the muted-color stripes complementing her complexion. The plunging halter neckline was super sexy. She wondered how Major would react to seeing her in the dress.
Number three on his list of things they weren’t going to do anymore was “touch each other sexually.” And he hadn’t, not since the night they’d had the hard, fast and totally titillating sex in her hotel room.
Of course, not touching had been much easier since they’d only been together one other time following the meeting in his office the day after their sexcapade.
Yesterday’s lunch had been at Sarabeth’s Central Park South, a restaurant where Desta knew they would retain maximum visibility. And she’d been right; they’d been stared at the entire time they were eating by other guests at the restaurant and even some of the staff. Nina was certain that a few people snuck pictures on their cell phones. But there’d been no touching. In fact, Major seemed to have gone out of his way to be as reserved as he possibly could—a fact that was slowly starting to bug her.
Not for the obvious reasons. She wasn’t falling for him and didn’t need him to reciprocate feelings that weren’t there. But they did need to appear comfortable with each other for their charade to be believable.
Nina brushed those ideas from her mind as the car came to a stop in front of what looked like an industrial building. The itinerary stated she would be attending an intimate showing of RGF’s couture gowns with Major.
“I’ll walk you inside,” Claude said when he opened the door for her.
Nina stepped out onto a quiet sidewalk in the Financial District, which was in stark contrast to the streets around her hotel or the RGF building. Claude closed the car door and walked with her a few feet until he could open a huge steel door for her to enter.
Inside, the place looked very different. Golden lights hung in large circles from an exposed-beam ceiling, creating soft light that mingled with the natural light pouring in from a wall of paned windows. Bleached hardwood floors stretched throughout and up the wide staircase.
“I’ll call when I’m ready,” she told Claude after she’d looked around, but he was already shaking his head.
“No need. Mr. Gold informed me that he would take care of your transportation for the remainder of the evening.”
Oh he did, did he? Well she wondered what that meant.
But it was too late to think too hard on that because Maurice came up to her, devilishly handsome smile already in place.
“Hey, Nina. How are you?”
“I’m great. How’s everything going here? Is there anything I can do to help?”
His thick brows furrowed, an action she’d seen Major do on a few occasions. It was amazing how much alike the two of them were without being identical. There was, of course, a resemblance—but there were differences, as well. While Major seemed to always be in control of his thoughts and actions, Maurice gave off a more relaxed demeanor. His ready smile, and that twinkle in his eyes she knew women were most likely dying for, identified him as the more extroverted twin.
“Not at all. We’ve got a great event staff and they’re taking care of everything. How’ve your first few days been at the fashion house?”
“So far, so good,” she replied. “The integration went better than expected and we’ve already started to see sales.”
“Cool. That sounds like a good sign.”
“It is. And this place is great, so I know the show will be terrific. I’m really excited to be here.” And that wasn’t a part of the charade.
“The production team has put a lot of planning into it, so I’m sure you’re right and it’ll be terrific. But we’re about to start and I was told to escort you to your seat.”
He extended his arm to her and she accepted it, telling herself there was no need to ask who’d sent him. It was Major, who was obviously still trying to keep his distance.
The room they entered was full of photographers standing with cameras in hand, and she was willing to bet there were several reporters, bloggers and fashion journalist seated in the chairs positioned in rows around a glossy white runway.
The show started seconds after she sat, and she crossed her legs, trying to ignore the empty seat beside her. Maurice had walked behind a black curtain and, when Nina looked around, she didn’t notice anyone else. But there were many eyes on her, so instead of looking the way