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My head snaps up. ‘One dress, Jesse, you owe me one dress.’ I remind him. He shrugs, completely ignoring me. ‘One dress.’ I affirm.
‘Lots of dresses.’ he says to himself.
Oh no! He is not buying my clothes. I’ve had one shopping experience with him, and he nearly had an epileptic fit over the length of my dress. Yes, I only bought the stupidly expensive thing in a childish revenge fit, but the point is; he thought he could dictate what I wear. He wants to buy my clothes so he can choose them.
‘You are not buying my clothes!’ I say with all the disgust I truly feel.
He looks at me like I’ve just grown another head. ‘I f**king am!’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘Ava, this is not up for discussion. End of.’ He removes his hand from my knee to change gear.
‘No, you’re right, it’s not. I buy my own clothes.’ I turn Oasis up to drown out any counter attack. I’m not budging on this. I will buy my own clothes. End of!
We travel the rest of the way with only Oasis filling the silence. I catch him chewing his bottom lip and the cogs are turning so fast I can almost hear them. I smile because if we were not in public, I would be having a sense f**k right about now. Instead, though, he’s thinking about how else he can go about getting his way.
He parks up then turns to face me. ‘I have a proposition for you.’ he tells me confidently.
Ah, the cogs at work. I’ve no doubt the end result of this proposition will be Jesse getting his own way. ‘I’m not bargaining with you and there is no scope for a sense f**k here, is there?’ I say smugly, getting out of the car.
Jesse jumps out and walks around the car to join me on the pavement. He narrows his eyes on me. ‘Mouth! You already owe me a retribution f**k.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes, another for your little performance at breakfast.’ he reminds me.
I knew I wouldn’t get away with it. ‘I don’t care what you propose. You’re not buying my clothes.’ I say haughtily. Jesse’s comment about only wearing dresses springs to mind. He was serious, no doubt.
‘You’ve not even heard me out,’ he complains. ‘You’ll like what I’m going to propose.’ He grins. His confident persona is back, and I’m intrigued. I study him for a second and his grin widens. He knows he’s got my attention.
‘What?’ I ask. What’s he going to entice me with?
His eyes twinkle in satisfaction. ‘You let me spoil you,’ He tips his finger under my chin to shut my mouth when I try to object. ‘And I will tell you how old I am.’ He lowers his mouth to mine and seals his deal with a deep kiss.
What?
I allow him to kiss all of my obstinacy right out of me on the busy London pavement. Once again, I’m completely and utterly taken by this man, who lays one finger on me and renders me easy. He moans into my mouth as he tips me back, holding me suspended in his arms.
‘I know how old you are.’ I say against his lips.
He pulls back and gazes down at me. ‘Do you?’
I gape at him. ‘You lied?’ He’s not thirty seven? How old is he then? Bloody hell, is he older? ‘Tell me.’ I demand on a scowl.
‘Oh no. Spoil first, age confession later. You might turn me over. I know my beautiful girl can play dirty.’ He grins and returns me to a standing position.
‘I won’t,’ I scoff. I will! ‘I can’t believe you lied to me.’
He gives me an inquiring eye. ‘I can’t believe you handcuffed me to the bed.’
No, I can’t believe I did that either, but it seems the whole episode was fruitless, after all. He takes my hand and leads me across the road and into the store.
Chapter 18
My eyes are immediately blessed with masses of drool worthy handbags, but I’m not given the opportunity to look. He walks with purpose and meaning as he drags me along behind him and when we get in the elevator, he presses the button for the first floor. I scan the store guide.
‘Hey, I want the fourth floor.’ I would like to avoid the international collections of the first floor. They scream expensive, but he completely ignores me. ‘Jesse?’ I look at him and find his face is completely impassive as he keeps a firm grip of my hand. The elevator door opens and I’m pulled out behind him.
‘This way.’ he says, pulling me through the incredible displays of designer clothes and couture gowns. I’m glad he’s bypassing those.
Oh no!
My heart sinks when I spot the sign for Personal Shopping. ‘No, Jesse, no no no,’ I try to stop him, but he presses forward, pulling me towards the entrance of the department. ‘Jesse, please.’ I plead, but again, he completely ignores me.
I want to kick him in the shins. I hate fuss and attention in stores. They kiss your arse and tell you everything looks fabulous and the whole thing makes you feel like you have to buy something. The pressure will be immense, and I dare not even think about the cost.
‘I have an appointment with Zoe.’ he advises the smart, suited and booted chap who greets us. Why did he ask me where we were heading if he already knew? I want to wring his neck.
‘Mr Ward?’ The assistant asks.
‘Yes.’ Jesse says, still refusing to look at me, even though he knows damn well I’m scowling heavily at him and I’m mighty uncomfortable with this.
‘Please, this way. Can I get you any drinks? Champagne, perhaps?’ he asks politely.
Jesse looks at me, and I shake my head. I want to cut and run straight to House of Fraser, where I can shop in peace with a can of coke and with minimum fuss.
