"Is that so? I also should've told you that I demand clean underwear during captivity as well."
"Surely you jest. The whole point of kidnapping is to keep you naked in my room."
"How will I go out to eat?"
"That's what room service is for."
"Does this place have room service?"
He taps his lower lip. "Hmm … Maybe not. All right. I suppose I can get you some clean things to wear. Something super lacy. In fire-engine red." He shoots me a comically lascivious leer.
He is, however, deeply disappointed when the only store we find is a general merchandise place that sells all sorts of things, including some clothes. He looks at the blue plastic carts with horror. I bet he's never set foot inside a store that requires him to push one around. Given the wealth and social position of his family, he's probably never shopped for groceries either.
"What the hell are those?" he whispers hoarsely when I dump a few packages of panties into the cart.
"Underwear."
He picks one up and reads the label. "White," he says sourly. "Cotton? C'mon!"
I press my twitching lips together. "If you wanted something fancier, you should've warned me first. Then I could've packed."
"What kind of kidnapper warns his victim?"
"The kind that doesn't like plain white cotton underwear?" I grab a few men's boxers and toss them into the cart. "There."
He sighs, but doesn't comment further. I bite my lip so I don't laugh out loud and grab a few clean shirts and pants while I'm at it. He gives me his size, and I dump stuff for him too.
"Who does your travel planning for you?" I ask as we wait in line to pay.
"My assistant. I tell her what I want and she does it."
"I guess she didn't take part in your criminal activity today."
"No, I didn't think to make her an accessory. Should've."
"Eh, not too bad for your first time on your own." I smirk as the cashier scans our goods. "At least we've got acceptable dental floss."
"Thank the lord," he says with mock sincerity, then pulls me into his arms and dips me dramatically like in a black-and-white romance flick and kisses me on the mouth. "Next time, I'm abducting you to Paris."
My eyes widen. "Paris?"
"Uh-huh. Much better lingerie." He grins as he straightens me and swipes his card.
"You can abduct me anytime"-I kiss him back breathlessly-"even if you aren't taking me to Paris."
* * *
Lucas
We're fortunate that Doris provides us with dinner-a homey beef stew served in the dining room. Actually I'm feeling lucky since I was leery of finding a decent place to eat after our shopping experience. All the women I've dated before would've been horrified at the lack of five star establishments. Ava, on the other hand, seems amused and content to take what comes, for which I'm grateful.
When I initially visited her at Ray and Darcy's house, I didn't mean to spirit her away like this, but I just couldn't bring myself to give her up for another night. Given the way Ray and Darcy have been, I'm certain they would've objected if Ava spent the night at my place, and I'm not sure which way she would've jumped. She's so damn loyal to them.
If only I could be certain of her devotion.
I'll have to earn that of course, but I don't know how. I've never successfully earned anyone's love.
You are marrying, right?
You know it's going to devastate Elizabeth.
I shunt aside the memory of Blake's cool words. Portraits or no, I would've gone after Ava. I'm not going to marry her for a damned painting, and if that decision costs my siblings, I'll make it up to them somehow. But I can't use Ava like that.
"This is really good." Ava soaks up her last bit of stew with a piece of bread and pops it into her mouth.
"Glad you like it," Doris says. "Sammy had to leave early to go to the hospital, and I hate eating alone." She laughs. "Sammy's the handyman, works himself up a pretty good appetite most days, but he's gotta go see his grandson born."
"Wow. That's awesome. Congrats to him," Ava says.
"Oh, he's thrilled. Loves him some children." Doris smiles, revealing the small gap between her front teeth. "Who doesn't, though, right?"
Ava's gaze rests on me, and I look back at her. Her brow is furrowed as though she's trying to weigh something that can't be weighed.
Apparently having noticed the odd vibe between us, Doris stares at me. I feel a dull flush rising from the base of my neck.
"Children are interesting," I mutter finally, re-experiencing the particular embarrassment I felt when I forgot my line in a school play.
Doris beams. "'Course they are. Fascinating, when you come right down to it."