Page 20 of Softest Touch
“Derek, it's beautiful,” I gasp, hesitant to move closer. The scarlet color is stunning. I go on tiptoe and kiss him. “Can I wear it?”
“Of course, it's yours, love,” he says, his adorable boyish smile appearing. “I'd love to see you wear it for the party.” He gives me a delicate kiss before taking off his jacket and walking toward his room.
I caress the fabric, gently opening it and holding the marvelous dress against my chest as I swirl around. He really had it made just for me.
After taking off the cocktail dress I'm wearing, I take a quick shower and touch up my makeup. I knew that course I took years ago would come in handy. My mother always told me I was a beauty queen, and although I'm far from it, I love my body just the way it is. Looking in the mirror, I smile at how great the dress looks on me. Derek did a marvelous job with it. I let my hair down, cascading over my back, and change my heels. As I'm switching out my earrings for smaller ones, I notice Derek leaning against the door, watching me. I turn around, displaying the dress like a queen, making him smile.
He takes my hand, makes me pivot, and his smile grows even bigger. “You are breathtaking! You'll be the envy of everyone tonight.”
“Derek.” I approach him, unsure how to tell him this dress is more than I deserve.
He caresses my cheeks and gazes into my eyes. “Yes, baby?”
“Thank you.”
I'm shocked by my own words. I want to tell him I love him, but I'm afraid, even if I don't know why.
Each year, New York's Fashion Week ends with a party that flaunts richness, elegance, and beauty. It's a closed-door event, so not everyone can attend.
We exit the limo, and the paparazzi flashes never cease. Derek and I haven't talked about our relationship, so I try to leave our story behind closed doors. As far as I know, Derek is a secretive person, and nothing of his private life appears in magazines. He has never been seen with the same woman at more than one event, so I try to play it cool and live in the moment.
As if sensing my thoughts, Derek tugs me closer and kisses me. I cling to his neck, making him smile.
“Do you know red looks good on you?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Then you'll adore what I have underneath,” I tease him. Derek is about to say something when Sienna and James approach us. Thank goodness they've finally arrived.
Derek embraces his brother. “Now the family is complete.”
James pats his back before releasing him. “Congratulations, Derek. Everyone is talking about your creations. I knew it was going to be a success.”
Derek gives James an I-told-you-so look before focusing on his sister-in-law. “Sienna, you look gorgeous. I thought you were in Houston.”
“We were, but Melinda kindly persuaded us to come here, and I couldn't say no to my future sister-in-law.” Sienna winks at me, and I feel my cheeks burn.
Derek wraps his arm around my waist and plants a kiss on my temple. “You managed to surprise me once again, thank you, baby.”
“You're welcome,” I reply, signaling the waiter to bring us some drinks. I raise my glass. “To Wilson Creations, many more successful shows, and conquering the world.”
“And to us,” adds Derek, clinking glasses with me.
The party far exceeds my expectations, and we meet many people interested in working with us. After one a.m., we decide to retire to the hotel. Derek lends my room to Sienna and James, and when I try to protest, he scoops me up and carries me over his shoulder into his room.
“Please, put me down.” I playfully hit his back.
Derek chuckles and gently places me on the floor. “I could get used to carrying you around.” He helps me take off my dress, and I remove my thigh-high stockings.
“It's not as sexy as I imagined,” I yawn, “but I'll be forgiven. I'm too worn out for celebrations tonight.” After striping off himself, he pats on the bed. “Come here; you're sexy as fuck, but I'm tired too,” he says as I snuggle into his arms, enjoying his sweet kisses.
* * *
The shrill tone of my cell phone wakes me up, and I answer without even looking at who's calling. “Yes?”
“Good morning, Melinda. It's Laura.”
“Laura, what time is it?” I ask while rubbing my eyes. “What's up?”
“Honey, your grandmother...” she starts to say, and I sit up straight as the phone slips from my hands.