Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

They were out in public—nothing was going to happen, which was both good and bad. Good because for some reason the thought of having sex with Kent terrified her and bad because being close to him made her want him.

Even as his lips lightly teased her own, she felt heat growing in all the usual places. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time. She hadn’t been with a man she liked in a couple of years. She wanted to lose herself in the act of connecting with a man and not have to worry about extracting information or making her escape. She wanted to make love in a house in the suburbs and wake up to the sound of birds chirping or kids laughing rather than make her way back to a dark and empty safe house.

She drew back and stared into his face. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

“Have I mentioned you’re totally hot?” he asked.

She grinned. “Not lately and I was wondering if you’d changed your mind.”

“No. You’re still amazing.” The smile faded. “Not just because of how you look. I want to make sure you know I like who you are.”

She hoped that was true.

She took his hands in hers. With the right training, he could become a killing machine. Funny how that thought would never occur to him. He wouldn’t hit a woman, wouldn’t shame her. Based on how Reese grumbled about the rules at home, she knew Kent was fair and reasonable, even when angry.

“Maybe I should meet your mother,” she admitted. “She did a really good job with you.”

He laughed. “Interesting logic. I’ll give you a couple of days to be sure before I set something up.”

Of course he would.

* * *

“TELL ME IT’S going to be beautiful,” Madeline requested, sounding doubtful.

Isabel pulled the white dress from what seemed like an impossibly small box. “It is. Four hours of ironing from now, it will be perfect.”

It was Wednesday morning and they’d just gotten in a big shipment of dresses. While it would be nice if they were sent in hanging boxes, stuffed with tissue and arrived in perfect condition, that wasn’t true. Most came folded, which meant wrinkles and creases and plenty of fluffing.

“I see I’m going to be busy for the next few days,” Madeline said with a grin. “That’s good. Shipping day secures my employment.”

Isabel laughed. “Absolutely.”

Later in the week they were due to get veils, silk wreaths and a few tiaras, but nothing compared to the work of getting a gown ready for her bride.

“The secret is never to let the client see her gown straight out of the box. She’ll never recover from the shock.” Isabel carefully unwrapped a beautiful silk gown with plenty of lace and layers. Yup, she and Madeline would be working late this week.

Thanks to her grandmother’s planning, the back room was big enough to hold a long garment rack. As each dress was unpacked, it was hung up. A few of the wrinkles would fall out on their own, but the rest required gentle ironing and steaming.

“It’s fun to see what’s new,” Madeline said, pulling out another dress. “The changes in the styles. Some are subtle, but there are still differences from year to year.”

“As long as we have variety,” Isabel murmured. “I hate it when stores focus on a single style, like strapless ball gowns. Even though I love them, they’re not going to look good on everyone. Every bride deserves to be beautiful.”

“You’re good at that,” Madeline told her. “Finding the right dress for the right client.”

“Years of watching my grandmother. She would take hours with a bride, talking to her about what she wanted, looking at pictures of different dresses, then having her try on dozens. It was an event.” She remembered being here then. “A bride would book the store for a whole morning or the entire afternoon. Sometimes they had food brought in.”

“You could still do that,” Madeline said. “A few clients would enjoy that.”

“It would be fun.” Isabel hung another dress on the rack. “There are a lot of changes I’d make here. Not that I’m staying.”

“Are you sure you can’t be tempted?”

“Yes. I’m still going back to New York.”

Isabel said the words with more firmness than she felt. In truth, she hadn’t thought about leaving in weeks. She still hadn’t connected with Sonia, but didn’t feel as frantic about that. She knew Ford was the reason and told herself to be careful. That he wasn’t the least bit interested in her staying. Still, it was appealing to think about.

The phone rang. Isabel carefully lowered the dress she was holding back into the box and reached for the receiver.

“Paper Moon,” she said. “This is Isabel.”

“You have to get over here right away.”

“Patience? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” her friend said. “But I’m serious. Shut the store and get here now! Bring Madeline.”

Patience hung up.

Isabel replaced the receiver. “That was strange,” she said. “Patience wants us to come over right away. It sounded urgent.”