Sold on You (4 page)

Looking down at her rose chenille robe, Gabriela pulled the sash tighter and reached for the door handle. She peered through the peephole and then opened it a crack, leaving the chain lock intact. Marcos' handsome, tanned face leaned forward.

"Hola,
" he said, taking off his sunglasses.

"You're too early," she said, annoyed.

His hazel eyes met hers with an apologetic twinkle. "I know, but things have changed."

"Oh?" She tilted her head to study him with cool appraisal. "Have you changed your mind about the weekend?"

"Not a chance." His dark brows drew together. "We need to talk. May I come inside?"

"I'm not properly dressed," she hedged, pulling her robe lapels closer together. She was naked underneath, save for red silk panties, one of her favorites from the holiday lingerie she enjoyed wearing at Christmastime.

The corners of Marcos' firm mouth lifted into a half smile. "You're decent enough. Please let me in."

"I'm not in the custom of letting strange men into my apartment."

His raised eyebrow, accompanied by a warning look, told her he wasn't amused. "I'm not a stranger. Now quit playing coy. This is important."

With an audible sigh, she unhooked the chain and pushed the door open. "All right. Come in."

"Thank you."

Marcos strolled past her and made himself comfortable on her bisque microfiber sofa. He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. Long fingers clasped before him, he watched her with brooding eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting across from him on the matching love seat.

"Guess who already arrived."

"Abuelita Coqui?" she guessed from the uneasy set of his features.

"Bingo."

"But we're not ready for her," she said, caught up in his scheme.

"Precisely. She arrived in Miami last night, a day sooner than expected. My sister is bringing her here around five—today!"

Gabriela expelled her pent-up breath. "Oh no!"

His assessing gaze briskly swept over her. "We need to buy you a new wardrobe."

"But it's only eight. The stores don't open till ten."

"You have a salon appointment first to get your make-up done and have your hair fixed."

He was getting on her last nerve! Gabriela threw a pillow at him. He dodged it with a surprised, "hey!"

"What's wrong with my hair, Professor Higgins?"

"Nothing. It's beautiful when you wear it down, but you always have it pulled back. I'm offering you the best stylist in Naples."

"According to whom?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"My sister, Marisol. She owns a top beauty salon in Miami Beach. If you hurry up, I'll throw in a manicure and pedicure."

"I'll take the mani pedi, but I don't want anyone touching my hair," she said mulishly. "John is the only stylist who knows how to handle my hair, and he's out of town."

"We don't have time for you to be picky. Marisol said Joelly is the best stylist in Naples. We're lucky that she agreed to open early just to accommodate you. Now hurry up!" he said, softening his order with a persuasive smile.

Gabriela nodded. "Fine, but you have to give me enough time to put my contacts in." She smirked. "Unless you want me to wear my horn-rim glasses. Does Abuelita have anything against glasses?"

"I'll wait," Marcos said, ignoring her cheeky question.

"You can help yourself to coffee in the kitchen."

"Thanks." He couldn't take his eyes off Gabriela as she left the room with her dark, lustrous hair curling in long, damp swirls around her shoulders. His pulse beat kicked up as he watched the rhythmic sway of a heart-shaped backside that flared below a tiny waist.
Damn, those were dangerous curves.
He smiled, remembering how her full breasts had pushed against the soft fabric of her robe, her nipples tight buds beneath. The image made him grow hard. He forced a mental picture of Abuelita Coqui giving him a disapproving look to help distract him from Gabriela's charms.

While she got ready, Marcos surveyed her small apartment. It was decorated in pastel shades and the décor looked like an ad for Pottery Barn with its eclectic array of glass, iron, and light wood furniture. Verdigris urns of carefully tended ferns and watercolor paintings lent a cheerful ambiance. The cozy living room connected to a dining room overlooking a small, Mexican-tiled courtyard.

In a corner of the room, a tall evergreen twinkled with bright Christmas ornaments. Marcos inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh pine scent. He glanced at the Nativity set on the glass coffee table before him, realizing that Christmas was just two weeks away. He probably should have done some sort of holiday decorating to welcome Abuelita Coqui, but he hadn't thought of it until now, seeing Gabriela's festive decor.

Fifteen minutes later, Gabriela returned to the room with her hair pulled back in a sleek braid. Her lush lips glistened with the barest pink lip gloss and she wore small gold loops on her delicate earlobes. Marcos strove to hide his disappointment that she'd hidden her sexy curves under an oversize navy cotton sweater paired with jeans.

"That was quick," he said, amazed she was ready in a mere fifteen minutes. Gabriela was either unpretentious or she didn't feel the need to fix up for him. Both ideas were foreign. The women in his life, including his sister and Abuelita Coqui enjoyed makeup and fashion very much. But not this one. Gabriela stared at him with a no-nonsense look.

"Let's go," she said in a brisk tone and headed toward the front door.

* * *

Joelly's exuberant hugs and kisses greeted Marcos' arrival at the trendy salon. It was obvious that he held a special place in her heart and the rest of the staff's. Gabriela noticed Joelly's curious looks directed toward her, until Marcos pulled away from the stylist.

"Joelly, this is Gabriela," he said to the pretty blue-eyed redhead. "I'm leaving her in your capable hands."

Gabriela rolled her eyes at him, then turned her attention to Joelly. "My hair has a mind of its own as you'll soon find out." She flipped her braid over her shoulder and began to undo the strands. "I don't want a lot cut off. I need to keep it long so I can pull it back."

Joelly smiled warmly. "Don't worry. My hair is naturally curly, too, but since I have it shaped often, it's easy to manage. I'll show you how." She turned her attention to Marcos, "Do you want a trim, too?"

"Not today. I need to run an errand. I'll be back in about an hour."

An hour and a half later when Marcos returned to the salon, he couldn't believe his eyes.

Gabriela's tight braid had been replaced by long layers of glossy, ebony curls framing her high cheekbones. Her emerald cat eyes glowed with wonder as she blinked at herself in the mirror and fluffed her hair with her hands.

"I can't believe what a difference it makes to have layers. And it's so easy," she said gleefully. "Joelly worked a miracle gel through my hair. Look at these soft curls!"

Marcos grinned. So the prim social worker was at least a little vain.

"I love the manicure, too," she said, displaying scarlet-tipped fingernails. Her jeans were rolled up and the ankles as she wiggled her painted toes at him. "Oh, and I added one more thing."

"What's that?" Marcos inquired, leaning forward to peer at her ankle.

"A little butterfly tattoo. Isn't it pretty?" she said, twirling her ankle.

A grin played at her lips, lighting her piquant face. Who was this girl? Not the same Gabriela he'd had to practically drag there. "In only an hour and half you managed to get your hair cut and styled, got a manicure and pedicure
and
a tattoo?" Marcos asked in disbelief.

"Well," she said, grinning openly now. "It's not a
real
tattoo. Samilia over here is so talented," she said, pointing to the funky-looking manicurist. "This one is etched with semi permanent ink. It'll wear off eventually." She twirled her ankle again. "I think it's adorable."

He stared at her, fascinated by the change in her. A good dose of pampering had made the usually staid Gabriela go a little crazy. What would happen when he took her on a shopping spree?

* * *

Standing in the designer department of Saks Fifth Avenue, Gabriela noticed that Marcos was getting edgy. His hazel eyes glowed with purpose as he held up a winter-white pantsuit for her approval. When she didn't respond right away, he tapped his foot.

"Well?" he asked, a hint of impatience darkening his tone.

"I have plenty of pants. I'd rather buy a skirt suit I can wear to work."

"We can buy you a suit, but work outfits weren't part of our bargain," he reminded her. His jaw jutted forward, making the cleft in his chin appear deeper. "Here, try this on. And this one, too, while you're at it," he said, handing her a black couture dress. "Hurry up. We've been here over an hour." He took her elbow and led her toward the dressing room.

Shrugging out of his grip, Gabriela decided to heed his advice and hurry up. Time was running short. "Fine," she said, taking the clothes from him.

Alone in the dressing room and safe from Marcos's interference, Gabriela tried on both outfits and marveled at the flattering fit. The lines of the exquisitely tailored clothes skimmed over her curves without emphasizing them too much.

She caught her breath when she glanced at the exorbitant price tags. For the price of just one outfit, she could buy many work suits. She felt a little guilty over indulging in such extravagance but not because she was spending Marcos' money. He could well afford it.

Having grown up raised by a struggling single mom, she had spent most of her life scrimping to make ends meet. Even though she made a decent salary now, she disdained waste in any form. She winced, thinking about how that money could be better spent on one of her social causes. But she felt a little better when she remembered Marcos was paying handsomely toward her favorite charity and the purchase of these expensive outfits was necessary because he demanded it.

She strolled out of the dressing room and joined Marcos where he stood waiting, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm having a hard time deciding between this and the pantsuit," she said, standing before him in the black crepe dress. "What do you think?" she said, wishing she hadn't asked his opinion once the words were out.

"Turn around."

She anchored her fists on her hips and faced him squarely. "Forget it. You've seen enough, Doc. I'm not twirling around for your macho approval."

Marcos's eyebrows shot up. "Better curb that sharp tongue around Abuelita Coqui. She won't appreciate it."

Gabriela looked up at the ceiling for several seconds to cool off. Cocking her head to one side, she met his gaze with her hands raised her hands palm upward. "Well? Which one?"

"We'll take both," he said smoothly.

"Both? These two amount to one week's salary for me."

"So what? The black dress is perfect for going out to dinner tonight. Tomorrow you can wear the pantsuit to church and brunch. We'll take these, too," he said, holding up two designer dresses.

"Aren't you going a little overboard?"

"Think of them as Christmas presents."

Gabriela loved the gorgeous dresses he'd chosen for her, but she hid her delight with a flippant, "Who am I to argue with Santa?"

She turned and headed toward the fitting room, not amused when she heard Marcos' low wolf whistle. She threw him a withering look over her shoulder and ignored his deep masculine chuckle as she darted behind the door.

A few moments later, Gabriela joined him at the cash register and handed the clothing to the eager sales associate who rang them up.

The stylish woman said, "Don't forget to stop in the lingerie department. We're having a designer trunk show featuring—"

"We will," Marcos said, grinning at Gabriela.

"Cool it, Santa," Gabriela said dryly gaining a puzzled look from the saleslady. "I'll buy my panties on my own time. See you in the shoe department."

* * *

Marcos and Gabriela left Saks laden with packages. In a mere two hours, they'd managed to buy her a fabulous new wardrobe. In addition to the clothes, Marcos had bought her three gorgeous pairs of designer shoes, a small black Chanel evening bag and a tan Tory Burch handbag. The newly purchased Gucci sunglasses she wore covered most of the amazing beauty makeover by a Dior makeup artist.

Gabriela had initially balked at Marcos's insistence that she should wear makeup to complement her new look. But once the artist had explained that she would make Gabriela's complexion glow with the right colors, she'd given in. Now she tightly clutched a bag carrying all the fabulous products the artist had used to glamorize her.

As they approached the car, Gabriela's growling stomach made her put aside her annoyance that Marcos had managed to have the last say in everything so far. Despite the beautiful items he'd generously bought for her, Gabriela was appalled by the exorbitant prices he'd paid without blinking an eye. He had simply whipped out his credit card and spent what it took her many weeks to earn.

"Isn't it time for lunch?" she asked while they put her purchases in his car trunk.

"Yeah, I'm hungry too. My housekeeper, Carmen, left some prepared dishes for the weekend. We can grab a quick bite at my apartment before you change."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his apartment.

They turned into Pelican Bay and passed luxurious buildings that she could only dream of visiting. She'd seen the models when they had first gone up for sale and they were stunning with expansive views of the Gulf of Mexico.

Moments later, Marcos's hand rested on the small of Gabriela's back as he led her into his condominium and Gabriela had a flashback of their sensual tango. The familiarity of his hand on her spine made her glance at him and his warm smile made her tingle inside.
Stop falling for his charm, silly! He's using you for his scheme.

"Nice place," she murmured, awestruck by his elegantly appointed condo.

Sleek, minimalist Italian furniture, including a dove-gray suede sofa with pewter legs, rested on glossy pale oak floors. Modern oil paintings in vivid colors graced the pale wheat-colored walls. On the opposite end of the living room, oversize sliding glass doors offered a breathtaking view of the blue ocean and a clear blue sky from the eighteenth floor.