"That's odd," Marguerite said. "Carolyn has money, she isn't likely to buy cheap shoes."
"Hmm." He peered to the doorway as the clip of high-heels warned that the women were approaching.
"Here we are," Gia said gaily as she led Carolyn into the room.
Christian's jaw nearly hit the floor when he got his first look at the transformed Carolyn. Gia had an entire selection of outfits she wore onstage, all of them tight, with short skirts and low-cut necklines. But he'd never really noticed how tight, short, or low-cut they were. He was noticing now. Dear God.
He wasn't sure how Gia had done it, but she'd somehow squeezed Carolyn, who was much curvier, into a black leather outfit that halted perhaps an inch below where he suspected her panties stopped. As for the neckline, it wasn't low it was nonexistent. The dress was sleeveless, strapless and rode across her br**sts to drop between them low enough to show she had no bra on. Not that he couldn't tell that by the way her br**sts were practically crawling out of the petal-shaped cups covering them. Or trying to; he was sure there was a hint of rose peeking out of one cup.
"Is that a nipple?" he asked in a squawk.
Carolyn glanced down and muttered, "Oh."
She then began tugging at the top of the dress, explaining, "I wanted to wear my bra. My boobs are too big and I always wear a bra, but Gia said noooo."
"The straps would show," Gia pointed out, helping her tug the leather up to cover her better. She then stepped back and nodded, satisfied they'd done the trick.
"See?" Carolyn said with a shrug. "She kept saying that upstairs too."
Christian made a choked sound. Her shrug had undone all their efforts to tame her br**sts back into place. Now there was a rosy crescent above both cups.
"I like it," Zanipolo said with a grin.
"Stop looking," Christian snapped, resisting the urge to rush over and cover her up. He scowled at his mother.
"She is not wearing that in public. She-"
"We can tape it in place," Marguerite said soothingly, moving to help Gia readjust the dress again.
"Tape it?" Christian asked with disbelief. "To what?"
"Do you have dress tape, Gia?" Marguerite asked, ignoring him. "If not I have some at my villa, I can-"
"I have some." Gia headed for the door. "I should have thought of it myself."
Christian was silent, his gaze sliding over Carolyn again. Gia had put her in black stockings and sandals.
The sandals had four-inch heels and the stockings stopped a couple of inches below her skirt, leaving a tantalizing strip of pale thigh on view. Gia had called them thigh highs when he'd once teased her that her stockings didn't go all the way up. Christian didn't remember thinking the thigh highs looked particularly sexy on Gia, but damn...
Carolyn had fine legs, he thought.
"You're right. She definitely has a fine set of gams," Zanipolo agreed.
"No one calls them gams anymore," Christian snapped.
"And get out of my head."
Zanipolo just chuckled.
Christian glared and then turned back to the women.
"Mother she can't go like this."
"Why is that dear?" Marguerite asked with interest.
"Because I'm too old to wear an outfit like this," Carolyn laughed with a shrug that suggested it should be obvious... and dislodged her top again.
"You are not," he snapped. Damn the woman had a fixation with her age, he thought and moved forward, intending to cover her boobs. He hadn't taken a step before his father caught his arm.