Love Left Behind (46 page)

"Okay," I
relented. "But no private appointments. Let's just shop like we're normal
people." On that note, I glanced at his outfit. He was wearing his
standard casual outfit, jeans and a well-worn t-shirt, but I frowned at his
bare head. "Shouldn't you wear a cap? Do you have sunglasses with you?
Everyone will recognize you."

Jackson leaned down and
gave me a quick kiss, obviously pleased that I had capitulated. "I don't
care if people recognize me. I'm tired of living my life hiding behind baseball
caps and sunglasses. I'm shopping with my girlfriend today and I don't care who
sees it. You forget I'm not the only one who will be recognized now."

My pulse quickened at
Jackson's use of the term girlfriend and I decided if Jackson was okay with
being recognized, I was fine with it as well. Besides, if I wanted a future
with Jackson, I had to get used to him being a public figure. I doubted people
would actually recognize me on my own, but standing next to Jackson was a dead
giveaway.

Craig was waiting for
us downstairs and I couldn't help feeling bad that he had to spend so much of
his time just waiting around to see where our whims took us. He double-parked
when we got to the shopping district of Fifth Avenue, taking his usual position
of leaning against the side of the car looking foreboding. I felt sorry for the
police officer that would try to give him a ticket.

Even though I insisted
on no private appointments, Jackson had still called Sherry for advice about
which stores to go to. Apparently, she was a clotheshorse with impeccable taste
and I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. I pushed the unwelcome
feeling of jealousy aside. I was going to trust Jackson until he gave me a
reason to be suspicious.

"Sherry highly
recommended Ferragamo. Do you like that designer?"

"Sure, when I see
it on the runways on television. Isn't it really expensive?"

The corners of
Jackson's lips turned down. "Remember, no looking at price tags. Just
choose what you like and try it on. Otherwise, I'll do the choosing."

I sighed at Jackson's
autocratic manner but didn't comment. Most girls would be flattered that their
boyfriend wanted to spare no expense when shopping, but most girls didn't have
the world thinking they were money-grubbing opportunists.

I let Jackson guide me
into the store and we were instantly transported from the loud crowd of Fifth
Avenue into a hushed mecca of fashion. There were a few customers milling
around but I noticed the salespeople outnumbered them.

A tall saleswoman with
thick blonde hair slicked back into a chignon, dressed in shades of grey and
dripping with silver jewelry, sauntered over to us and I couldn't help but
notice her gaze sweep over my jeans and white blouse that billowed loosely
around my waist. I had thought I looked casually chic when I left the apartment
but next to this beautiful Amazon woman, I felt inadequate. At least her gaze
was kind, if a little bemused.

"Hello. Can I help
you?"

It was almost comical
the way her expression changed as her gaze drifted to Jackson. Her eyes widened
and her lips slightly parted in recognition. To her credit, she recovered
quickly and shifted her gaze back to me, as if she was afraid to be caught gawking
at Jackson. I couldn't help but notice her eyes narrow as she studied me, and I
saw a flare of recognition in her eyes.

"I'm looking for
an evening dress for a party."

"Of course,"
she replied, and I was impressed by her even tone. "How formal of a dress
are you looking for?"

I bit my lip, glancing
up at Jackson. I wasn't sure how formal a launch party for a lounge would be,
especially one that was bound to be celebrity-studded. Jackson answered for me
when he saw me hesitate.

"Pretty
formal." Jackson glanced down at me, his gaze softening. "Do you want
to just look around first?"

I nodded, smiling
pleasantly at the saleswoman. "I'll let you know if I need anything."

She nodded and faded
into the background, as proficient salespeople do in high-end stores. Jackson
and I wandered over to the women's section and I was amused by how sparse the
offerings were. I was used to racks of clothes filled with different sizes and
styles but at Ferragamo, each pedestal showed off one piece of clothing.

I immediately
gravitated towards a black dress that was much more risqué than anything I had
ever worn. It was black and sleeveless with a plunging neckline that was only a
few inches above the waistline. A black belt cinched the middle, the rest of
the dress draping down and hitting above the knee.

"Do you like
it?"

I turned to Jackson, a
half-smile on my face. "Well, it's certainly not like anything I've ever
worn before."

"Try it on,"
he urged. "Why don't you grab a few dresses and put on a fashion show for
me. It's been a while since I've been able to ogle you while you try on
clothes."

I couldn't help
laughing at Jackson's lascivious expression, and I was happy to oblige. The
only problem was that all the dresses hanging in the store were size zeroes. I
turned to look for the blonde salesperson and she was instantly at my side.

"Did you need
something?"

I blinked, a little
startled at her sudden appearance, but I just nodded towards the black dress.
"I wanted to try that on, but it's not my size."

"We keep all the
sizes in the back. Just tell me which dresses you want to try on and I'll be
happy to get your size for you." Her eyes assessed me as they swept over
me. "A four or six?"

"A six," I
answered, although I was worried that these designer clothes were made for twigs
and I wouldn't be able to fit into my normal size. I decided not to dwell on
it. If I had to wear a bigger size, I would wear a bigger size. I was happy
with my figure and Jackson didn't seem to have any complaints.

Jackson trailed behind
us as I pointed out the dresses I wanted to try on. I noticed furtive glances
in our direction from the other salespeople as well as the handful of customers
milling in the store. I heard two Japanese women speaking rapidly to each other
in their native language and I gulped when I not only heard "Jackson
Reynard" in the mix of Japanese, but also "Emma Mills."

After I had chosen my
dresses, the saleswoman, who had introduced herself as Corinne, ushered me into
a dressing room that was as big as my living room. The fact that it was better
furnished than my living room didn't pass my notice.

"Would you like
anything to drink? A glass of champagne?"

I shook my head,
wondering if you were always offered refreshments at expensive stores. I
couldn't help but laugh at the image that popped into my head of myself
drinking a glass of champagne while trying on jeans in the tiny cubicle of a
dressing room at Old Navy.

"What's so
funny?" Jackson asked as he stepped inside.

"Jackson! You
can't come in here!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a
women's
dressing room!" I didn't
want to explain that I was horrified at the thought of Jackson watching me
struggle into a too-small dress. There needed to be some mystique in our
relationship.

"It's not like
bathrooms where only one sex is allowed," Jackson said, looking amused.

"But...but, I need
my privacy," I sputtered. "I don't want you watching me dress."

Jackson raised a
quizzical eyebrow. "I'd say we're beyond modesty at this point. There's
not an inch of your body I'm not intimately acquainted with."

"That's
different."

Jackson sighed but he
pointed to a curtain that was tucked away in a crevice in the wall. I hadn't
noticed the curtain and saw that there was a curving rod that would give me
complete privacy if pulled across, a sofa on the other side where Jackson could
wait. I wondered how Jackson knew that curtain was even there. It would be easy
to miss unless you were looking for it. My thoughts drifted to how many women
Jackson had waited on while they tried on clothes for him, but I pushed those
thoughts away. Jackson was with me now and that's all that mattered.

Corinne came back with
the dresses I had chosen in my size. She pointed to a button next to the mirror
after she had hung them on a rod. "Just press this if you need me."
She discreetly left the dressing room and I wondered if she thought we were
going to get hot and heavy in here. It was an intriguing thought, but I had
more pressing matters to attend to.

"No peeking,"
I warned ominously as I pulled the curtain across the room. Jackson sighed
dramatically but nodded his head.

I had chosen five
dresses, including the black one I had seen first, but I decided to save that
one for last. I was relieved when I slipped easily into the first dress I tried
on and was able to zip up the back with some finagling. I studied myself in the
mirror, a little scandalized that I looked almost naked. The dress was made out
of white lace with a nude sheath underneath, giving the illusion that I was
showing bare skin through the eyelets of the lace. The neckline plunged down
low and wide so that the edges of my areolas were nearly showing. I tried in
vain to pull the edges of the neckline up, but the dress fit me snugly and
wouldn't budge. I pulled the curtain open a bit and peeked my head out at
Jackson.

"I can't wear this
dress in public! I look naked!"

Jackson shot up at my
description, pulling the curtain aside, his eyes smoldering as he looked down
at me. "Christ, I can see your tits." He hooked one finger over the
edge of the neckline, pulling it down so that one of my nipples popped out. I
felt goose bumps rising as he brushed the back of his finger that was still
hooked over my neckline across my tight bud that had hardened beneath his
perusal.

"Behave!" I
said laughing, slapping his hand away. "I don't think Corinne would
appreciate us humping like animals in here. Especially in this dress. They
probably have a 'you stain it, you buy it' policy here."

Jackson raised his
hands in innocence. "I was just helping you out. You wouldn't want to wear
a dress where your nipples popped out for everyone to see." His gaze
darkened. "Maybe you should get that dress to wear in private. For my
enjoyment."

"That means no to
this dress," I said lightly, stepping back and closing the curtain. I had
looked at the price tag before trying it on, and there was no way I was letting
Jackson spend $3,000 on a dress that would never see the light of the day.

I liked the next three
dresses I tried on, Jackson weighing in his enthusiastic approval as well, but
the minute I slipped on the black dress, I knew it was the one. It fit me like
a second skin, the soft black fabric clinging to my hips, the belt emphasizing
my narrow waist. But what really made the dress was the neckline. The smooth
expanse of my skin between my breasts and halfway down my stomach was
provocatively bare, the deep but narrow vee making my neck look even longer and
my collarbone more pronounced. I was wearing my diamond pendant and it
glittered against my chest, a simple accessory for a deceptively simple yet
complex dress. I looked like a different woman in this dress. Dangerous and
sensual, a woman who had no problems showing off her sexuality.

I slid the curtain
open, turning around in the dress for Jackson. "Is it too much?"

Jackson gazed at me
from the sofa, his bland expression turning intense. "Yes, in every good
way possible. Too beautiful. Too sexy. Too damned irresistible. You're lucky
we're in public, otherwise I'd be peeling that dress off you right now."

I felt pleasure
flooding through me at Jackson's open approval, but I frowned when I lifted the
price tag hanging off the belt. I had been too excited to try on the dress to
look at the price tag beforehand, but now I was dismayed at the price.

"What's
wrong?"

"This dress is
over $5,000! I mean, as much as I like this dress, how can they charge that
much! Was it handmade by a group of monks in a monastery in the Netherlands?
Even that wouldn't justify the price. It's highway robbery!"

Jackson grinned at my
outraged expression. He walked over to me, kissing me lightly on the forehead.
His gaze became tender as he touched the diamond pendant against my chest.
"It's well worth the price if it makes you happy. Actually, it's well
worth the price because it makes
me
happy."

"Are you
sure?" I asked uncertainly. "Even though it's not my money, it
doesn't feel right spending so much on one dress."

"You have no
choice in the matter," Jackson said simply. "I know you like the
dress so I'm going to buy it. The only thing worse than buying a $5,000 dress
is buying a $5,000 dress and not wearing it."

I told myself I would
wear this dress every chance I got to justify the expense. I had the ridiculous
image of myself going grocery shopping in this dress.

Jackson pressed the
button to summon Corinne and she appeared in a matter of seconds. I couldn't
help wondering if she had been standing outside the door with her ear pressed
up against it. She beamed when she saw me in the dress.

"You look amazing
in that dress. It looks like it was made for you."

"We'll take
it," Jackson said.

"How about
shoes?"

Jackson turned to me at
Corinne's question. "Do you have shoes to wear with the dress?"

I nodded vigorously,
not wanting Jackson to spend even more money. I was still recovering from the
$5,000 dress. Jackson gazed at me speculatively and then turned back to
Corinne. "Can you bring in some shoes that you think would go with the
dress?"

Corinne nodded eagerly
and I saw the dollar signs of a fat commission floating above her head.
"How about a clutch? And jewelry?"

"Is a clutch one
of those little purses?" Corinne nodded enthusiastically at Jackson's
question. "Bring a couple of those too. But no jewelry." Jackson
glanced at the diamond pendant.