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Declan pointed. “Pink dress in the window, in a size ten, please.”
Tinkerbell looked at Declan with a gleam in her eye, but Miranda she gave the stink-eye. “Hmm, I’m not sure. Are you sure she’s a size ten? Maybe more a twelve or fourteen, and we wouldn’t carry that.”
Declan wasn’t stupid. He picked up quickly on the insult, and Miranda felt him go very still. Hoping to avoid a scene, she slipped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. Before she could speak, though, a woman came out of an open door behind the register. The woman was very tall and thin, at just under six foot, dressed in a long black dress that went well with her dark olive tone and short silver hair.
“Debbie, finish cleaning up the back while I assist here.” With a warm smile, she came forward and offered her hand to Declan and then Miranda. “I’m Beatrice, and this is my shop. Thank you so much for coming in, and I’m sorry about Debbie. There are times I would love to slap her mouth, but she’s my niece, and her mother and I have problems as it is. I can see very clearly you are indeed a ten, and I can also see why you don’t think you can wear it, but I’m telling you that you can. Let me go get the dress and I’ll be right back.”
Miranda doubted it, but eyed the dress in the window longingly. It was an off-the-shoulder dress in the softest of pinks. With her naturally light blond hair and fair complexion, it would suit her, but Miranda was certain with her 38D bust it wouldn’t look good on her at all. There was also the fact that, with her height, the skirt was rather short and would leave a lot of leg on show. While she did enjoy skirts, most of hers ended an inch or two above the knee, this would end mid-thigh.
“I can see you wanting it, my love. It’s yours.” Declan kissed her temple, and she shook her head.
“Not if it doesn’t look right it’s not.”
“Here we go, the dress, and your secret weapon. Let me guess years ago you tried a strapless bra, maybe even two, and they fit horribly and you said never again. Times have changed, my dear. Try this one on. It’s light, the material is sinfully wonderful on your skin, and you don’t feel cut in half by it. 38D, am I right?”
Miranda took the black bra and was fascinated. It seemed to be everything Beatrice said. Light with enough give, but also made of the finest materials, it no doubt cost a fortune. “Yes, you’re right.” Miranda hesitated to follow the woman toward the dressing room but didn’t have much choice, as Declan’s large, warm hand at her lower back propelled her on.
“Here you go, dear.” With a click, the door closed, and she heard Beatrice offer Declan a seat in the front and glass of wine.
Miranda unzipped her own basic black skirt with a flair and her white eyelet top and camisole underneath, with apprehension. Taking off her own bra, she made adjustments to the one Beatrice had given her before putting it on. Miracle of miracles, it felt amazingly comfortable, and she didn’t look or feel like she was coming out of it. Cautiously, she leaned over, and her breasts stayed in the bra. Pushing her luck, she was grateful for the closed door, and shook her shoulders. She was stunned, as her breasts moved easily but stayed in the bra, and her skin could still breathe.
Happy at the results, she slipped the dress over her head. The dress clung to her body in ways that before Declan would have had her shaking her head and walking away from it. But in the weeks since she had moved in with Declan, he had shown her to appreciate her body and the curves that he adored and paid homage to every day. Without a trace of vanity, she knew she was downright sexy in this dress. Before Declan that would have scared her, made her uncomfortable, but now she couldn’t wait to see Declan’s reaction.
Opening the door, she found him waiting for her. He went still and his eyes burned bright as he walked toward her very slowly. He pulled her clasped hands apart and brought them up to his chest, and his hands slid down her arms. He pressed her close to him. “You are so beautiful you make me ache. I don’t think I’m hungry for food anymore, my love, only you.”
She trembled in his arms and brought his head down to her so she could press a kiss against his lips. “Let’s go home.”
“Yes, but you leave on the dress. I want to take it off you slowly, very slowly.”
Beatrice gave them a knowing smile as she bagged the clothes Miranda had worn into the shop and gave a wave of goodbye.
Their walk home was no longer leisurely, and Miranda felt herself melting into Declan with each step. As they turned onto their street, Declan’s cell phone went off and his face clenched as he read the display. When he answered, Miranda felt a kick of anticipation. Something wasn’t right. He pulled her back to him, and although his words were clipped and few, he was tense. When he ended the call, he looked down at her fear-filled face and sighed. He dragged her with him up the stairs and into the house. When at last he closed the door behind him, he leaned against it and pulled her into his arms.
“My uncle wants me to visit. It wasn’t a request. He had Mark book a flight, I’m to leave tonight.”
“When?” It was a whisper.
“In three hours.”
“I can’t come?” She knew the answer. She had no idea where the words came from.
“No, just me.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. In the past it’s been about a week.” He sounded weary, and Miranda hated it.
“Well then, I guess we should make the three hours last.” She breathed the words into his mouth as she kissed him, and she clung to him. His grip was almost punishing
as he held her to him.
The hours passed too fast for the both of them, and Miranda was proud of herself for not clinging to him as he got out of bed. Yet she couldn’t watch as he packed a small carryon. He sat down at the edge of the bed and swept the hair from her face.
“Miranda, look at me.” She couldn’t open her eyes, terrified he’d see what she felt for him. He wiped a tear away as it slid down her cheek. “Miranda, I love you.”
Stunned, her eyes flew open and her breath caught. She couldn’t speak.
“I know it isn’t fair to leave the words on you like this, but I would like to think you had figured it out by now. I don’t want you to leave the house when I go. I want to know that you are here with Dolly to look after you. I want you to be here when I get back. It shouldn’t be long, and I’ll call you as soon as I know.” He dropped a kiss on her still-parted mouth and then he was gone.
