very sparsely furnished guest bedroom decorated in blue. There were racks of dresses everywhere, nearly overwhelming the large room.

“James, is that you?” a voice called from what must have been the closet.

“Yes, Jackie,” he called back.


A small, black-haired woman walked out of the closet, clutching hangers full of colorful dresses in each hand. She grinned at us.

She was beautiful, with sleek, long black hair pulled back from her stunning face. Her dark eyes were almond shaped and vibrant, with heavy violet eye shadow that brought out her olive skin to perfection.

Her lips were pure crimson and the shade suited her coloring. She was one of those people who could have been just about any race, but whatever it was, it was lovely.

She wore cute little eyeglasses on her nose that were so attractive that you had to wonder if they were just a fashion statement, or if she really required them. She wore an impeccably fitted emerald green sheath with a bright blue belt. Her shoes were five inch stilettos and hot pink. She wore a necklace of deep jewel-toned stones, with heavy gold hoops in her ears. Both of her wrists were heavy with intricate metal bangles.

She looked fashionable and intimidating, and though the outfit somehow worked beautifully, I could tell at a glance that she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to try and fail at fashion. I was betting that she would think that not trying was the only way to fail. Her outfit was timeless elegance but still managed to be trendy. I was impressed. I would have been happy to achieve either of those things. It was ambitious to try for both.

She eyed me up and down without shame as James introduced me. “Jackie, this is Bianca. Bianca, Jackie. She’s responsible for all of the new additions to your wardrobe.”

She smiled at me rather expectantly. “What do you think? It’s okay if you hate it all. I just need feedback, so I can get an idea of what you do like. James here is my favorite client of all time. He lets me dress him however I like. Can you imagine? It’s every stylists dream, a supermodel of a client who will wear damn near anything I pick out.” She eyed me critically as she spoke, as though mentally taking my measurements. She even began to circle me. I thought she was a strange little woman.

“I, uh, haven’t had much of a chance to look at it.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, when you do, any feedback would be good. It will give me some direction for your sense of style.”

“Bianca likes the preppy look for men, Jackie,” James told her. “Keep that in mind when you’re shopping for me as well.”

She snorted. “And so it begins.” She sounded very put out by his request. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

I shot him a baffled look. Where did he come up with this stuff?

He shrugged at me, smiling a little. “You forget that Stephan and I talk.”

She was still circling me, studying me rather unnervingly. “James had you right on, size-wise. A size 5/6 in the waist and hips, and a 7/8 in the bust and shoulders. You have a body that’s fun for men to play with, but not too fun to dress. Your legs are a plus, though. There’s nothing I love to dress more than a killer set of legs. If you lost about ten pounds, though, you could have model proportions. That would be ideal. Something to think about.”

Some part of me agreed with her about the need to lose ten pounds, but it still stung to hear it. It was petty, but I had gone from kind of liking her to thinking she was awful in a few short sentences.

“Jackie,” James said, a cool warning in his voice. “She doesn’t need to lose a pound. If you talk her into a diet, I will fire you.”

She just grinned, uncaring about the warning and my stiff expression. “Okay, okay, just a mild suggestion.”

She laid the colorful armfuls of fabric onto the bed. “Based on your body type and skin tone, I picked out five dresses that I thought had the best shot of suiting you. Try them on, if you please, or anything else you see that catches your fancy.” She seemed to dismiss me completely after she finished speaking, approaching James with wide eyes.

She stabbed the red ink on his chest. “When did this happen? It has to be brand new!”

He just grinned, turning to show her his back. She was struck speechless at the sight.

I turned my back on them, grabbing the dresses on the bed and heading into the closet to try them on, while they continued to chat.

You wouldn’t have known it was a guest room if you were going by the closet. It was the size of a guest room all by itself, with mirrors lining every wall. I assumed this was the room where he usually worked with Jackie, going by the clothing, both male and female, lining the walls, tags intact.

I hung Jackie’s choices on a bare stretch of racks, eyeing them up dubiously. They were gowns. I liked skirts and sundresses well enough if they were cool and comfortable, but I felt overwhelmed even trying on the gowns I was looking at now.

I took a deep breath, plunging in. I wouldn’t let someone like Jackie see that I was intimidated by the clothes, or any of it, for that matter.

I grabbed a plain navy gown first. I could see by the cut of the top half that I wouldn’t be wearing a slip with it, so I slipped out of it before working the silky material over my legs, hips, and finally my bust. It was a strapless gown, with a long slit up the side. It zipped in back, and I couldn’t manage on my own. I almost took it off just because of that, but with a sigh, I stepped out of the closet to get a hand.

Jackie was still studying James’s shoulder tattoo when I stepped out of the closet. He shot me a admiring smile. “That looks great.”

I gave him a rather weak smile. The more I got ready for the gala, the more I felt a little overwhelmed by my misgivings. This was not my world, I didn’t want it to be, and I didn’t know if I could fake it, even for James.

“Can you zip me?” I asked him, my voice very stiff. He did, after all, have a strange woman running her fingers along his back.

He moved to me, completely ignoring Jackie’s demand for him to hold still. He held the back together, zipping me in with more ease than I would have expected. The dress didn’t have a bit of give in the silken fabric, and I’d thought it would be tighter.

I turned to the huge mirror mounted on the wall, approaching it to eye the gown with a critical eye.

James followed me, watching my face more than anything. I thought he could sense my uncertainty.

I thought the dress looked nice enough. “It fits,” I said flatly. “And it’s actually long enough. That’s pretty impressive, I suppose.”

Jackie made a little humming sound in her throat. “They make them long like that, for heels. Looks like you’ll need at least a three inch heel to pull that one off. It fits well enough. A little plain, but it fits.”

I headed back into the closet, biting back a comment about the fact that she had been the one to pick the thing out.

I chose a pretty lavender gown next. The top was a halter, and it didn’t take long to realize that I couldn’t wear a bra with the neckline.

I usually wouldn’t be caught dead going braless in public, but I tried it on, just to see. The way it tied gave the top a surprising amount of support in the bust area, and the silk was soft against my skin.

It was fitted, but not tight, from neck to about mid hip, where it fanned out in fluffy layers of chiffon, a high slit showing a lot of one leg. Jackie liked her high slitted gowns. It was ultra-feminine but still sexy, and I loved it instantly.

James blinked at me as I walked out, his jaw going just a touch slack. I was gratified. I decided instantly to wear the dress. Jackie’s input be damned.

Jackie whistled. “Very nice. I almost want to save that one for a bigger event.”

“No. I’ll wear it tonight,” I told her. I needed all of the confidence boosting I could get for the night, and James looking at me the way he was looking at me did exactly that.

He swallowed, then licked his lips. All of his nervous tells. It made me smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said, with feeling. “But it seems a little revealing. Do you think it’ll pick up as see-through with the camera flashes, Jackie?”

She gave him a ‘do you think I’m an amateur?’ kind of look. “It wouldn’t be in the pile if it did.” She turned back to me, her voice brisk. “Now to accessorize. You can go start getting dressed yourself, James. I got this.”