He’d come early to make sure he’d gotten the best seat in the huge showplace and sat front row along the middle of the runway. The designs were amazing, the women—though he knew they were just girls—stunning, the music great, the mood around him all shock and awe, the room dark but for spotlights and sparkles.

Lexi’s line hadn’t shown yet, and he’d already been there over an hour. He sneered to himself when the announcer introduced the line of the designer whose father had hired the photographer to stalk Lexi. The father was now dealing with a lawsuit. Jax didn’t give a rat’s ass whether he won or not; he was sending a message. One which had worked, if the fact that he hadn’t received any more nastygrams against himself or Lexi was any indication. And a recent call to Martina Galliano confirmed she hadn’t received any more communications either.

As the designer of the last line came out to acknowledge the crowd, Jax shifted in his seat and curled the program into a tube. Lexi’s line was next. And last. A grand finale of sorts, which pleased Jax to ridiculous levels.

The applause died down, and the announcer climbed the few stairs to the runway. Dressed in a tux, the middle-aged man addressed the crowd.

“We have a special two-part finale for you today, ladies and gentlemen. Lexi LaCroix has been a bright spot on the industry’s radar for some years now, and this is her fifth year at Luxe Couture Bridal Show. To celebrate her anniversary, Miss LaCroix has put together a brand-new design line we’ll be seeing for the first time here tonight, so get your cameras…and order forms…ready.”

The man paused as light laughter drifted through the crowd.

“Known for her exquisite artistry in bridal gowns, Miss LaCroix incorporates character and femininity into all her design, whether created with timeless elegance or modern flair, and has even been called by some in the business an up-and-coming Oscar de la Renta.

“As an innovator in the bridal gown industry, Miss LaCroix delights us with surprises season after season. Tonight is no different.” The announcer ended with a flourishing gesture toward the runway just before taking the stairs to the floor. “Regal elegance with passion from Lexi LaCroix.”

Dramatic, upbeat music filled the air, and Jax clapped crazily as the lights went out and the spotlight brightened on the entrance to the runway, designed as an ornate Roman archway painted in gold glitter. When the first model appeared, the applause died and the flashes began.

Jax marveled at the uniqueness of the designs, the flowing beauty of the dresses, the sparkle and shine on each and every dress. Each model, regardless of dress style, wore elbow-length crimson gloves, definitely adding flare to the designs. It might just be Jax’s twisted imagination, but the gloves almost seemed like an erotic touch.

And after watching all the other designs pass by, he could see pieces of Lexi in every one of these. Her subtle richness, her unique character, her endless dedication to understated class. There might not be any doubt that he was partial, but he found Lexi’s designs far and away the most stunning, the most elegant, the most distinct.

Two dozen gowns, probably more, had shown already. Gowns that had all been created by Lexi’s own hands. He might not have had the right, but he was still so incredibly proud of her. And also humbled by the reality that she’d gone on to put all this together even after he’d put her through the stress of a hidden relationship and then leaving her on the spur of the moment.

Lexi was indeed a survivor.

Jax couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Couldn’t drag his gaze from the dresses, each more stunning than the next.

When the model at the end of the runway turned and headed back toward the arch and another model didn’t appear, Jax knew they’d reached the end of the show. He crushed the program in his hands, brimming with anticipation for the sight of Lexi.

Instead of disappearing through the arch, the last model made a sharp turn back toward the runway. The music changed in tandem, signaling not the end of the show, but the beginning of the second act, which the announcer had alluded to.

The model’s movement changed, her steps far more deliberate and pronounced. No longer was she smooth and cool, but sharp and intense, mirroring the music. Then another model came out behind her, and another behind her.

Models streamed onto the runway with accentuated charisma and started…

Stripping.

The audience gasped. Murmured.

Little by little, the models tore away their dresses to reveal various garments underneath. A traditional, formal gown became a chic dinner dress, then a nightclub dress. Each design fell apart into different pieces, and once Jax recovered from the shock, he realized what Lexi had done—created several dresses within one.

“Genius,” he murmured.

But then even more pieces came off and bits of crimson began to show. Red bras. Red garters. Red panties. Red corsets. Red teddies. More gasps erupted around Jax, immediately followed by a burst of insane applause. Within moments, every model paraded along the runway wearing searingly sexy crimson lingerie and dragging their stunning white haute couture gowns behind them along the floor. And Jax thought the applause would bring the roof down.

Whistles, cheers, shouts poured from the audience as the models returned to the entry arch and lined up along either side of the runway. Once they were all in formation, the models turned toward the opening and joined in the applause.

Everyone in the audience stood, the cheering so loud it rattled Jax’s eardrums as they waited for Lexi to appear.

Twenty-Seven

Backstage, Lexi covered her mouth with both hands and started crying.

Rubi bounced on her toes beside Lexi, clapping and screaming to be heard over the applause, “Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I tell you?” She squeezed Lexi’s arm. “Good-bye Galliano! Hello LaCroix. Girl, you don’t need anyone now. It’s all about you.”

Lexi couldn’t speak. She could only shake her head. She’d dreamt of this moment. Of the ear-shattering applause, the standing ovation, the recognition, the validation. And now she was too overwhelmed to move.

Rubi grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the runway. When she tried to let go of Lexi’s hand and push her toward the audience, Lexi held tight.

“I couldn’t have done this without you.” Lexi pulled her into step beside her.

The ham ate it up, strolling down the runway like the elegant model she was, beaming, holding Lexi’s hand. Lexi waved to the cheering audience, bowed, continued crying, unable to stop and not giving a damn.

Rubi pulled her to a stop at the middle of the runway, leaned close, and said, “First row, directly on your right.”

Lexi gasped, suddenly terrified to look and see Jax standing there. She’d hoped he would come. Prayed he would come. But a big part of her didn’t believe he would come.

“You do your part,” Rubi said. “The girls know theirs.” Rubi released Lexi’s hand and stepped back, giving her the spotlight.

But now that she was here and Jax was right there, she was terrified.

Risk. Jax is all about risk. And letting go.

And both had led her here. Despite whether he still wanted Lexi as a lover or not, she knew he deserved that recognition.

She bowed to the audience again, mouthing thank-yous. Then she took a deep breath and turned right, searching for a black leather jacket. But every male in the row wore a suit. Trepidation snuck in. Maybe Rubi was wrong. Maybe she’d just seen someone who looked like Jax.

She skimmed the faces and passed over Jax’s before halting and scanning back.

Yes, he was there. Dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and crimson tie—as if choreographed. His hair was shorter, combed off his face in a sophisticated style. He looked so incredibly handsome, Lexi’s head went light.

He was standing and clapping along with the rest of the audience, but Lexi’s hearing seemed to have gone, because it all sounded muted now. All she could focus on was the beam of his smile, the sparkle in his eyes.

This was the moment each designer brought out those significant to the line and shared them with the audience in a show of appreciation. Designers often brought their wives, husbands, business partners, or a special model onto the runway. Lexi had always been up here alone.

Now, she managed to reach out to Jax.

When he stepped forward and took her hand, everything turned dreamlike. The applause dimmed. Her vision narrowed to include only Jax. And time seemed to float as Lexi tugged him forward. With one smooth leap, he stood on the runway with her.

She circled his waist beneath the blazer. Jax’s hands cupped her face, and he looked down at her with love and tears in his eyes. His lips moved as he spoke, but Lexi couldn’t hear a thing over the noise. She didn’t know if he was with another woman now, didn’t know if he still saw their differences as too large to bridge, only knew she needed to feel his lips on hers. Lexi pushed up on tiptoes to kiss him.

“I told you to come as you were.” She forced the words louder than felt comfortable to make sure he heard them.

He leaned down, put his mouth by her ear. “I did. This is part of who I am too. I was just resisting that uncomfortable merge.”

He pulled back, and the expression in his eyes when he looked down at her again was filled with so much love, Lexi’s heart flipped in her chest.

Jax pulled her face close, pressing his mouth hard against hers. Then he opened to her, and in that moment she knew he was still hers. A whole new sensation of relief and gratitude and excitement flooded her body.

Sound and sensation rush back in. The applause pierced her eardrums.

In her peripheral vision, Lexi saw two of the models approach Jax from behind. She smiled into his eyes and lifted her hands to the knot of his tie at the same moment as the models stood on either side of him and slipped his blazer off his shoulders and down his arms.

He darted a surprised look at the women, then a questioning look at Lexi.

“I love all of you,” she said as she loosened his tie and unfastened the buttons of his shirt to the increasing roar of the crowd. “And I want them all to see my inspiration for the new line.”

Then the models slipped the shirt from his shoulders. Lexi couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him the way she wished she’d been able to kiss him for the last six weeks. Jax kissed her back, his mouth generous, his lips unsteady with laughter and emotion. She guessed it was the actor in him that played up to the crowd and leaned her into a deep dip onstage, kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.

He finally brought her upright and pulled out of the kiss. Lexi beamed, held tight to one hand, and turned toward the roaring crowd with a sweeping gesture toward all his stunning male beauty, including his tattoo.

The crowd exploded with approval. Jax laughed, bowed graciously, then swung an arm around Lexi’s shoulders and turned her toward the archway, walking her offstage.

Jax’s heart was hammering as they walked through the rows of lingerie-clad models, all grinning and clapping. As soon as they stepped off the runway, Jax pulled Lexi aside and kissed her like he was possessed.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t push him away. Even as models and announcers and others passed by, she just kept kissing him.