30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,41

know that.”

“Done what exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

We walk the last remaining steps to the doorway, still hand in hand, and just as we reach the entry, the door magically opens. Who opened it?

Marcus turns. His smile beams, and I’m instantly giddy. How did he do that?

“Mr Klein, Miss McMillian, welcome.” A lady in the nicest figure-hugging red dress I’ve ever seen waves her hand in invitation of entry.

I hear the lock turn over as soon as we’re inside. How did she know my name?

“Katherine.” Marcus extends his neck, pecking her lightly on the cheek.

“Marcus. Lovely to see you, as always. How can we help you this evening?”

“We’ve had a lost luggage situation. Abigail needs a week’s worth of clothing, please. The works.”

“Of course.” A single light is turned on above us.

So this chick was just waiting for us in the dark? Why does this feel so strange? The urge to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming plagues me.

Katherine walks a circle around me, looking me up and down. “Beautiful figure,” she compliments.

“I agree,” Marcus instantly replies.

What the actual fuck?

Katherine stops suddenly in front of me. I can’t help but admire her perfect rosy-blushed cheeks, red-stained lips, and long jet-black hair which falls freely over her shoulders. She is beautiful and stylish. Everything I’m not.

“This will be easy!” she exclaims. “Miss McMillian—”

“Just Abi or Abigail.”

“Abigail.” She continues, “Size six?”

“Um. I’m a size eight in most things.”

“I see. Follow me.”

“What?”

“Close your mouth. You’re not a fly catcher. Follow, please.”

I search for Marcus, who’s standing a short distance away with a gaze so puzzling, it causes my eyes to narrow in confusion.

“Abigail, please follow Katherine.” He winks.

Again, what the actual fuck?

Hesitantly, I walk, one foot in front of the other, as I follow Katherine’s lead. She must be moving at a slow pace because even with the newborn calf walk I suddenly sport, I’m by her side quickly. Light upon light turns on as we go, and then I hear music. Coldplay, “Hymn for the Weekend”. A shiver courses down my spine because the selection of music seems almost deliberate. Eerie. My stomach flutters with the wings of hundreds of butterflies as I continue on. How can I be this excited and yet filled with so much unease at the same time?

The sound of footsteps behind me causes me to slam to a stop. Turning slowly, I’m met with dark eyes looking on with an air of caution.

“Are you coming too?” I’m nervous.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this.” He smiles. He’s delightfully happy. “Continue,” he encourages.

Doors part, and this once silent complex becomes alive with busy people. I feel like Julia Roberts in the movie Pretty Woman. Although, I’m not a hooker. Or maybe I am. After all, I did sleep with Marcus and now he has opened a shopping outlet after hours for me. Am I expected to be his unpaid sex worker? I swallow heavily as we enter a boutique and, holy shit, it’s exquisite. The materials of the garments are soft against my touch. I can’t help but to caress each piece while passing.

“Everything is beyond beautiful, sophisticated,” I comment.

Katherine doesn’t bat an eyelid as she ushers me to a large change room. “In here, please. Try the green dress first.”

There are many outfits hanging in wait.

This is too weird. “Green dress?”

“Yes.”

The dress she speaks of is knee-length and fitted with capped sleeves. Elegant. It hangs alone on a hook, not bunched with others. I strip off my clothes and pull the dress up my body.

“Would you mind doing the zip up for me?” I close my eyes. This is so surreal.

The door opens and warm hands connect with my skin. Hands too big to be those belonging to Katherine. My heart leaps into my throat.

“No problem,” Marcus’s deep voice says, as he attentively lifts the zipper.

My eyes flutter open to our reflection in the mirror.

“Wow,” Marcus mouths before his head dips into my neck that tilts, allowing him access. I watch as his eyes close and his nose runs along my skin. “You look beautiful,” he says, seemingly awestruck before stepping away. I don’t reply. He leaves.

Sudden pulsating between my legs becomes almost too intense to handle and, as I look back into the mirror, I can see how flushed I’ve become. This man does things to me no man has ever done. It’s scary, yet exhilarating, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive this week with my underwear intact with him around. Thank God we’ll have separate