It was as if she were no longer alone. Someone else was looking out for her. Someone tough and strong. Someone who made her feel safe.
Safe?
She shook herself hard. Darius was dangerous. Selfish. Arrogant and cold.
He frowned at her in the backseat. “Are you crying?”
She wiped her tears. “Nope.”
“Letty.”
“I’m sorry. I just…” She faltered. “You’ve been so kind.”
“Buying you clothes?” he said incredulously. He gave a low laugh. “Is that all it takes?”
It was more than the clothes, far more, but she couldn’t explain. She said miserably, “I shouldn’t go with you to the ball tonight.”
His mouth turned down grimly. “You’re going.”
“Don’t you understand? It’ll only cause you trouble.”
“Stop trying to protect me,” he said evenly. “I mean it.”
“But—”
“It’s not your job to protect me. It’s my job to protect you now. And our baby. Never again insult me by insinuating I am incapable of it.” At her expression, he said more gently, “Don’t you understand, Letty? I will watch over you. I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you again. You’ll always be taken care of now. You’re safe.”
She was suddenly shaking as the town car drove down the street. How she wished it were true! How she wished she could believe in him, as she had so long ago.
The car door opened. Looking up in surprise at Darius’s driver, who was holding it open, Letty looked back at Darius. He gave her a cheeky grin.
“I’m just dropping you off. This is the best day spa in the city. Collins is bringing your gown and everything else you’ll need for the ball tonight. I’ll collect you here at eight.”
“A day spa? Why?”
“You deserve some pampering. Enjoy yourself.” He leaned forward in the car’s backseat. She felt his warmth and breathed in his scent as he brushed back her hair and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be back for you soon.”
As he drew back, her heart beat rapidly, and she felt prickles of sensation and desire course through her body, down her spine and over her skin.
And all he’d done was whisper in her ear!
Oh, this was bad.
Her legs were shaky as she stepped out of the car and was whisked into the gorgeously bright day spa with its tall windows, green plants and kitschy pink furniture. A team of specialists, including massage therapists, beauty therapists, stylists and more, surrounded her, moaning about Letty’s cuticles, her tense shoulders, her dry skin…
Hours passed in a flash. Her nails were done and her muscles rubbed and her skin freshened until dewy. Hairstylists and makeup artists came next, and once they were done, it was nearly eight.
Letty put on the new silk bra and panties, the perfectly fitting pink gown and sparkly stiletto heels. She looked at herself in the mirror.
Her long, freshly shaped dark hair was now glossy and shiny and bouncy from the hairstylist’s efforts. Red lipstick made her look glamorous, and her eyes were emphasized with dark liner and even a few false eyelashes for drama. Her full breasts, pushed up by the bra, were laid out like a platter in the knit pink dress, her hips thrust forward by the stilettos, her voluptuous belly the star.
She was dazzled by her own image. She barely recognized herself.
“Wait until Mr. Kyrillos sees you,” the proprietress of the spa said with a broad smile. “Our finest creation!” There was a whisper, then a gasp. “He’s here!”
Nervously, Letty came down into the foyer. She wondered if he would think she looked silly. She couldn’t bear it if her appearance embarrassed him, on top of everything else.
But as Darius came into the foyer, she saw his face. And she knew he approved. Deeply.
“You look incredible,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”
She gave him a shy smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
The truth was, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His hard jaw was freshly shaved, and his dark eyes wickedly bright. He looked impossibly handsome, tall and broad-shouldered in his sophisticated black tuxedo, which was obviously tailored. No tuxedo off the rack could have fit his muscled body so perfectly.
Wordlessly, Darius held out his arm.
Wrapping her hand around his hard, thick bicep, she shivered, remembering how six months ago, she’d felt his naked, powerful body over hers. Inside hers. She nearly stumbled at the memory.
He stopped.
“Sorry, I’m still getting the hang of my shoes,” she lied. She couldn’t explain that it wasn’t the stilettos that had made her stumble, but the memory of that hot February night they’d conceived their baby.
A night that would never happen again, she thought wistfully. After tonight, he’d run away from her so fast that there would be flames left on the ground, like in a cartoon.
This time, a limousine waited for them. Collins, the driver, wore his formal uniform with a peaked cap as he held open her passenger door.
“Where is the ball this year?” she asked Darius.
“The Corlandt,” he said, naming a venue that was nearly as famous as the Met or Frick or Whitney.
She gulped. It was even worse than she’d thought. As the limo took them uptown, she felt sick with dread. She looked out the window, frantically trying to build ice around her heart and get herself back into a place where she was too well armored to feel any attack.
But her newly scrubbed skin felt far too thin now. Wearing this beautiful dress, and being with Darius, she felt vulnerable. She felt visible. She felt raw.
Even though she no longer loved him, she still didn’t want him hurt because of her. She tried to tell herself it would be for his own good, so he’d realize they had no future. But she couldn’t bear the thought of what was about to happen.
All too soon, the limo arrived. Looking out at the crowds and red carpet and paparazzi, Letty couldn’t breathe. Collins got out and opened their door.
Darius went first. There was a low roar from the crowds, watching from behind the cordons of the red carpet, at seeing Darius Kyrillos, the host of the evening and currently New York’s most famous billionaire bachelor, get out of the limo, gorgeous in his tuxedo. As cameras flashed in the darkening twilight, he gave a brusque wave.
Looking at the photographers, Letty felt so weak she wasn’t sure she could get out of the limo.
Turning back, Darius held out his hand to where she sat quivering in the backseat. He lifted a challenging eyebrow.
Shaking, Letty put her hand in his.
As she exited the limo, a low murmur started amid the photographers and press waiting outside the red carpet as someone recognized Letty.
Then it spread.
There was a gasp of recognition traveling among the photographers and crowd like a rumble of thunder rolling across the ground. The camera flashes went crazy as journalists and celebrity bloggers started screaming at her.
“Letitia Spencer!”
“Where have you been for the last ten years?”
“How does it feel now that your father’s out of prison?”
“Do