Page 78 of Risky Obsession

“You will be.”

Carrying the silver shoe, he strode toward the woman at the counter. I had a couple of high heels at home, but none of them were as stylish as these. I couldn’t help looking at the price, and each time my eyes nearly watered.

How much money does Kane have?

While he was busy with the woman, I tried on several pairs, each classy and elegant, but none felt quite right. They were too high, or too flimsy, and downright uncomfortable.

What if we needed a quick getaway from the ball tonight?

There was no way I would be running in these shoes.

Maybe I could take a bag that would fit my joggers inside. I stifled a giggle.

Kane would probably have a fit.

Was he accustomed to dressing women?

That thought tumbled from nowhere.

You don’t need to know, Lacey . . . Tory.

Bloody hell.

Kane returned to me carrying a black and gold box. “Here we go, Madam Tory, your slippers.”

“Give me that.” I wrestled the box off him and sat on the soft leather sofa in the center of the store. I fiddled with the tiny buckle attached to the diamond-studded strap around my ankle, but the brace around my dislocated fingers was notplaying nice.

“Want me to do that?” he asked.

“Just give me a sec, you impatient bastard.”

Kane stood back. “That looks really nice.”

I wrestled the buckle on the second shoe into place, pretending not to listen to him, but somehow, wanting his input more than I cared to admit.

I stood and as I peered at the shoes in the mirror, a wave of confidence washed over me.

Kane grinned at me in the mirror. “And?”

“I guess they’ll do.” Truth was, I loved them. They were surprisingly comfortable, and they made me feel so damn sexy. A feeling I was not accustomed to.

“Perfect.” He smiled like I’d made the right decision.

As he paid for the shoes, I pulled my sneakers back on, strolled outside, and searched up and down the street. I didn’t have the same feeling we were being watched like I did yesterday.

Kane stepped out the door. “You’re going to need a handbag and some jewelry.”

“Hell no. What I need is a bacon and egg burger and a nap.”

He burst out laughing. “Awesome. We’ll do that, then we’ll go shopping.”

“What is wrong with you? Men don’t like to shop.”

“I never said I liked shopping.” His eyes lingered on me, and a flicker of something more than amusement danced in their depths. “I like shopping for you.”

“Wow. Now that’s a line.” I rolled my eyes.

“That’s not a line.”