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Vincent touched his hat in response. Alexi gave him a nod that was reciprocated in like fashion.
Inside the mall, the noise of families, excited shoppers, and shoes against marble tile was accompanied by a visual assault of end of summer sale window displays. Everything competed for their attention. This was going to be so much fun. The mall was awesome, and finding the right thing for him would be easy. There was such a large selection here, such a range of products, he’d be the best-dressed guy in her class. They’d hit the small shops, and then the department stores. Mia’s heart rate and steps picked up.
Alexi’s slowed. His gaze shifted around, his expression reluctant.
Sigh. Guys and shopping. He was about to bolt back outside. She could see it in his posture, and his glances flitting back to the exit. “Just one store?”
His mouth twisted, and he nodded.
She led him to a trendy place. He only needed a few key pieces. She could supplement them with whatever clothes he had brought. The servants had carried in a ton of bags; there had to be something good in them.
Alexi fidgeted while she filtered through the racks. When she’d hold up an item to force an opinion, she’d get a shrug of okay or an adamant head shake. Zero enthusiasm. “Just try on a few. I’ll shop for more without you later.” Mia shoved him toward the dressing room. “It’s like you’ve never been shopping before. Don’t you have malls in England?”
“Of course. But clothes usually are delivered and tailored. I don’t go to a shopping mall.”
Spoiled. She thought of Kristnaldo’s tendency toward fedoras. Alexi needed this, even if he didn’t know it. “Trust me.” She gave him another small push. “You can’t wear lederhosen here.”
“I’m not German.” With that, he disappeared through the door.
Mia went back to the racks to dig for more clothes.
In a far shorter time than it would’ve taken her, Alexi emerged in a Texan’s T-shirt. He was built beautifully, with broad shoulders and lean hips. Nice. Mia forced her gaze away. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Alexi was too attractive.
“American enough?” He peered down at the logo and shook his head. “American football.”
He looked gorgeous. Mia used the opportunity to walk around him and lightly touch the cotton shirt. Stop it. No pawing the potential future new relative. Mia lowered her hand, though she didn’t want to. Alexi turned toward her hand as if he missed it. The blue of the T-shirt brought out the stormy blue in his mostly gray eyes. If anything, the color made him even more stunning. How was that even possible? “Yep, you’ll do. This way you can keep the foreign thing under wraps unless you want to use it.”
“Use it?”
“Yeah, you know, pick up someone with it.” Mia lowered her voice and spoke in a heavy accent, one nothing like Alexi’s accent. “I am Alexi from Sweden, is that your room?” She threw in some foreign hand waving. “Oh, how confusing your American customs are. You must teach me. Shall I take off my shoes?” She ended with a leer.
“I’m not Swedish. Shoe removal, huh? Will that work on you? You’ll show me your shoe collection?” Alexi reached for her arm.
She slapped his hand away. “Nope, your tricks won’t work on me. I’m not sitting across the table from you for the next fifty years after you’ve seen my shoes.”
“Fifty years? You’re confident Niko and Hope will stay together.” Alexi reached for the hem of the shirt and raised it on his return to the dressing room, giving a glimpse of his cut abs. His skin looked tan, lean, and warm.
But his attitude had an edge of cold and cynical. Did they teach that in rich kid boarding school? He’d learn. Hope and Niko were the real deal. “They’re in love.”
He tossed her the T-shirt without responding. Mia added two others, and went up to the register.
As they left the store, Mia saw it…a toiletry and cologne kiosk. While he smelled amazing now, who knew what habits he’d brought with him? She pointed. Alexi followed the path of her finger and shook his head. Mia bit her lip. Not good. Did toiletries repel him?
Alexi turned toward the exit. “You said one store. That was one store. We’ve finished.”
“Well, that’s not a full store; it’s a kiosk. Remember when we were texting, and you said that drive-through fast-food places don’t count as restaurants?”
“They don’t. There should be standards for meals. Cooks can’t just lift something from a deep fat fryer, and call it a—”
Knowing his views well, she held up her hands. He’d texted for two days on this topic. “Well, a kiosk is like a drive-through. You can’t count it as a store.”
“Mia.” His voice wavered
as he lost to his own logic.
“Please, please, just try a few.”
He sent her a sideways look and walked over to lift a perfume bottle. After sniffing it, Alexi sneered at the fragrance. He pointed to the glass shielding the expensive bottles.
