Free High Stakes Seduction - Book 2 by Ami LeCoeur

separately. The wax-painted sections resisted color, which is how they got the whites and the lighter undercolors. It was definitely a labor-intensive process.
    We stepped into the steaming "boiling rooms"—places where the finished pieces were boiled for forty-five minutes to remove the wax and "pre-shrink" the fabric. Once the fabric was removed from the pots, they were hung outside in the sun and wind.
    I had never seen such a colorful display of fabrics! And the process was absolutely mesmerizing.
    "Our drying lawns are perhaps the most photographed clotheslines in the world," the guide proudly told us.
    We stepped into the showroom. The patterns that surrounded me were as brilliant as the garden outside, which I imagined inspired many of the designs. “This would make a beautiful dress,” I said, holding up a bright green fabric to my skin.
    Antonio eyed me, giving me his “Fashion Industry Mogul” once over, before leading me into a room off to the side where elegant mannequins were adorned in gorgeous batik dresses and skirts. He found a dress made of the same material I’d just been admiring and held it up before me. “Try it on.”
    I obliged, loving the feel of the clean, soft fabric against my skin. “Well?” I twirled before him, feeling the hem of the thigh length dress rise enticingly as I did so. “What do you think?”
    His eyes sparkled with approval.
    "Now it's my turn!" I walked back into the showroom, pulling down a multi-colored shirt in mauves and blues.
    He laughed when I handed it to him, shaking his head and furrowing his brow slightly.
    "Oh come on," I said. "I know it's not your regular uniform, but we are on vacation. Loosen up a little." You might actually like it , I thought, but bit my tongue to stop from saying any more.
    He cocked his head at me, narrowing his eyes a little. "Okay." Then he stepped into the dressing room.
    I tried not to be nervous. I had pretty much pushed him into trying on the shirt. What if he hated it?
    "Angela." I turned my head at the sound of his voice.
    "Oh Antonio! You look… great! " The colors were perfect, bringing out his eyes and the warm tan of his skin. The shirt across his shoulders gave him a casual island flair. "Now you look like you're on vacation!"
    He laughed again at my enthusiasm.
    Feeling a little brazen, I stepped to his side, taking his arm and turning him so we could see ourselves in the mirror. “Let’s do something fun tonight, can we?"
    He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. “What did you have in mind?”
    “Let’s go dancing.”
    “Hmm, I’m not much of a dancer,” he said thoughtfully. “But you do deserve an evening of fun.”

Chapter Twenty-Two
     
    After dinner, we made our way over to a lounge I hadn't been to yet. It was decorated with ebony furnishings and trimmed with gold and silver. A single red rose and a tapering candle sat between us at the cozy table for two that Antonio chose, right in front of the little stage.
    I looked around, curious and, I'll admit it, a bit nervous. “I-I’ve never been to a burlesque show before.”
    Antonio smiled. "It's a unique experience, for sure,” he said, as the waiter poured our champagne. "This is not something you'd normally find onboard. I arranged tonight's show as a special treat for our politician friend."
    "But you didn't tell me about it until tonight?"
    He shrugged. "Angela, I wasn't sure it was something you'd like. But when you mention dancing, and having fun, I thought this might be a nice diversion for you."
    I glanced around the intimate room, recognizing faces from the previous night. "So this is a private party? Is that why they asked for your name at the door?"
    "Yes. Special invitation only."
    Then the lights dimmed around us, leaving little more than the flickering candlelight to see by. A bright spotlight flicked on with a buzz and the thick, velvety red curtains shivered on stage. One long, sinuous leg, wearing nothing more than a stiletto,