Page 21 of The Woman

And yet . . .

“Wait here.” I don’t know why, but I decide to go and grab the red one in the size I think will fit best and then bring it back for her to try on. “Try this one as well.”

Nodding, she goes back into the dressing room. The next time she comes out, she runs her hands down the fabric, feeling it for a moment before looking at me to see what I think. I trail my eyes over her body, lingering on the parts that cling a little tighter. It fits her perfectly, and I can’t argue that it’s not a better choice.

My eyes flick up to her face, and instead of the emotionless stare from before, she almost seems . . . delighted. That right there is what keeps my mind running in circles. Not two seconds ago, she had no opinion, and now she likes this one, and I can’t make sense of it.

I watch as she pulls her hair back and over one shoulder, and suddenly, opinion or no opinion, it doesn’t matter because with her hair moved aside, there is a clear view of a purple bruise on the side of her neck. A mark caused by me. That same primal urge flairs to life inside of me as I remember the feel and taste of her skin.

“Go put your other clothes on,” I rasp, turning away from her. “We’ll take that one.”

I can’t help my body’s reaction to hers, but I can help the way I react to that reaction.

The aged man finds us again as we head for the counter. “A beautiful choice. Now, do you have shoes for her to wear with it?”

I think back to the ones I picked out for her and realize none of them will be good enough to wear with the dress.

Come to think of it, the sizes of the ones I bought her could be just as wrong as the clothing. I glance down at her feet and see that she has on a pair of sandals that seem to fit okay. At least I know one pair fits her.

“I can show you a selection,” George adds, apparently figuring we don’t have any to go with it. “Take a seat right there, and I’ll be right back.” He motions to some chairs nearby and then walks off.

Avery perches on the edge of a seat, but I remain standing until he returns with four different boxes. After opening each one and revealing two black, one silver, and one red pair of heels, he sets them on the floor and tells me there are two other items he wants to bring out for me. I watch Avery for a moment as she looks between the pairs, maybe waiting to catch her lingering on one of them. She doesn’t.

Maneuvering her weight, she leans forward to take off her sandals, but I stop her with a touch to her shoulder.

“I’ll do it.”

After glancing up at me, her chin dips once in acknowledgment. I drop to my knees and lift a dainty foot into my lap, slowly undoing the strap of her sandal and sliding it off. My fingers graze against her soft, creamy skin as I go. I repeat the process on her other foot, then reach for one of the black heels and then the silver heel for the opposite foot.

I’ve never seen shoes like this before that I can recall. If someone’s woman was wearing them in my presence, I never cared enough to pay attention to them. But there is something incredibly appealing about the way the foot curves to fit the shape of the shoe, the slim heel, and the delicate straps.

When I realize my fingers are lingering, I pull back and get to my feet.

“Stand up. Let me see.”

She pushes to her feet, and with the heels on, the top of her head reaches closer to my nose. She stands tall and steady on the five inches, so she’s probably worn heels before. Perhaps as part of training at the facility. I gesture for her to walk around the immediate area while my gaze sweeps over her, trying to picture her in the red dress and see which one will match better.

“Sir, I have this necklace I think will go beautifully.” George’s voice brings my focus back, and I realize I got lost in thought, staring at Avery’s legs. “I also brought this. It’s called lipstick. Some men like their women wearing it on their lips to these events. This red will match her dress.”

I stare down at the tube he’s holding, a brow raised in curiosity. I’ve seen colored lips before on other females, but never this color red. I imagine it would go rather well with her dress and blonde hair. In his other hand is a black velvet tray with a sparkling necklace. I don’t bother taking a closer look.

“We’ll take them,” I tell him.

“Very good, sir. And the shoes?”

I glance back at Avery, now standing there, waiting for instructions. “We’ll take them, too.”

“Yes, but which ones?”

“All of them.”

Chapter 11

I fiddle with my bow tie in the foyer mirror while waiting for Avery to come out of her bedroom. I sent her to get ready what feels like hours ago, but it probably hasn’t been anywhere near that long. The car, however, is already downstairs waiting for us, and I’m getting impatient. I’m considering going and pounding on her door when she finally appears from around the corner.

My hands drop from their task as I watch her approach, my body heating up as I sweep my gaze over every dip and curve. Every step she takes has her legs peeking through the slits on either side.

Somehow, the dress looks even better on her now than it did in the store. I continue my trek up to the thin straps that wrap over her shoulders, to her curled hair, and then to her face. She has that deep red lipstick on, making her already full lips seem bigger, almost bee-stung. They draw me in, making me want a taste.

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