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Lucy climbed to her feet on shaking legs. “Give me a few minutes to change.”
“Sure.”
She retreated to her bedroom and threw on a pair of leggings and one of her knitted sweaters. It felt too comfortable, but as he’d been quick to point out before, this wasn’t about seduction. If he wanted her to dress the part, he would request it so he could help her strike the right note. She closed her bedroom door behind her and made her way back into the main room. “I need to go shopping.”
“This instant?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course not.” Her laugh felt forced, mostly because it was. Lucy pulled a newly purchased bottle of wine out of her cabinet and took out two glasses. “Wine?”
“Yeah.”
She poured them, still not looking at him. “The date with Mark was nice enough, but I think it’s best I meet the rest of your list. That said, I’d like to be as prepared as possible, and I think I mentioned before that I have nothing in the way of seduction clothing.”
Gideon snorted. “You are seduction enough, Lucy.”
He didn’t get it. But then, she didn’t expect him to. She turned and offered his glass then took a sip of her own. “This may sound strange, but I dress well.”
“I noticed.”
She ignored that. “Walking out to face a judge or jury—or both—is terrifying. It’s exhilarating, too, but taking that first step is like jumping out of a plane and hoping you remembered your parachute. Or, more accurately maybe, it’s like stepping onto the dueling grounds and hoping like hell you prepared your weapons and they won’t malfunction. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s what it feels like for me. My clothing is both armor and weapons combined. It allows me to take that first step without fear crippling me. I’m going to need that in the bedroom, as well.”
There. He might laugh in her face, but at least she was being honest.
Gideon didn’t laugh. He studied her with those dark eyes, mulling over what she said and the implications behind it, no doubt. She’d revealed far more of herself in that little tidbit than she had in a long while. Becka knew, of course—she was the one Lucy always dragged along on her shopping trips—but everyone at the office assumed that Lucy was just extremely into fashion and expensive clothing.
Finally he took a drink of his wine. “Do you have free time next weekend?”
Next weekend? It was Thursday. “That’s eight days from now.”
“I’m more than capable of counting, Lucy.” He set the glass down. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet Aaron Livingston at the weekly event Roman puts together. I’ll be out of town most of next week meeting with several potential fits for a client.”
Disappointment soured her stomach but she did her best not to show it. Of course Gideon wasn’t exclusively focused on her predicament. From what she remembered, he usually had multiple clients at any given time and there was no reason to expect to be the exception to the rule.
It also meant almost a full week that she wouldn’t see him.
No lessons for seven days.
Stop it.
She managed a smile. “I’m free next weekend, aside from a lunch date with Becka.”
“We’ll go shopping afterward.”
Which would give her a chance to imbibe enough alcohol to feel a little fearless at the thought of picking lingerie with Gideon. Lucy wasn’t feeling anything resembling fearless at the moment. She swallowed hard. “Okay.”
His gaze sharpened on her face. “Tomorrow, wear something appropriate.”
Just like that, her nerves disappeared. She drew herself up straight. “Excuse me?”
“You know damn well that you were playing with fire with that dress tonight. I don’t know how the fuck Mark kept his hands to himself, but it’s a small miracle. No other man would.”
Meaning he wouldn’t, which he’d more than proved by walking through the door and ravishing her right there in her living room. I did a bit of ravishing myself.
That wasn’t what they were discussing, though, and she didn’t appreciate his attitude. The whole point of this was to market her—for lack of a better word—to these men, and he was acting like she’d been out of line. It wasn’t a dress she would have worn for work, but it was a far cry from indecent. He was acting like she’d shown up in a minidress with all her goods on display. Lucy glared. “I’ll wear whatever I please.”
“Wrong. You’ll wear something that doesn’t project sex.”
“You can’t be serious.” She threw up a hand. “I am more than capable of dressing myself. The lingerie excepting, I don’t need or want your opinion.”
Gideon set the wineglass down and advanced on her, a forbidding expression on his handsome face. A muscle in his jaw jumped and her stomach leaped in response. He stopped mere inches away. “You wear some shit like you wore tonight and you won’t like the results.”
