Free An Enchanted Spring: Mists of Fate - Book Two by Nancy Scanlon Page B

she’s going to work here, I’m going to need her help with the press conferences in the UK. They love their telly over there. Is she doing any public speaking while you’re in town?”
    Aidan paused. “I don’t think so.”
    Colin sighed audibly, his face revealing a bit of the stress he seemed to be facing. “Damn. The media relations are only part of it—I also need someone to stand next to me as a spokesperson. Maybe I should just go with the last woman I interviewed up here. She’s not the nicest person, but she’d get the job done.”
    Aidan shrugged, but inwardly, his pulse kicked up. “Let me see what her event calendar looks like. Maybe she does have something, and I’m just not aware of it.”
    “I hope she does.” Colin raked a hand through his hair, then turned the phone’s camera to his computer screen. The display of meetings in his email calendar made Aidan’s head spin. Colin sighed. “Do what you have to so I can contact her directly. I need some help.”
    • • •
    “You don’t have to do this.”
    “I don’t want any employee of mine to show up to a white tie event in casual attire,” he replied dryly, echoing the words of Tess, the stylist.
    “Listen to the man,” Tess said brusquely. “I’m set for now. I have your measurements and I’ll send over the dress before tonight’s event. Do you have hair and makeup set up?”
    Emma’s eyes were wide. “Um…no?”
    Tess tsk ed and gave her a disapproving stare. “Shall I arrange that as well? I have a few contacts and could try to find someone.”
    “That’s not—”
    “Yes,” Aidan interrupted Emma. “Please do. Put it on my bill.”
    Tess’s eyes turned speculative as she looked between Aidan and Emma.
    “This is too much money for one night,” Emma protested, her face reddening. “Honestly. There’s probably a million charities your cash could support instead.”
    Tess placed a firm hand on Emma’s arm. “In my experience, the more you struggle, the more they spend. He’s a big boy. Let him spend his money how he sees fit.”
    Aidan winked at the woman, who had to be at least twenty years his senior, and she waved her fingertips at him as she breezed out of the suite.
    He leveled a stare at Emma and watched in satisfaction as her protest died on her lips. “You agreed to this.”
    She folded her arms and pursed her lips.
    “You signed the contract,” he continued.
    She huffed out a sigh and raised her eyes to the ceiling.
    “You gave up any and all rights to the next twenty-four hours of your life.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “I did not!”
    He chuckled. “Just checking your hearing.”
    Emma shook her head in apparent frustration. “I get that I need appropriate attire tonight. But I don’t need you to purchase me a new wardrobe!”
    He looked at the cardboard box sitting on the floor. “Your belongings beg to differ.”
    While Emma was sequestered with the stylist in the extra bedroom, Cian had salvaged what he could from her apartment, but there was little to be saved. Almost all of her belongings had been destroyed; the only things untouched were whatever was at the laundromat, which Cian had picked up on his way back to the hotel. And, judging by the size of the box, it didn’t look like she’d sent much in her last drop-off.
    She growled at Aidan, then rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I had enough clothing to last me until I’m paid.”
    He shrugged and remained silent. He got the distinct feeling that if he told her the real reason why he wanted to buy her clothing, she’d run so fast out the door he’d never catch up to her again.
    Hell, even Cian had raised a bushy brow when Aidan demanded Neiman Marcus’s best personal shopper to be sent to his suite posthaste, but he wouldn’t be deterred. When a lass came under a laird’s protection, he took care of all her basic needs. Food, clothing, shelter. And whether or not she knew it, having signed that contract, Emmaline