Page 90 of Courting Claudia

“Very well.”

She followed him around the aisles of fabric, and nearly bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

“This is perfect.” He held up a rich, red velvet.

“Honestly, Derrick, I’ll look like a harlot.” She reached past him a grabbed a bolt of pink silk. “This is nice.”

“Yes, lovely.” He faked a yawn. “And boring.” He grabbed hold of her hand and smoothed it across the bloodred fabric. “Do you feel that? How can you walk away from something that feels that good?”

“It does feel rather nice,” she admitted.

“And when you wear it”—he leaned in closer to whisper—“I will not be able to keep my hands off you.”

Sold. It was beyond beautiful; the bright, warm tone beckoned for a touch. It would make a glorious ball gown. Perfect for their wedding ball.

“We’re not done.” He moved through the store, then stopped and picked up a bolt of deep purple. It was silk and shimmered beneath the lights. He unrolled a portion, then slid it against the bare skin at her neck. Her nipples hardened in response. Gracious.

“What do you think?”

“I like it,” her voice came out in barely a breath.

“I like it too. I think I will especially like the way it slithers off your body.”

“You are incorrigible.”

He gave her a toothy grin. “Can’t help it. You bring out the worst in me.”

“Are you sure about all of this? Not all women can wear such daring colors.”

He turned to face her, tilted her chin so that she looked him in the eyes, and smiled. “Yes, I’m positive. Can you trust me on this?”

Could she? Perhaps everyone would think she looked like a harlot, but for all she knew, they all thought she was a harlot already. Her husband wanted her to wear bold colors; she owed it to him to do so. And truth be told, she rather liked the thought of slipping into that rich, red velvet.

“Yes, I will trust you on this.”

They continued through the store, picking fabric upon fabric, reds, greens, blues, purples in velvet, silk, cashmere, muslin. She would have an entirely new wardrobe, and none of it was pink, she thought with a smile.

He seemed so positive that she was born to stand out, as if those words were absolute fact, not merely his opinion. She’d spent her entire life trying to melt into the crowd, yet he insisted she was an original.

While the dressmaker measured her, Derrick waited patiently. She’d never known of any man who went to the dressmaker with his wife. But there he sat, a giant among the tiny feminine chairs, hard and masculine amid the soft and lacy fabrics filling the room. He’d helped her select everything: fabric, patterns, hair ribbons, and even some new fans.

The entire experience had been one of the most sensual things she’d ever done. Every color, every texture, all meant to engage the senses. Up until today, she had known nothing about dressing. And she’d learned everything from a man.

She had picked out something all her own, though. When Derrick had been going over the patterns with Madam Silver, Claudia had picked out a sheer nightgown and matching robe and had them wrapped.

Two evenings later, Claudia took one last look at herself in the mirror before heading downstairs. She’d never had a ball hosted in her honor before, and it was both flattering and nerve-wracking. But Derrick’s aunt had insisted. She’d said it would stop the gossips who were still twittering about their sudden nuptials.

She smoothed her hand along the red velvet bodice, loving the feel of the plush softness, then started down the stairs. For the first time in her life, she realized, she felt pretty. Beautiful, even. She tilted her chin and smiled as she descended the rest of the way to the first floor.

Her husband stood at the base of the stairs looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him. She hadn’t thought that a possibility. But there he stood, dressed from head to toe in black, with the exception of his white shirt. He arched one eyebrow, and a sensual grin slid into place. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

No other man had ever affected her the way Derrick did. She supposed that was how it should be between a husband and wife. But oh, how she wished there was more between them.

Love. Claudia wanted love. Her beloved friend Poppy had her heart broken, and she selfishly wanted more from her otherwise happy marriage.

She reached him, and he leaned down to place a hot kiss at her throat.

“You look stunning, as I knew you would in that dress. We might have to disappoint our guests and disappear for a while.”

---