Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
He nodded and hid what I thought was a smile behind his hand. “Fair enough.”
“Also, you don’t have to entertain me.” I gestured to the awful, terrifying view. “We’re in New York. I’ll go sightseeing.”
He frowned. “There’s no good way to put this, and you’re going to be offended, but… I need you to go shopping.”
I squinted at him. “You don’t have someone who does that for you?”
“Not that kind of shopping.” He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably away before returning his gaze to me, totally defeated. “Clothes.”
“Oh.” Why was that supposed to be offensive? “I get it. I only brought vacation stuff. I don’t have a lot of ‘meet the mother’ gear with me.”
“Exactly. I’m so glad you understand.” He let out a relieved breath. “I authorized you on one of my cards. Go out, get whatever you want.”
“I know I’m supposed to protest and say I don’t want to spend your money, but you have way too much money.” Why did I still have a weird feeling about it, though? I supposed it was because I came from a world where words like “cost” and “price” had material consequences.
“Great,” he said cheerfully. “Make a game of it?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of game?”
“The dragon likes to spoil his princess. But the dragon can’t go with his princess. So, he has to trust that she’ll do exactly as he says.” He leaned back in his chair with a grin. “You’ll spend fifty thousand dollars today. Minimum.”
My jaw dropped. “Matt, I do not need—
“Or you’ll be punished,” he finished with a warning arch of his brow.
“Punished how?” I asked, though it wasn’t the first question that immediately sprang to mind. All of my thoughts went disorganized the moment he dropped the dollar amount.
“No orgasms tonight.” He reached for his coffee. “At least, no good ones. How about this: for every thousand dollars you fail to spend, you’ll be punished with one ruined orgasm.”
The noise that came out of my throat was somewhere between a choke and an indignant laugh. “Okay, where am I supposed to go spend fifty thousand dollars?”
“Start with Bergdorf. Mention my name to a sales associate and give them my card. Tell them you need a wardrobe for a weekend in the country.”
And that’s what this was about. I needed to look rich enough to impress his family.
My stomach dropped. “You must do this for all your girlfriends.”
“Not all,” he said cheerfully, taking a sip from his mug.
“The ones who don’t have the appropriate high-end clothing to meet your mother.” It came out sounding bitter and ungrateful and accusatory, and, frankly, that’s how I suddenly felt. Not good enough for him.
He swallowed and frowned. “This is exactly the direction in which I did not wish this conversation to travel.”
“Sorry. Pack your bags because we’re going there.” I folded my arms, and my shoulders naturally hunched with the motion. I felt myself growing smaller by the second.
“You’re right,” he began, making no apology. “My family is old money. There is a certain standard, and they judge people by it. I don’t. Frankly, I wouldn’t give a shit if you spent the whole weekend in pajama pants. But I don’t want you to spend the weekend feeling like you’re being criticized for not fitting in. At least, any more than you’re already going to criticize yourself for not fitting in.”
Damnit. He had me pegged there.
“I don’t give a fuck how you dress, Charlotte,” he went on. “I would prefer it if you were always undressed. But I also don’t want you to run from me when you find out the kind of world you’ll be living in with me.”
I shook my head and smiled, though I wanted to stay mad at him. Not for suggesting that I might need better clothes for meeting his mother than I took on vacation. Not for suggesting I spend his money, because he really did have too much. But for knowing me well enough that he could see the vain, insecure streak that had admittedly reared its head ever since I walked into his penthouse palace.
“And as I said, I like to spoil my princess.” He took another sip of coffee, then put the mug down. “And I love to spoil that gorgeous pussy. It would be a shame if I had to punish it.”
“What kind of activities do I need clothes for?” I asked, not quite ready to melt from his ridiculous charm. “Tweed for shooting?”
“It’s not a shooting weekend,” he said, fully blowing my mind when the answer I’d expected was, “Those are made up for movies about rich people.”
Man, I was way underprepared for this kind of world.
“My mother’s party will be formal. You’re going to want an evening gown for that. Dinner the night before will be less formal, but we do dress for it. You can do a cocktail dress. During the day, we’re more casual, but I’ll warn you that for my sister, casual still means dressing like a member of the royal fucking family.” He rolled his eyes and I got the feeling that he found all these rules as silly as any commoner should. “I would also suggest something for outdoors, if we decide to go riding.”