Falling For The Pregnant Heiress. Susan Meier
I’m here all the time.”
She glanced around. Even as particular as she was, she had magazines, books, pictures, scattered about.
“It’s just all so...clean.” Sanitary. As if he didn’t have a personality. Or a family—
He had told her that he was distanced from his family.
The thought of not having pictures of Jake, Avery and Abby on her mantel or Seth, Harper and Crystal on the end table by her sofa squeezed her heart. The thought of not having her brothers and their families in her life or being in theirs almost brought tears to her eyes.
“I’m not one for having things lying around.”
Okay. She’d give him that. But it had to be sad, difficult, having a mom but not being able to call her with questions or brothers and sisters-in-law to laugh with.
Before she could ask him about his family, he said, “Here’s the plan. I’ll contact my personal shopper. We’ll have her send over some jeans, a few T-shirts and something nice to wear tonight so we can go out.”
Not hardly. Her plan was for a soothing bubble bath. “We can go out?”
“For dinner. You do have to eat.”
“Oh. Okay.” She fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, dismayed with herself for jumping to conclusions. She was so uptight about Pierre that she kept assuming Trent was as bossy as her ex. She had to relax.
He picked up his phone, hit the screen three times and after a few seconds he said, “Claudine. I’m back in Barcelona. Unfortunately, it was an unexpected trip and I’ll need clothes for at least another two days. Make it three.”
He paused as Sabrina assumed the person on the other end of the call spoke. He laughed. “Yes, everything, including something nice to wear out to dinner tonight.”
He paused again, chuckling. He clearly liked his personal shopper.
A sliver of jealousy wound through her, surprising her. First, she had no claim on Trent—didn’t want one. Second, the woman he spoke with was in his employ. She laughed with her employees all the time.
“I’m traveling with a friend. She’ll need three days’ worth of clothes and something pretty for dinner.” He caught Sabrina’s gaze and grinned devilishly. “Yes. You know my taste. Get her what one of my dates would usually wear.”
Sabrina’s eyes widened. She’d seen his dates in sparkly little red dresses that clung to their bodies but looked okay because they were wafer-thin. She, on the other hand, had boobs and hips.
“I can’t wear what your girlfriends wear!”
Trent ignored her. “About a size eight.”
Shocked that he’d hit her size on the head, she nonetheless stormed over to him. “I’m not wearing something you’d get for one of your girlfriends!”
He clicked off the call. “Oh, sorry. You said that two seconds too late.”
“No, I didn’t! You deliberately hung up, so I couldn’t change what you’d told her!”
He ambled over to the sofa. “Is that so bad?”
“Yes! Your dates are thin as paper! I have curves.”
“Exactly. Curves that you never show off. You’ll look great.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do. Besides, wouldn’t it be fun to be someone different for a night?”
She shook her head. “I don’t do things like pretend to be someone different.” It had taken her too long to become the perfect McCallan daughter to step out of character.
“You just made my point. You don’t do things like this, things that are fun just for the sake of having fun. You need to loosen up a bit. If you don’t like the outfit, it won’t matter. We’re in a city where no one knows you. You can toss the dress when we get home.”
Seeing she wasn’t changing his mind, she marched to the Carrara marble island and grabbed his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“You think it’s so fun to dress like someone else.” She hit the redial button on his phone. “I’m calling your shopper and... Claudine? This is Sabrina McCallan. I’m Trent Sigmund’s friend...the woman you’re buying the dress for.”
He sighed. “Seriously. I think you’ll look great in something...”
Putting her hand over the phone she said, “Cheap? Sleazy?”
“Just a tad more sparkly.”
She shook her head once, quickly, in disbelief. “Are you ashamed of me?”
He laughed. “Actually, I want to show you off.”
Her breath stalled. He wanted to show her off—
She caught that thought before it could run away with itself. She was a McCallan. Her mother always said they had more dignity than to “show off.” Still, she wasn’t the one showing off. Trent wanted to show her off. Like someone who was important to him—
She’d never been important to anybody but her mom. She’d certainly never been important to a man. Her heart filled with warmth, but she fought it. She didn’t need a man to show her off.
Still, one look at Trent’s face and she knew she wasn’t changing his mind. But the craziest idea popped into her head. “And what if I want to show you off?”
He shrugged. “Have at it.” He took the phone from her hands. “Claudine. I’m going to put Sabrina back on the line. Get me whatever she says.”
He handed the phone back to her.
She looked from the top of his curly black hair, down the chest and flat abs she remembered from the morning, to his feet.
“I think Armani. A charcoal-gray suit with a pale blue shirt... I want it to be such a pale blue that it’s almost white...and a silver print tie.”
He made a gagging noise.
She said, “Thanks, Claudine,” then also asked for a curling iron and hair-dryer before she hung up the phone. “Now we’ll see who likes dressing like someone else.”
He shook his head. “I don’t hate suits. I just don’t wear them often.” He grinned. “This is going to be a fun night.”
She sighed. “You really need to get out more.”
* * *
They bummed around for most of the afternoon, eating lunch, walking under the leafy canopy created by the trees lining the streets of Barcelona. She marveled at the simple beauty of the city. She’d never been to Spain before, let alone walked the streets of one of its fabulous cities. It was easy to see that Trent spent a lot of time here because he knew the best restaurants, said hello to passersby, was casually comfortable walking along.
When they returned to his condo around six, the purchases of Trent’s personal shopper sat in two stacks of boxes and bags on the marble top of the kitchen island.
“Our clothes have arrived.”
She strode over, running her hand along the first box. Pink-and-white-striped with a black bow, it reminded her of coming home from school and discovering her mom had been shopping that day. It usually meant her dad was traveling and dinner that night would be happy.
Sensation after sensation poured through her. Relief. Joy. Expectation.
“Want to look at what’s inside or take everything to the spare bedroom and try things on?”
“I think I want a few minutes to myself with the red spandex dress.” A few minutes to get her heart to settle down and to savor the good