Swanny checked his watch. “What exactly has to be done to them? Aren’t they fine the way they are?”

The saleslady sniffed and put her nose in the air as she stared at Swanny through narrowed eyes, obviously insulted by his insinuation that her clothing wasn’t of the finest quality and that they had to “fix” issues.

“Certainly they are, monsieur. I just thought perhaps you had more shopping to do and it would be inconvenient for you to have to carry them around. It was a courtesy, nothing more, something I offer all my customers. Courier service to the location of their choice.”

Swanny frowned a moment, as if reconsidering his earlier decision. Then he glanced Eden’s way. “Give her the address of the studio. Have them leave them with the receptionist out front. That way we can grab them when we’re done for the day. That is, if you can have them delivered that quickly?” he asked, directing his last statement to the saleslady.

“Of course,” the woman responded.

“Then we’ll do that,” Swanny said, reversing his earlier dictate.

Dutifully Eden supplied the address and then gave the woman her credit card, which immediately made Swanny scowl.

“No f**king way you’re paying for all this shit. Hell, you didn’t even buy anything for yourself. I’ll pay for it and collect from the others later.”

Eden just laughed. “My father hired you, but technically you work for me, which means any expense you incur in doing the job you’re required to do falls under business expenses.”

“That makes no damn sense at all,” Swanny grumbled as the saleslady hurried away to ring up the purchases.

A moment later, the lady returned with a receipt for Eden in an elegant receipt holder embossed with the boutique’s name, along with the business card of the saleswoman.

“If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to come by or call. If I have an idea of what you want or need I can even take pictures in your sizes and send them so you can look, and if you want them I can take payment over the phone and have them couriered right over.”

“Merci,” Eden said, taking the envelope and tucking it in her purse.

As soon as they hit the pavement outside, the men all breathed a huge, collective sigh of relief. Eden and Skylar were smoothing their laughter and ended up with coughing fits instead, which earned them suspicious looks from some and outright glares from others.

“Such babies,” Skylar mocked. “You can take on a group of terrorists only too happy to take themselves to the grave as long as you go down with them, and yet a shopping trip turns you all into giant pansies.”

“Fuck you, Sky,” Edge said rudely.

But Skylar just continued to grin, delighting in getting her digs in.

CHAPTER 23

DESPITE the misgivings over the food at the café Eden had recommended, not a single complaint had been registered when they met Joe who was waiting with their orders. Swanny had seen the look of disappointment on Eden’s face when she’d asked if they could sit at one of the sidewalk tables and people-watch—one of her confessed addictions when she was in the city doing a shoot.

He hated seeing that look. It made him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. But damn it. As much as he’d move heaven and earth to make her happy¸ he damn sure wouldn’t do so at the expense of her safety. And so they’d taken the food the short walk back to the studio and eaten in Eden’s dressing room, which was large—worthy of the star she was—but stick six people in it and it suddenly seemed really damn small.

But then again, since he and Eden had claimed the small settee that caused them to sit thigh-to-thigh while the others either sat on the floor or leaned against walls, he wasn’t complaining about his accommodations.

Just as they were starting to put away the takeout boxes, a knock sounded at Eden’s dressing room door.

“On in fifteen, Miss Sinclair,” one of the assistants called.

Eden scrambled to her feet. “Oh shit. Okay, everyone, shoo. Except you, Skylar. You can help me get into this crap so I’m not late. Lonnie has been in a good mood so far. If I ruin it now we may be here all damn night.”

At that, the men all scrambled to their feet, but Swanny pinned Eden with a stare. “I’ll be standing right outside the door. No one gets in here without clearance from me.”

She waved her hand, motioning that she understood, but she was already hurriedly pulling together the outfit for the afternoon shoot.

A moment later the door closed and Eden grinned at the image of a big-ass surly bodyguard posted at her dressing room door. The assistants were probably drawing straws as to who had to come get her when it was time.

Although Lonnie was a stickler about time, one of his quirks was that he didn’t want the models on his set until everything was in place and ready to go. It was a superstition of his, an inexplicable one, but Eden had always shrugged it off. Directors were a quirky breed, no doubt about it. And she had no problem with not hanging around an unfinished set wearing spiked heels that made her feet and thighs whine from standing so long.

“It must be awesome to wear something new and cool every day of the week,” Skylar said as she helped Eden zip into the vibrant golden gown with the formfitting sequined top and flowing iridescent silk skirt that flared from her hips and fell elegantly down her legs. It gave just enough shimmer and sparkle to match the bolder sequins of the bodice.

Eden remembered in amusement Skylar’s reaction to the dress she’d tried on and then purchased. A Cinderella dress. This one certainly came close to that same feel.