Elude (20 page)

"The house is chilly."

He was thoughtful for a minute then said, "I'll break the air conditioner."

"Or you could just turn it off."

"Right, but breaking sounds a lot more aggressive, and I guarantee if you start wearing short dresses around the house, I'll be aggressive, possibly violent."

I let out a little laugh and followed him closely as he led me through the hundreds of perfumes and cosmetics on the ground floor. Once we hit the escalator, he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.

It seemed natural for him.

It wasn't for me.

I'd never had an actual boyfriend or someone steady in my life — so having someone hold me in public, felt… foreign, but extremely nice.

A group of teenage girls were riding down; as we passed, I could have sworn I heard each of their hearts stop. As it was, all talking ceased, mouths dropped open, one girl let out a little whimper, and — yup — a camera phone quickly snapped a profile shot of Sergio.

"Happen often?" I joked.

Sergio narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Teen girls." I jerked my head in their direction; most of them were still staring, so when Sergio turned around, they all froze in place and nearly fell off the bottom of the escalator.

He shook his head in disbelief then flashed me an amused smile. "They're probably just confused as to why a giant would be with such a small little pixie."

I growled. "I'm short, but I can still dropkick your ass."

"Oh, I know." He nodded escorting me off. "I still have a bruise on my ass to prove it."

"Aw, it's like a love mark."

"Yeah, that's what I think every time it hurts to sit. A love mark."

I smacked his ass hard.

He let out a little groan.

A saleslady stopped walking and eyed us suspiciously.

"Sorry." I licked my lips and elbowed Sergio. "He's just really sexually frustrated."

Her eyes bugged out of her head as she scurried past us and nearly collided with a mannequin.

"That went well." I nodded and turned to Sergio. His eyes were dark and hungry as he gazed down at me.

I gulped.

"If you wouldn't have chosen my car over me, I wouldn't be so…" He leaned forward and tilted my chin up. "…frustrated."

"They have changing rooms for a reason."

"With cameras."

"So put on a good show."

He sighed and released my chin. "Let's shop first…" He quickly looked around then grabbed my arm and basically pulled me toward designers I'd never worn before. In fact, I was pretty sure they didn't let just anyone walk up to those little sections of the store that have glass surrounding them.

Dolce & Gabbana was first.

Followed by Versace.

We ended up in Prada, and then when Sergio still wasn't happy, we moved into another section that I couldn't really pronounce.

A tank top was six-hundred-and-ninety dollars.

Sergio was like a man possessed. I imagined seeing him shop was like watching an animal finally return to its natural habitat. Yes, Sergio was the great white shark finally getting released back into the ocean.

You know, if people saved sharks.

Then healed them.

Then returned them to their natural habitat where they'd most likely kill all the other endangered animals.

Bad example, but I couldn't exactly say he was like a turtle finally finding its way into the ocean.

He was all aggression.

His eyes took in each thread count; he was the Clark Kent of shopping, using super-human eyesight to read through any sort of cheaply made fabric.

"This." He tossed me a dress. Didn't ask if I liked it, simply ordered me to hold it. And so it went. He said "this" and tossed; I caught and tried not to trip.

In three hours, he'd picked out complete outfits.

Not just shirts that I could wear around the house…

But silky things that hung on my body like I wasn't sick. Pants that hugged my legs like they weren't losing muscle.

Every outfit fit.

Sergio was officially magic.

He didn't complain when I took a long time getting in and out of the clothes; then again, he was actually in the changing room with me, considering a few of the outfits made no sense whatsoever.

You know you officially have no style when a guy has to tell you which way the front is on the shirt.

Sergio got that irritated look on his face then told me to open up the door or "so help me, I'm going to break it down."

Another saleslady scurried by after that…

Leaving us all alone in our own dressing area.

"So what do you think?" I'd just tried on a beautiful, short, black lace dress with three-quarter sleeves. It hugged every curve. I already imagined wearing bright blue shoes with it or something equally loud. Maybe I'd go red and match his car.

"Hmm." Sergio leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "Twirl for me?"

I twirled once.

He frowned harder.

My face fell. "It's ugly?"

"Twirl again," he instructed. "Stop if you get dizzy."

I twirled again, slower this time, so I didn't fall over.

Still no emotion. The guy said he was Italian, but in moments like these I wondered if he didn't have some Russian blood running through those ice veins of his.

"One more time."

Rolling my eyes, I twirled one more time; halfway around, I felt his hands on my hips, helping me finish the twirl. When I faced him again, his eyes were hooded. "It was a three-twirl dress."

"Aw, that good?" I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Not just good…" His knuckles grazed my ribs, his fingertips spread across my hips and landed on my ass. "Gorgeous."

"It's over twenty-seven-hundred dollars."

He shrugged.

"That's more than most people's house payment," I added.

"How do you feel in it, Andi?"

I thought about it for a minute. "It's not necessarily how I feel. I mean, I feel great, but when I see the way you look at me… I feel invincible."

"Exactly." Sergio brought his mouth to mine, kissing me softly then stepping away. "I know not everyone can afford to shop like this. I can. So don't think about the price tag. What I want you to think about is how you feel. You spend all day and all night in clothes. Well, all night we're working on. But you get my point. They should better your day. They should complement your skin, from the color to the lush feel. Clothes make you… you. It's important to me." He put his hands on his hips and hung his head. "It's important that you feel like the best you that you can possibly be."

"Careful, Italy. Your romance is showing."

I could have sworn I saw a blush tinge his cheeks before he coughed and looked away. "Yeah, well." He burst out laughing. "I have nothing. Shit." He rubbed his face with his hands. "Sorry, forgive my psychotic break, I just… in any other situation I'd try to defend myself, or maybe just ignore that you called me romantic."

"So what gives?"

His eyes met mine. "You make me want to be."

I swallowed the dryness in my throat. "What else do I make you want to do?"

"You want a list?"

I opened my mouth to scream
yes
when a knock sounded at the door.

"Uh, sir, I have those items you asked for."

I crooked an eyebrow in Sergio's direction.

In two strides, he was at the door; he opened it, pulled the items from the lady, and said, "Thanks. That will be all."

Dismissed.

Any other guy would have sounded like a complete ass, but coming from Sergio, it almost seemed like he'd really meant it as a compliment:
Thanks for helping, but your services aren't needed because I can probably do your job better than you do your job.

His confidence was one of the sexiest things about him.

"Andi…" Sergio held up two very small pieces of lingerie. "…these are for you."

My mouth dropped open. "Isn't underwear supposed to cover?"

His smile was heated. "It covers… enough."

"Enough," I repeated. "Fine, but you can't be in here while I'm trying it on."

"I'm sorry. Are we negotiating now?"

"Out." I shooed him toward the door. "I'll give you a play by play."

It took every ounce of strength I had to push him out the door, and even then, he complained the entire way. But hey, technically, we were still on our honeymoon, and I wanted some things to still be a surprise.

"Ready yet?" Sergio called.

"Three seconds, Italy. It's been three seconds."

A few more seconds went by. "And now it's been ten. You ready yet?"

I rolled my eyes and made quick work about getting out of my dress so my slave driver wouldn't start pounding down the door.

On second thought…

I smiled as an evil plan took root…

Sergio

I WAITED IMPATIENTLY OUTSIDE THE DRESSING ROOM
. My phone hadn't stopped going off since we'd started shopping, and for once I didn't give a rat's ass what any of the guys needed.

I didn't want to be interrupted. I could hear Andi undressing; it was painfully arousing, so much so that I finally pulled out my phone, desperate for a distraction that wouldn't have me breaking down the door and crossing number twelve off that damn list, landing us both in prison for indecent exposure.

Five messages were from Phoenix with strict instructions to yet again check the black folder. Somehow he'd gone from a psychopath with suicidal tendencies to a nagging father figure who wouldn't leave me the hell alone.

I sent him an emoji of a gun back.

He sent me a picture of his middle finger in return.

With a sigh, I clicked through the rest of the messages and paused when I saw one that needed attention.

Nixon:
Hand sent out, but two of my men were injured while someone tried to infiltrate the house again.

Me:
Did they take anything?

Nixon:
No. And this time they just left once they knew nobody was home.

Me:
Well that's reassuring.

Nixon:
Why the hell are you at Neiman Marcus?

Me:
Why the hell do you care? And turn off the damn Find a Friend. It's annoying as hell.

Nixon:
Phoenix told me to tell you to read the black folder.

"Ouch!" Andi yelped.

Me:
Phoenix can kiss my ass
.

I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket and whistled out a breath of air. "Doing okay in there?"

"Yeah." She was seriously out of breath. Was trying on lingerie an Olympic sport or something? Maybe she wasn't feeling well. My gut clenched.

"It's just that — oh, wow."

"Wow?"

"Italy…" She let out a dark chuckle. "My boobs look amazing in this."

I sighed and gripped the handle to the door. "I bet."

"And my ass?" she added, "looks… firm. Do you think it's firm?"

I banged my head against the door and let out a curse. Whose stupid idea was this? Oh, right. Mine. "Your ass is… firm."

"Ooo!" Clapping came from the other side of the door. "I think I like this lacy bodice thing better. Holy crap, do you think they have a whip that comes with? I could dig that."

I let out a strangled cough as a salesclerk re-entered the dressing area, stopped, then turned around.

At this rate, they were all going to quit by the end of the day.

"Damn." Andi let out a whistle. "You should see this."

I gripped the handle harder. "Can't. It seems my wife's locked me out."

"So pick the lock."

"You can't pick a lock that slides, Andi."

"Hmm, if you were Russian, you could find a way to get in here."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Russians know all the tricks."

I pulled against the lock then slammed my hand against the door while Andi continued talking about her mother country. I half expected her to break out in song.

Desperate, I looked up. I could probably climb over the top. What the hell was I thinking?

With a growl, I glanced down at the floor. At least two feet separated the door and the ground.

Crawling.

I was going to crawl.

On my hands and knees.

Wow, if the guys could see me now.

Shaking my head at myself, I got down on my stomach and slid under the dressing room. My eyes were met with combat boots. Slowly, my eyes inched up Andi's already-dressed form.

"Looking for something?"

"Low…" I shook my head. "…even for you."

She knelt down and blew me a kiss. "I did you a favor. Now for the rest of the day, you can imagine what I looked like — and how you'll get to take off the lingerie tonight."

"I vote now."

"Hmm… maybe later. You said I could shop."

"I regret those words. Really. I do."

She smirked. "I can tell. Now grab the clothes and swipe, swipe, swipe."

With a groan, I moved to my feet and grabbed the hangers off the hooks. My phone buzzed again in my pocket. With a curse, I put the clothes on one arm and answered. "Kinda busy, Nixon."

"Shopping, I know."

I rolled my eyes. "What did you need?"

"The men said the alarm was de-activated."

"The house alarm?" I blinked. "But that's impossible. Only a few people know the code — me, Jules, and Andi." I hadn't exactly told Andi the alarm code but figured she knew it because she'd watched me plug it in.

"And Jules was one of the guys that was knocked out," Nixon grumbled. "So how did they get in the house without tripping the alarm?"

I narrowed my eyes at Andi; she was busy petting the clothes on my arm. No way would she do that, and I hated myself that I'd even thought it.

"I'll figure it out," I huffed. "That all?"

"Yeah. And Sergio?"

"What?" I barked.

"It's good to see you showing interest…"

"In Andi?"

"In clothes."

"Bite me."

I hung up while he laughed his ass off.

****

"You weren't kidding about those mimosas." Andi yawned behind her hand as we walked through Lincoln Park. I'd originally thought to take her to the zoo since she had that odd fascination with animals, but after seeing how tired she was, I decided to save it for another day.