Miranda Lee - The Millionaire's Inexperienced Love-Slave

Her heart fluttered. So did her stomach. He really was utterly gorgeous when he smiled like that.

‘What about The Phantom?’ he asked. ‘Is that a goer, or would you prefer a different show? A play, perhaps.’

‘No, no, I love musicals.’

‘Would you like me to book dinner before or supper afterwards?’

‘I think supper afterwards.’

‘That’s great,’ he said with a satisfied glint in his bright blue eyes. ‘Now, after we finish our coffee, I’m going to take you across the street to a spot where you can have a proper look at my pride and joy. Then, after you’ve been suitably impressed with my brilliance at designing the outsides of the building, I’ll give you a quick tour of the inside.’

‘It’ll have to be very quick,’ she told him. ‘I’ll need some time before the shops close to buy a suitable outfit to wear tonight. I only bought casual clothes this morning.’

‘I could come shopping with you, if you like?’

Sharni could see he was very much a takeover type of person. ‘Don’t you have something else you should be doing this afternoon?’

‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I finished my latest plan to my satisfaction late yesterday. I always give myself a complete break between projects.’

‘For how long?’

‘At least a day,’ he said, laughing. ‘So what do you say? I have good taste in women’s clothes.’

‘I hate taking anyone clothes shopping with me,’ she said quite truthfully. ‘I prefer to trust my own taste.’

‘And an excellent taste it is, too,’ he complimented, his gaze admiring as he looked her up and down.

Sharni could not help smiling. ‘I think you are an incorrigible charmer.’

‘And I think you could do with a bit of charming. Ah, our coffee’s coming.’

‘Just as well. I need sobering up. I think I’m a little tipsy.’ It wasn’t like her to feel this light-hearted. Or this happy.

Once they’d finished their coffee, Adrian saw to the bill whilst Sharni picked up her shopping bags and stood up.

Oh, dear, she thought when her head whirled alarmingly. There was no doubt about it. She’d had way too much to drink!

‘OH, MY!’ Sharni exclaimed. ‘That is one magnificent building.’

They were standing together on the pavement across the street, Adrian holding her shopping bags whilst Sharni shielded her eyes from the sun’s rays and gazed up at Bortelli Tower.

‘I never imagined anything this big, or this beautiful!’ she said with ego-stroking awe in her voice. ‘I love the grey colour of the glass you’ve used.’

‘The manufacturer calls it smokescreen. Naturally no UV rays can get through. Or heat, or cold.’

‘It’s gorgeous. And the hexagonal shape is just so unusual.’

‘I like it.’

She smiled up at him. ‘I dare say you do, since you designed it. How many floors are there?’

‘Twenty-five. The first ten are devoted to office space. There’s a health club and heated pool on the eleventh floor. After that, it’s all privately owned apartments, with lots of balconies to take advantage of the views.’

‘I bet they’re very expensive.’

‘They are. But Gino sold every one of them off the plan.’

‘Wow! That’s incredible. So what floor do you live on?’

‘The twenty-fifth.’

‘The twenty-fifth.’ She frowned momentarily before gaping up at him. ‘You live in the penthouse?’

Adrian loved her sweet surprise. ‘It was part of the contract I made with Gino when he commissioned my services.’

‘But a penthouse right in the middle of Sydney has to be worth millions! I didn’t realise architects got paid that much.’

‘Some of us do,’ he replied, thinking of the seven-figure fee he usually commanded for this type of job. ‘But Gino asked me to oversee the construction of the building as well, so the penthouse came as a bonus.’

‘Do you do that kind of job often?’

‘Sometimes. It’s great watching my designs take shape. But projects of this scale take a special sort of commitment. That’s why I was able to negotiate such a good deal with this one. Come on, let’s go back over the road and I’ll take you up onto the rooftop. The view from up there is incomparable on a clear winter’s day.’

‘Will that take long?’ she asked. ‘It’s getting on for two-thirty.’

‘I could have you up there in five minutes,’ he said. ‘And back down here shopping in fifteen, tops. All the lifts are the latest high-speed design.’

She still hesitated.

Adrian understood why. Sharni was a nice girl. And nice girls didn’t swan up to a man’s apartment within a couple of hours of meeting him. Not even if that apartment was a penthouse worth millions.

‘I promise I won’t make a pass, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ he reassured her. ‘I just want to show you the view.’

This was only partly true. What he actually wanted, more than anything, was the opportunity to spend a little more time with her. She delighted him as no woman had ever delighted him. It was a serious shame that she wouldn’t let him go shopping with her. He would have loved helping her choose the right outfit for tonight. A sexy little black dress, perhaps. With long tight sleeves, a short, bottom-hugging skirt and a low-cut neckline. Very low. The kind of neckline that needed a decent bust to show it off. Like the one Sharni had.

Adrian gave himself a mental shake when his train of thought began transferring messages to his body. Highly arousing messages.

Thank goodness it was winter and he was wearing a jacket.

His sudden upsurge in testosterone, however, urged him to take more control of this situation.

‘Come on,’ he said firmly, cupping his free hand around her elbow and steering her back towards the pedestrian crossing at the corner.

She didn’t protest, he noted, going along with what he wanted. As a woman sometimes did when a man took the helm.

‘This way,’ he said once they reached the kerb, and led her along the street frontage towards the main entrance of the building. On the way, they had to pass two shops, one of which was a very exclusive ladies’ fashion boutique.

As luck would have it, there, on a mannequin in the window, was an outfit that was absolutely perfect for going to the theatre. It wasn’t totally black. Only the skirt, which fell in floaty folds to mid-calf length. The top was purple, and beaded, with three-quarter sleeves and a deep, crossover neckline, which was subtly sexy.

Not so subtle were the black five-inch heels that the window-dresser had put on the model’s feet.

‘Oh!’ Sharni exclaimed, and ground to an admiring halt in front of the window.

‘You’d look good in that,’ Adrian said straight away.

More than good, but he didn’t want to gush. Women didn’t like men who gushed.

‘You really think so?’

‘I really think so,’ he said coolly. ‘Let’s go inside and you can try it on.’

SHARNI looked at herself in the dressing-room mirror and thought, Wow, I really do look good, just like Adrian said I would.

Not just good, Sharni amended as she turned this way and that, setting the black chiffon skirt swinging around her legs. I look sexy.

And I feel sexy.

Was it the wine she’d drunk over lunch? Or because the salesgirl had suggested she take off her bra?

Sharni’s curves rarely went without support, despite their not being saggy in any way. She’d never been inclined to show off her breasts in public, Ray having always liked her conservative way of dressing.

What would he think if he saw you in this top? Sharni wondered as she stared at her exposed cleavage.

He’d be shocked, she knew. Shocked and disapproving.

She felt shocked, too. Not by the way she looked, but by the way she felt.

Unbearably excited.

A tap on the dressing-cubicle door sent a nervous gasp punching from her lips. ‘Yes?’

‘Your husband wants you to come out and show him what you look like,’ the salesgirl called through the door.

Sharni should have denied he was her husband. But she didn’t.

Instead, she swallowed, then opened the door.

‘Oh, no,’ the salesgirl said, glancing down at her stockinged feet. ‘You can’t go out there like that. I’ll get you some shoes. What size are you?’

‘Seven.’

‘In that case the ones on the model should fit you. Wait here. I’ll go get them.’

The shoes were produced, with Sharni having to sit down to put them on. They were cripplingly high and sinfully sexy, each having a narrow strap across the front, with two more straps attached at the back which wound round her ankles and tied in a bow. She’d never in her life worn anything like them.

Sharni teetered at first when she stood up, having to keep her steps small as she made her way very slowly out to where Adrian was waiting, leaning against a counter in the middle of the boutique.

He straightened on seeing her, his blue eyes narrowing as they raked over her from top to toe.

Never had any man looked at her in quite that way before, not even Ray. The intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her, making her knees go to jelly.

‘Walk up and down a few times,’ Adrian commanded in that masterful way that made Sharni’s stomach flutter wildly.

Not a totally unknown state for her these days. But her nervous tummy was usually due to anxiety, not excitement.

Once she found her balance, her hips surprised her by developing a decidedly sexy sway. The effect on her psyche was amazing. Suddenly, she was a femme fatale; a temptress who commanded all male eyes be upon her.

But there was only one male Sharni wanted looking at her at that moment. And he very definitely was, with glittering blue eyes that evoked a heat in her that felt both shameful and shameless.

‘I told you you’d look great in that,’ he said, his voice low and sexy.

Sharni’s heart quickened its beat.

‘She’ll take it,’ he told the salesgirl before Sharni had a chance to come to a decision.

‘The shoes as well?’ the girl asked Adrian.

‘Absolutely,’ came his crisp reply.

‘You…you do realise I’ll probably never ever wear these shoes again,’ she said, even as she admired them.

‘Of course you will,’ he countered. ‘Every time you wear that fantastic outfit. Now go get changed, like a good girl, while I fix up the bill.’

Sharni flushed with the weirdest mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. ‘I can’t possibly let you pay for my clothes, Adrian,’ she protested. ‘It’s not right.’

‘What’s not right about it? I can well afford a few hundred dollars.’

‘That’s not the point!’

He smiled, then reached out to stroke a tender fingertip down her nose. ‘All right, sweet Sharni,’ he said, his eyes soft on hers. ‘You can pay for your own clothes. But this is the last time you get to pay for anything when you’re with me. Off you go and change now. But don’t be too long. Now that you have something suitable to wear tonight, you don’t have to waste the afternoon shopping. We can spend it together, doing something more interesting.’

He was like a steamroller, Sharni thought as she changed back into her trousers and jumper.

But it was exciting, being swept along like this.

What did he have in mind for this afternoon? she wondered momentarily before deciding she wouldn’t wonder. Or worry. About anything. Not even what it was about her that interested him.

After all, a man like Adrian would have no shortage of women—more beautiful than herself—throwing themselves at him.