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“That’s just ridiculous. No one is after me. How many times do I have to tell you this?”
“I don’t think you’re seeing the bigger picture here. We were hired to do a job, and until we’re released from that contract, we need to do our jobs, which includes protecting you in any way we see fit.”
I tilted my head up, staring him in the eyes. “If you are supposed to watch me, then why was I able to leave so easily this morning?”
“Who says you left easily?”
I was about to ask him what he was talking about when he turned and grabbed a dress off the rack. “You should try this on. The color suits you.”
“It’s too low cut.”
“It’s not that low cut, and you need to stop dressing like you’re some Stepford wife. You’re young. You need to dress like it.”
“I do! Just because I don’t wear revealing outfits doesn’t mean I don’t dress my age.”
“Wren, I can guarantee that you’ll draw more eyes in this dress than if you were to wear anything else in your wardrobe.”
Pursing my lips, I snatched it out of his hands and walked briskly over to the dressing rooms. As I slipped out of my outfit, I heard Brock talking to the shop workers, laughing with them and carrying on as if he belonged someplace like this.
As soon as I stepped into the dress, I instantly hated it. Not because it looked bad, but because Brock was right. I looked amazing in this dress, and it wasn’t nearly as slutty as I thought it was.
“Let me see.”
I jumped at the sound of his voice on the other side of the curtain. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn’t fit.”
“Bullshit.” He tore the curtain open and let his eyes trail lazily over my curves. I felt like I was under the microscope as he licked his lips. I’d never had a man look at me the way he did—like he was going to cage me against the wall and have his way with me.
I blushed from head to toe under his scrutiny. “Would you leave, please?”
“That looks fucking amazing on you.” He shoved more hangers of clothes at me. “Try these on, too.”
“But—”
“Just do it,” he growled, snapping the curtain shut.
I stood with my hands full, staring at the closed curtain. Was I really going to try on clothes for this man? I held the dresses out, admiring the gorgeous materials. The first one was gold. I could imagine how it would sparkle and bring out the gold tones in my hair.
“What could it hurt?” I muttered.
I tried on dress after dress, opening the curtain for Brock to see. His eyes perused over my body, and I could tell instantly which ones he liked based on the smolder in his eyes. It was so wrong that I was playing dress up for him. I was going to marry Bryce. Not only that, but Brock was part of my security team.
I allowed myself to enjoy his attention, but as soon as I was done, I dressed and shoved the admiring looks from my mind. I would not let myself go all gooey because a man liked the way I looked in a dress.
I jerked the curtain back and sauntered out without a single dress.
“Aren’t you getting any of them?”
“No,” I said flippantly. “I’m not interested.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They weren’t my style.”
“Who cares? They looked amazing on you.”
