She snorts and glares at me, a glare fierce enough to sever my dick. “Youhave not paid your bill, and now I’m supposed to be giving you a polite reminder,” she says, straightening herself out. A polite reminder? She’s not sounding very polite right now. In fact, she’s being plain rude. “I was forced to give some spiel about you being away.”
“Consider me reminded,” I grunt, reaching for her. “Now get your arse here.”
“No.”
I’m stunned. Because I didn’t pay my bill? Truth be told, I totally forgot about the bill. That’s her fault, anyway, and now she’s punishingme? I don’t think so. Let’s get some things straight before she sends me off the deep end.
Too late, Ward.
I get off my bike, clawing through my head for the right words, words that’ll cool the heated situation. “Three...” Perfect. I’m such a cock. Seems Ava’s shocked by my choice of word too, because her chin just hit the pavement. But I’m committed now. I’m not backing down. Oh no. “Two...”
Wide eyes join her gaping mouth. Then she huffs. “I’m not getting into a row with you in the middle of Berkeley Square. You’re a child sometimes.” She’s gone faster than I can think of a comeback, marching away.Child?“One,” I bellow, going after her.
“Fuck off,” she yells over her shoulder, the sharp curse hitting me like electricity, making me twitch as I stalk after her. She’s absolutely begging for it.Begging!“You’re being unreasonable and unfair,” she calls.
I’m being unfair? I’m not the one depriving her of everything wonderful because her boss has got the hump. “Mouth!” I shout. “What’s so unreasonable about wanting to kiss you?”
“You know damn well what’s unreasonable about it. And it’s unfair because you’re trying to make me feel shitty about it.” She suddenly disappears through the door of a shop, leaving me on the pavement outside, astounded. How did we go from smiles and kisses to fucks and fury?
I need to calm the hell down. Easier said than done when she’s being so difficult. I get my face up close to the window, spotting her by a rail with a shop assistant. My eyes narrow naturally. She thinks she’s safe from dealing with me in there, does she? Wrong.
I push the door open, just as Ava pulls out a ridiculously skimpy cream dress. “You’re not wearing that,” I snap, staring at the scrap of material dangling from her hand. Over my dead fucking body. Never. Jesus, she’ll floor every man in a ten-mile radius, and if she doesn’t happen to drop them, I absolutely will.
I lift my eyes to Ava. Disgust is emblazoned all over her face. Good. Then she knows how I’m feeling. But it’s soonmyjaw sweeping the floor when she mouths, “Fuck off,” before dismissing me and turning to the assistant. She did not just do that.
“Have you anything shorter?” she asks.
Is she for fucking real? “Ava,” I growl, twitching like I’m being tasered. “Don’t push me.”
“No, I don’t think so,” the assistant says, sounding hesitant.
“Okay, I’ll take this one.” Ava hands the dress to the lady.
“Urh... is this the correct size for you?” she asks.
No, it’s fifty sizes too fucking small.
“It’s a ten?”
“It is, but I would recommend you try it on as we don’t offer refunds.”
That’s not a problem because she’s not buying the dress, but before I can advise the young woman, she’s shown Ava into the dressing room. My feet are itching to steam in there and rip that dress to shreds, and my hands are flexing, preparing to wring her fucking neck. I pace the store for a few minutes, searching for my lost control. It’s gone, mislaid, and I fear it may never be found.
The assistant appears from the fitting room, her lips straight as she slinks behind the cash desk, avoiding my accusing glare. Okay, I can pull this back. Play reasonable. Get her on side, and then think about how to deal with the dress once we’re friends again. I take a needed hit of air as I pass the cash desk, looking out the corner of my eye to the assistant, who’s fiddling with some tissue paper. “I want you to tell her it doesn’t suit her,” I say, and she swings a startled look my way. “And in return, I’ll buy all your stock.”
“Seriously?” she questions.
“Deadly.”
I leave her with that and enter the fitting room, and my eyes cross the second I clap eyes on Ava in front of the mirror, the cream silk clinging to every curve it touches, and it doesn’t touch much. “Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I murmur, my eyes glued to her long, willowy legs. My hands go to my hair. Tugs. She looks fucking incredible. A deity. My fucking savior and, dressed like this, my downfall. I take a few steps, fighting to reason with myself. She’s mine. She wants to be mine. This young, fresh beauty in a showstopper dress is in love with me. Me. Not so young. Not so fresh. Although, admittedly, I’m feeling younger and fresher these days. All her.
I look at her amused face. She’s mine, yes, and wants to be, but that won’t stop people trying to take her away from me. And in this dress, those chances are multiplied by a million.
“You’re not...” I murmur, waving a finger up and down her body, “you... you can’t...” It’s too short.Waytoo short. I’ll be up for murder. I need to make her understand, but as I look at her, defiance and willfulness etched across her beautiful face, I just know reasoning isn’t going to work. “Ava... baby...” I take another look down the dress, and my cock, the traitor, swells. “Oh, I can’t look at you.” I remove myself from the dressing room before I pass out. Or jump her. I’m hot. Suffocating.
I pass the sales assistant and glare at her, dropping my hand from the front of my jeans. “Remember?” I ask, as she disappears into the changing room to join Ava.
“The dress looks incredible,” I hear her sing, and I slap my forehead as I head for the door, needing air. But I’m slowed to a stop by a wall of shoes, in particular a pair of skyscraper stilettos. How on God’s green earth do women walk in those ankle breakers? I pluck one from the shelf and study it, mentally measuring the height of the heel. Seven inches. Seven inches! Nearly as long as my cock.