The words were out before he could stop himself, the softness in her features disappearing instantly as she stood more rigidly, fire lighting her large eyes. “What is wrong with my clothes?”, the words bitten out as she glared at him. Waving his hands, he exhaled a long, suffering groan, “You really need me to tell you?” Her mouth straightened in an angry line, eyes flashing with warning, “Why don’t you do that Mr Big shot”, she threw back at him, Carig seeing as her hands fisted angrily on her small hips, her foot tapping.
Nodding, he stepped forward, “Fine... I will” A finger flipped the long tail which hung down behind her. “For a start... Most women do not wear ponytails... At least not after the age of twelve” Joy gasped, her hand rising to pat her hair, eyes daggers as he pointed to the collar of her jacket, “And you are supposed to be going out with me on a date... Not attending some job interview... Especially not in this outfit. I have seen better sacks than this ‘suit’” Another gasp left her as he plowed on, “And flatties?... Seriously Joy. You are not some six foot model who could get away with looking a little shorter... How tall are you?... 5’2... 5’3?... You need all the help you can get”
With her whole body rigid, she glowered back at him. “And I suppose you could choose better, could you?” Carig nodded as he moved around her, making for the direction she had come, only one door open, he sure that it must be her room. Her loud cries of protestation did not stop him as he stalked into her bedroom, pulling open the old wardrobe. To her dismay he paused, his eyes turning to her. “Good God... I like a challenge, but not much to work with here”
Joy’s insides shrivelled as he pushed each hanger aside, his look assessing each of her outfits, none of which could be described as fashionable. Finally, he settled on a summer dress, the soft buttermilk yellow a colour which looked good on her. Pulling it from the dark interior he threw it onto the bed. “OK... That was the best I could find... But you need clothes, and lots of them”
Heat infused her cheeks as she glared at the man before her. Was it only minutes ago that she had thought herself to have judged him unfairly, that perhaps he was really a sweet little pussycat, her lips twisting in a snarl. Well let that be a lesson to her. Carig Calle was no pussycat; he was an animal of a completely different species – a snake maybe. Drawing herself up to her fullest height, sure that he was not intimidated, but needing to seem stronger than she felt, she growled at him, “Well tough. I cannot afford new clothes... So get used to it”
With a look of contemptuous arrogance, he moved to the door, halting as he pointed to the dress, “Put that on... And consider the clothes I WILL be getting you a gift. However, if you think for one minute that you are going out with me wearing any of those…”, his hand gesturing to the wardrobe, “outfits... Then you are wrong. You said you wanted to mix with my social group... Well guess what, sweetheart. They will laugh you right out of the room if you turn up dressed in those”, and with that he turned and left. Joy stood silently, her eyes staring back at the empty space he had stood with stunned shock, his receding footsteps the only noise to be heard.
Slowly the rage which held her melted away as she sank onto the bed, her eyes staring intently at her hands. What the hell was she thinking? Of course he was right. She was some nobody farm girl who only ever bought a new outfit if she was attending a wedding. His friends were bored socialites who had turned shopping into an Olympic sport. Sighing, she lifted the dress he had chosen, a soft smile on her lips. It had been her father’s favourite too, the simplicity of it never aging as it hugged her small figure before flaring slightly at the hips. With a chuckle, she wondered if he thought it to be a retro copy of similar designs worn in the sixties, not prepared to tell him that it was an original, having belonged to her grandmother.#p#分页标题#e#
Taking a deep breath, she removed the suit, pulling on the dress, her hand dragging her hair free of the band to allow it to fall around her shoulders and down her back. Fishing out the cream shoes which she wore with the dress, she pulled them on, not sure that the small heels made much difference to her stature, but hey, she needed all the help she could get – was that not what he had said? Taking a last look in the mirror, she steadied herself before once more moving towards the kitchen. If he made another comment about her appearance, then so help her, she would find a good use for the other thing left to her from her grandmother. The skillet was certainly heavy enough to cause some real damage to the arrogant billionaire.