Part 23 (2/2)
He grinned beatifically.
In the master suite, she cleaned up then dressed again before slipping into sandals.
He dressed in khakis and a golf s.h.i.+rt with the Donovan Worldwide logo on it.
”I'm not sure whether you look like we're going on a yacht or whether you're going to quote a moving job for someone.”
”I'm warning you, Lara,” he said. But he shook his head. ”You know, maybe it's not a bad idea. We should have Nathan look at acquiring a moving company. You can be our first client and make Mrs. Fuhrman look like a psychic.”
”I'm not moving.”
”Soaker tub,” he said, adjusting his collar in the mirror.
She met his gaze in the gla.s.s. His eyes were frosty, serious. Mesmerizing.
”I've already told you I intend to have your total submissive surrender. I will do anything to ensure I get it.”
Chapter Eight.
”Try it on.”
”It will barely cover my a.s.s,” Lara protested.
”My point entirely.” He smiled. ”Don't make me repeat myself.”
She walked over to a nearby mirror and held the tiny dress in front of her.
It was black, clingy, plunging, skimpy. The triumvirate of c.o.c.k-swelling perfection.
”You've got to be kidding me.”
He merely lifted an eyebrow.
”Connor, there's no way that this will work for me.”
He said nothing. Over the years, he'd found that to be a solid technique. But with her, it was even more effective. She sorted through options quicker than average people. In his experience, she arrived at the right decisions.
”Fine.” She turned back to face him. ”I'll try it on, but I'm already telling you it will look terrible. My b.u.t.t...”
”A lot of women would pay for a world-cla.s.s behind like that.”
”I think you're just h.o.r.n.y.”
”You've got me there. Doesn't mean I'm wrong, though.”
”I want a couple of other things, too.”
”That's fine.” He moved to another section of the rack.
”You could sit on that chair over there. It's for aggrieved husbands and...friends.” She pointed to a plush chair cleverly situated near some jewelry.
”Which I'm neither. I'm a highly s.e.xed almost-fiance. They help with the shopping.”
”Is it possible for you to be more annoying?”
”Lara, darling, I haven't started yet.” He selected a slinky thing in red. ”Reminds me of your suit that first day.”
”It's nothing like it,” she protested.
”I want to see it on you.”
She glowered but accepted the garment. Then she went to a rack and picked out something that looked like it would hit her below the knee. It was a putrid light brown. ”My future wife is not wearing puce.”
”It's taupe.”
He said nothing.
With a sigh, she returned it and pulled out a purple dress that was more than adequate for the office. It was sleeveless and had a square neckline. In short it was cla.s.sy and elegant, her signature style. No doubt it was also figure flattering. ”You can have that in addition to something else. That will be good for tomorrow's gathering with my family.”
”I can't afford two new dresses,” she protested.
”You don't need to.”
”You're not buying my clothes.”
”Then maybe you can arrange for some overtime at the office. Or just buy one.”
The clerk who'd just finished ringing up a sale came over. ”Can I start a dressing room for you?”
”Thank you.” Lara gave the three outfits to the woman.
The clerk unlocked a wooden door, hung up the dresses, then said, ”Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
After Lara promised to do so, the clerk wandered off to greet a new customer.
”Go ahead and try them on,” he encouraged. Unless you want to buy new shoes as well, the black is probably the best choice.” Those red heels with that dress? He wondered if he'd survive it. ”And we do have reservations.”
She entered the dressing room and closed the door. Since it didn't go all the way to the floor, he saw her place her purse on the carpet. Next he heard the sound of her pulling off her dress. He gave her about sixty seconds before saying, ”Show me.”
A few seconds later, she did. She'd put on the purple dress. As always, she knew exactly what was right for her. ”Elegant.” He'd be so d.a.m.n proud to have her at his side as his bride and partner.
She surveyed herself critically in the mirror, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. ”I love it,” she said.
A few minutes later, she returned wearing the red dress. ”I don't like it,” she said.
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