“What about Nika? We can’t leave her in the car while we shop.” When Julien said the dog would go everywhere with them—she didn’t realize he’d meant it in a literal sense.
“She’ll wait by the shop door for us. Don’t worry. She knows her business.”
Confidence from a bygone era, or maybe the resurrection of a part of her past enabled not only insight into her desires, but also sanctioned her yearning to open her heart to new experiences.
The thrum of tires on the tar-and-chip road beckoned her into its inscrutable lull to mute the myriad emotions swirling within, the white noise drowning her thoughts and issuing a Zen-like state.
Soft strains of the radio’s classical music furthered the mystery of Julien. Her quizzical look was answered with a shoulder shrug. Still on a cloud of bliss, she remained immune to the visual splendor of the bucolic scenery rushing by with her mind swimming in a cloud of blessed euphoria, her troubles and cares washed to the shores of some unknown, forgotten domain. Nika lay curled in the back seat, claiming the spot as her own.
Tranquility was too new, too spectacular to accept at face value. Her first orgasm with her first lover. Are we lovers? He didn’t remove his clothes, didn’t find release. She wondered where that put their encounter on the grand scale of life.
He cares. The tender way he’d held her during the night and sent her to heaven in the morning, he was testing her, trusting she’d have confidence and courage in his commitment. Still, he wasn’t opening up with his heart.
“Where’re we going?” Her voice, strong and self-satisfied emerged from an invigorated if confused spirit.
“I’m taking you shopping for some new clothes before we go to the office.”
“I just bought new clothes—and thank you for lending me the money.” Her senses still reeled from the extraordinary morning.
“Not enough, sweetheart. You need more—this time I’ll help. You’ll also need sweats for martial arts training, not to mention sleepwear.”
“Help…me shop?” That brought her back in the moment with a frigid finality. “You want to help me pick out clothes? You really don’t need to go to the trouble…” She hated shopping, sales girls hovering and offering unwanted advice in the guise of friendliness. He might want me to buy a dress which would show my scars. She’d never worn nylons and didn’t care to start. She bit her lower lip as she glanced at him.
“Adara.”
She recognized the tone…the voice. Change the topic. “Thank you, Julien. I appreciate your help. I guess you’re a black belt in something or other.” She had vowed to rely on faith.
“Yes, and I think it would help build your confidence. We can start this weekend.”
“Sounds great. I can’t wait.” The thought of physical contact sounded interesting…until it came within a fighting context.
“I need to go into the office for a few hours today, but tonight I want to take you to a munch.”
“What’s a munch?”
“It’s a get-together at our club. A social gathering. Meet and greet. Look at it as embarking on a new adventure.”
“I do.” Simple and direct. Another mysterious aspect of Julien to unravel at a later time. He’d taken her to a club on the outskirts of town and she’d enjoyed every minute. Slow-dancing had topped her list until their encounter in the kitchen. The memory of where that smile had visited earlier brought a rush of warmth to her face.
The blissful bubble popped when the car rolled to a stop at the upscale mall, one she’d never patronized. Bold letters advertised the shop where Jackie reported buying her elegant and classy wardrobe.
There’re other shops here. A slow, deep breath in and out calmed her turbulent thoughts. She could do it. The new inner strength she’d felt earlier would see her through the next hour.
“By the way, when’s your period due?”
And then he does…that. Her face couldn’t get any hotter. “Um, in a couple of weeks…”
“Good.” The question seemed as natural to him as asking about the weather.
It occurred to her that she’d not maintain any secrets and that maybe boyfriends asked such questions. Though Maura was a good friend, they’d never discussed personal business.
Julien’s intense gaze remained focused as he selected garment after garment in the pricey boutique. Setting a new paradigm for the fashion world was not on her to-do list. Nausea bloomed as he handed finely tailored clothes to the sales clerk—who needed a drool cup.
Arrgh. Nature unbound. The sight of him attracted the opposite sex like steel filings to a magnet, yet he never seemed to notice, nor did he primp or preen.
His presence filled every corner of the shop and commanded furtive, appreciative glances from the opposite sex. For the hundredth time, she fidgeted over his selection of a thin, clingy, knit shirt, something that would have never caught her notice. To make matters worse, each time he found something that piqued his interest, he’d hold the offensive garment up to inspect its cut and quality.
Her heart raced. If she could find a polite way to remind him who’d be wearing the clothes, maybe he’d reconsider his choices. Not only did the fabrics she brushed up against feel more expensive than anything she’d ever worn, the designs were sophisticated, figure hugging, and just—wrong for her.
One leaden foot followed the other as she trailed him. If she didn’t stick close, the sales clerk would wonder why an urchin whose wardrobe screamed cut-rate shopper wondered into the shop. As it stood, the quizzical looks in her direction kept Adara’s movements in a constant state of fidget.
For someone always aware of his surroundings, Julien ignored her panic, or maybe took it in stride. With the arms of the sales girl loaded, he turned to say, “Okay, sweetheart, let’s see you try these on.”
“All of them?”
With a wink and a smile, he answered. “Not at one time…I can’t wait to see you in them. You’re going to look spectacular.”
“You’re coming in with me?”
He chuckled before adding, “I’ll have a seat outside the dressing rooms. You can come out and show me each outfit. Don’t worry, you’ll learn to like this.”
Not in this lifetime. It occurred that the reason she didn’t know about the modeling area was because it wasn’t located on the floor by her feet. No doubt, the area sported many mirrors to magnify horror at every angle.
Without conscious thought, she wrapped her arms around her waist and lightly rubbed her hands up and down the goose-pimpled flesh, which had nothing to do with the air-conditioning or his close proximity.
When he took hold of her hands and pulled her into his embrace, she melted in for a quick hug regardless of the sales girl’s smirk.
She lifted her chin a notch as she passed the clerk.
One after another outfit hugged her curves and emphasized her height. The man understood a woman’s body and knew what he liked, judging by the appreciative gleam in his eye. She’d set the skirts aside in hopes of finding a way to sway his determination. He wasn’t the type to humiliate a woman by showing off her scars.
“Nice, Adara. I like that, too. We’ll take it. I think you have some skirts to try on now. Let’s see how they look.”
She groaned. “Um, Julien?” She sidled up to where he sat. “I’m not really comfortable in a skirt, there’s a bunch of um, marks on my legs…”
“Adara, don’t worry about them. I’ll show you why, later. Now. Try on your skirts.”
Oh God. The voice. On top of that, he fought with logic. She headed back into the dressing room.
If she wore colored nylons, no one would suspect her past. The longer she dallied in pulling on the first skirt, the more she realized she believed in Julien at every level. He wasn’t the type to humiliate a girlfriend.
When she opened the dressing-room door wearing a short, pencil knit, uncertainty stopped her in the doorway.
“Come on out, sweetheart, let’s see.”
She knew he sent that deep gentle voice like a gift, to soothe. Padding in knee-high-stockinged feet on the Berber carpet to stand before him reminded her of how pirates made prisoners walk the plank. After a twirling motion with his fingers, she did a slow pirouette.
“Perfect. You look absolutely beautiful.”
Relief flooded her at the realization no one else stood near enough to witness her humiliation. She didn’t dare look in the mirrors. No good could come from accumulating more visual fodder for her nightmares.
“Come closer, sweetheart.”
The twinkle in his eyes spelled trouble. She stepped up beside him. Wary.
“Adara, do you believe for one second I would lie to you? I told you you’re beautiful and I meant it.”
His gravelly voice brought her gaze to search his face.
To prove his sincerity, he uncrossed his legs and flexed his hips before crossing them again, then grinned at her gasp.
She didn’t miss the proof of his claim.
* * * *
The temptation to join Adara in the dressing room to substantiate his sincerity died with understanding of how quickly faith could turn to doubt. Self-control had never been a problem before meeting his fey-like charge. He’d do nothing to undermine her growing confidence.
The first four skirts fit her like a second skin. The long slit in another ran the length to her hip to expose the most graceful leg he’d ever seen.
Her gaze never wandered near the mirrors, but she did try the skirts on. Baby steps.
The next outfit amounted to leather patches held up with side-tying strings. The scant material and exposure of slim hips would ensure she wouldn’t sit. She would know its purpose with their next night out.
Not the way to cool your blood.
Beyond the closed door, references to jungle outfits made him smile. She would never give such a garment a second thought if given the choice. It lay far outside her comfort zone. Perfect.
He reserved the exciting part of their shopping spree for next to last. When it came to lingerie, she again cast her gaze down as he took his time inspecting and making selections. Each time he glanced at her, her blush turned darker. “I like this one a lot, I think on occasion your nipples will poke through the lace. What do you think, Adara?”
She groaned.
“Adara?”
“Um, I don’t think it will fit…”
Unless she detailed its reflection in the floor tile, she wouldn’t know. “We’ll see when you try it on.”
That brought her head up. Her shocked gaze met his before sliding to look around the boutique. Two other women were shopping for lingerie, each sending sly and enthusiastic glances his way.
When a petite brunette wandered over, still searching through the racks, she asked, “Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Not exactly. Just having a difficult time making decisions.” The cougar’s forward manner didn’t faze him.
Flipping her short-bobbed hair, her calculating gaze flicked from him to Adara and then back before she licked her lips suggestively and said, “I do, too, till I try them on. It’s always nicer to see them on a model first. If you need any help, let me know.”
A discussion ensued on the merits of underwire, strapless, and crisscross bras. He remained perfectly comfortable in the discussion, unlike Adara who looked like she wanted to hide under the clothes rack. When the older woman wandered off, he realized Adara’s profile registered both frustration and relief. Maybe a small mix of jealousy on the side.
“All right, let’s go see how these look.”
“You want to see them on me, here?” Squeaked out between near panting breaths, she looked around as if to latch onto sanity and hold tight.
The brunette circled.
He didn’t want to be accosted or propositioned, but attack was imminent, judging by the feral gleam in the cougar’s caramel-colored gaze.
“Well, of course I’m going to see them on you before we buy them, not sure of some of these colors…”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask Miss Barracuda to model them.” Her feet suddenly seemed fascinating, as she scuffed her toe on the floor.
Adara’s version of fidgeting. From the corner of his eye, the brunette sidled his way.
Okay, two birds with one stone.
Without warning, he draped the lingerie over the rack and gathered Adara in his arms. His kiss, intended as much for the predator as Adara, backfired. The second he touched her, everything else dissipated. Only Adara mattered. His tongue tangled with hers and demanded she open for him. With one hand cradling her head, he let the other slide down her spine to cup her bottom. On a swallowed sigh, she went lax in his arms.
Seconds passed, Adara trembled but met his fervor with equal energy, shyly at first, then with a ferocity that almost made him forget they were in public. Her response tested his self-control.
More humiliation was the last thing he wanted her to experience. With a sigh, he rested his forehead against hers to gain control of little Julien. Passion didn’t equal sincerity, but he wanted her to understand what he felt. Pulling her tight into his frame, he let her feel his arousal. When he stepped back, her eyes looked properly glazed. “Any doubts now, Adara? You, and you alone, are the one I want.”
“Nope. None.” She gulped hard, but directed a smug smile at the brunette.
Another point for Adara’s self-esteem.
Taking the lingerie, he led her through the open entrance to the dressing rooms and sank into the cushioned microfiber bench. Four slatted doors, all open, offered her a place to hide.
She wasted no time before scurrying into the nearest one.
Visions of her shuddering over his choices constrained his enthusiasm while the slow repeated clink of hangers furnished time for procrastination. He wondered if she would balk at modeling them.
“I’ll sit here. You can just open the door and let me see. I’m not going to parade you around the store…although, I’d really like to. You have a beautiful body.” He would never do such a thing.
Equal amounts of relief and horror battled for supremacy in her expression when she appeared—and stole his breath. Hunched posture and glossy curls concealed most of her charms but didn’t detract from her beauty, his little Gaia, Goddess of the Earth.
“After this, we’ll go look for some shoes and stockings.” Julien grinned at her look of relief.