Beautiful in My Eyes (14 page)

Covering my mouth, I drop to the bench and cry.

“Giselle,” Julian calls softly, “
Swee'heart
, would ye open the door?”

“I can’t,” I answer with a muffled cry.

“Please,
darlin
', tis okay. I ken ye lost more, but it
doesnae
matter ta me. Ye are still the most bonnie lass I
hav
' ever seen. An' ye will
alwa's
be beautiful ta me no matter
wha
'. I know I keep
repeatin
'
masel
', but ye
hav
' ta believe me.”

Hearing the emotion in his voice, I take another look at my reflection. There are small patches of dark hair left here and there.  Heaving a resigned sigh, I wipe my face.

You will get through this. And this too shall
pass.
I get up and walk to the door.

“Julian?”

“Aye, honey.

“Would you do something for me?”

“
Anythin
',
darlin
'.”

Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door, a few more tears trailing down my cheeks. “Would you give me a haircut?” I slowly smile.

Julian pulls me into his arms
, both
laughing and crying, raining kisses all over my face. “Aye. I would be glad ta
giv
' ye a haircut.”

Five minutes later, he stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders as I examine my reflection. “So
wha
' do ye thin'?”

I hesitate, turning my head from left to right, and then smile. “I thin' ye took a bit too much o the top.”

Laughing, he kneels beside me and holds me close. “
Och
, how I love ye,
mo
nighean
donn
.”

“And I love you. Thank you, Julian.”

“For
wha
'?”

“For being so good to me.”

“Tis a privilege ta be able ta love ye, angel.” He stands, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror, the burning passion in his gaze heating me to the core. “Now,
forgiv
' me,
darlin
', but I'm
aboot
ta take ye back ta bed for a wee bit an'
hav
' ma way with ye. All right?”

I stand and turn to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and bury my fingers in his hair. “Aye. And you are definitely forgiven.”

Chapter 14

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

John Keats

I
am beautiful. My hair does not make me. I am an amazing person with so much going for me. My husband
loves  and
adores me and thinks I'm bonnie. That is all that matters.

S
itting at a vanity in the wig shop, I mentally repeat these affirmations and try on several wigs in various styles, but I am not happy with any of them. Of course, Julian tells me I look beautiful in each one and I tell him he's no help. He agrees and kisses my cheek. The sales woman brings in a few more styles for me to try. One of the wigs is very similar to my natural
hair style
. The silky black
ringlets fall just past my shoulders and feels
soft and luxurious. Julian whistles and my decision is made. I buy three of the style–two black and
one auburn
. And as we leave the shop, I feel more beautiful than I have in a long time.

Julian decides to take me shopping so we head to the mall. Opening my car door, he takes my hand as I get out, keeping it in his as we move from store to store. We pick out a wedding gift for Dad and Cassie. Then I peruse the lingerie section in a department store and pick out Cassie's shower gift.

“I
cannae
wait ta see ye in
tha
',” Julian says, growling in my ear.

“Oh, I'll bet, but it’s not for me,” I say, blushing. “It’s for Cassie.”

He heaves a disappointed sigh. “If ye wan', I can hold
yer
place in line while ye go an' get another one for
yersel
'.” He flashes a sexy mischievous grin.

“You mean for
you
,” I tease and he nods.

“Oh, aye.” He marches over and picks out one for me, placing it on the counter with the other. I just shake my head and smile. The cashier smiles as well and rings up our purchases. It isn't hard to guess what she's thinking.

“I need to stop in one more place,” I say as we exit the store.

“Now, let me guess where
yer
goin
' next.” Julian rubs his chin like he is deep in thought. “Ah! The bookstore.”

“How did you know?” I tease.

“Just luck.”

“Makes me wonder if you have that leprechaun stowed away somewhere.”

“
Och
, he's long
gon
' now. I
gav
' him a couple o bottles of whiskey from the pub an' I
havnae
seen him since.”

Tsk, tsk, tsk. Nothing worse than a drunken leprechaun.”

He grins. “Tell me
aboot
it.”

Our bookstore is at the opposite end of the mall. The outside entrance is convenient, especially for parents bringing their children in for story time.

“
Weel
, why don' ye let me take the bags
oot
ta the car, an' while
yer
browsin
' the books, I'll check
oot
another store for a bit.”

“Sounds good. Give me about half an hour?”

“Sure. I'll plant
masel
' on the bench
oot
here by the kiosk.” He kisses me and we hurry our separate ways.

“Good to see you, Giselle,” Shawn, our young employee says as he finishes ringing up my books and puts them in a bag.