Free Unnoticed and Untouched by Lynn Raye Harris Page B

she demanded. “Your latest mistress?”
    His gaze grew heated. “Would that be so bad?” he murmured so that no one else could hear.
    “Yes,” she said automatically, though a part of her was saying no.
Please, yes, now
.
    No
.
    “You will do this, Faith, or you will be on the next flight back to the United States. But think carefully on your answer,” he said silkily. “Because, should you choose to go, you will also be without a job.”
    Fury rolled through her, followed by frustration and a sense that she was in over her head. “That’s blackmail.”
    She wasn’t going to give up her job over a wardrobe, and he knew it. That would be a stupid move, no matter how she might wish to see the look of surprise on his face when she said no. A fresh tide of anger rose within her that he would force her into obeying his will.
    She had a moment’s ugly thought of her father standing over her and telling her she would continue to go to school as before, no matter what people said or did to her, but no matter how angry it made her, she knew this wasn’t the same thing. Her father hadn’t cared that she would be emotionally scarred by the experience; Renzo was being stubborn over clothing. Not the same at all.
    But Renzo was unrepentant. “It is indeed. Now, choose.”
    Faith’s heart throbbed, and her ears were hot with embarrassment. She’d never been the sort of person to draw attention to herself with clothing, but were her clothes really that bad? The gray suit she wore was perfectly serviceable. The skirt hit right below her knees, the jacket hung to midhip, and her shirt was a daring pink. Her heels were black, low and comfortable.
    “This isn’t necessary,” she said. “We could just go to adepartment store and spend a lot less money. I only need a few things off-the-rack—”
    “Not a chance,
cara
. You represent me, and you will represent me the way I wish you to.”
    In the end, there was no choice. Faith succumbed to the will of Renzo and the overwhelming force of the saleswomen, who dressed her in outfit after outfit until she actually started to look forward to the next combination they would present her. She’d always worn her suits because she felt comfortable and professional in them. They were off-the-rack, and they fit just fine, but she was redefining what the meaning of a good fit meant as she tried on clothes that seemed tailor-made for her.
    The skirts were shorter, but not too much so—right above the knee instead of below it, and fitted to the curve of her hips rather than hanging straight down. The jackets were nipped in at the waist, rounded on the bottom, and cut to right below the waistband of the skirts. There were silky undergarments, belts, trousers, sweaters, dresses, shoes, handbags, scarves and jewelry that went with each outfit. The fabrics were natural, luxurious, rich.
    Renzo bore it all with his usual cool efficiency, looking up from his tablet when she emerged each time. He didn’t say a word unless there was a disagreement, and he didn’t try to force her to choose anything she didn’t like. He gave his opinion when asked, and didn’t contradict her when she expressed a preference or a dislike of anything in particular.
    It wasn’t much, but the fact he left her alone to make her choices made her feel somewhat better. It was as if he was telling her that he believed in her judgment, and she appreciated that more than she could say.
    After what seemed like hours, the parade came to an end. Renzo said something in Italian, all the saleswomenmelted away except for one, and Faith was left standing in the final outfit, a soft, pale green silk dress, belted at the waist, and a pair of sky-high designer heels in a rich cream color. She had to admit she loved the outfit, and hoped it was one they could buy. She felt sophisticated and pretty, like a princess instead of a secretary.
    “We are finished here,” Renzo said, and she blinked at him.
    “But I need to change back