“That’s just too lavish a gift. I’ll never be able to get you something that nice for Christmas.”
“Tell you what. I’ll get you the gown. And you get me whatever you wear underneath,” He flashed a scheming smile. “I think I’d come out ahead in that bargain.”
When she opened her mouth to refuse, he lifted a finger. “Lacey, it’s just a dress. Besides, now that I’ve seen your wild side, I might get the urge to rip the damn thing off you at the end of the night. If I buy you the dress, I won’t feel as guilty for ruining it.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to act at ball. I barely got through Edith’s fundraiser alive, remember?”
“You’ll love it.”
Lacey pursed her lips in thought. “Okay, I’ll go. But promise me you won’t let me make a fool of myself.” Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “And thank you.” She spotted his approving grin as she rose naked from the bed to find one of his old t-shirts to wear.
“My pleasure. And Lacey?” He gave her a playful smack on her bare bottom. “For the record, I love all your aspects too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Georgetown was magical in the snow with holiday decorations glimmering as they blew in the wind.
The traffic was a logjam with the streets barely plowed. Determined shoppers bustled along the streets, trudging through the snow in designer boots, their arms heavy with bags bearing the trendiest names in fashion. Scores huddled into coffee shops to thaw themselves with overpriced lattés while jabbering on their cell phones, their voices loud as they dropped the names of Washington DC’s most prominent politicians.
Mick normally would have been annoyed by such a crowd—people who thought themselves so worldly yet had lived such sheltered lives. Something about war had hardened him, witnessing such suffering and poverty. When he had first set foot in Annapolis for his new job, he had no patience for people who did not value the lottery they had won simply by being born in the United States.
Having Lacey on his arm softened him, he realized as they walked along Wisconsin Avenue, already holding two shopping bags filled with holiday gifts. There was something valuable about just living in the moment and opening his heart to pleasure, rather than constantly planning for the next mission. Maybe he had learned to finally enjoy the freedoms that he worked so hard to protect.
She gave him that, he thought as he looked over at Lacey’s rosy-cheeked face. He couldn’t resist bending over for a taste of the tiny flakes of snow that were stuck to her forehead as he kissed her. “You’re freezing,” he noticed.
“I’m loving it. It snowed all the time where I was growing up. I don’t get nearly enough of it here.”
“Well, just the same, let’s make the next stop that boutique Maeve recommended. I don’t want you so worn out from Christmas shopping that you don’t have the energy to find a dress for the ball.”
They steered themselves off Wisconsin Avenue and onto the side streets, where slick modern townhomes were sandwiched in between picturesque brownstones that were nearly as old as the city itself.
Mick’s toes felt a chill as the wet snow crept into his boots. “Your feet must be frozen,” he noted, glancing at Lacey’s inadequate shoes and making a mental note to buy her some more practical boots before the weekend was over.
“It’s not so…” she began, but was unable to complete her sentence as Mick swooped her onto his back. “What are you doing?”
“You’re riding piggyback the rest of the way,” he said matter-of-factly. “And if you argue, I’ll have to throw you over my shoulder which is actually easier on my back, but not nearly as civilized.”
Lacey laughed as she bounced the rest of the way on his back, with her bags rattling in the wind. “I’ve never ridden piggyback in my life.”
“Not even as a kid?”
Letting out a little snort, she scoffed. “You really have to meet my dad. And then tell me if you can picture him giving me a piggyback ride.”
The thought of meeting her parents should have sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine. Yet it didn’t. He even found himself intrigued by the idea.
Mick carried her down a narrow staircase into the lower level of an historic building. “This must be it,” he said, putting her down so that he could press the doorbell.
Maeve had clearly called in advance, because the manager and an assistant greeted them at the door with two glasses of champagne and a selection of gowns in Lacey’s size. Maeve was, apparently, a woman whose shopping aptitude was respected in DC’s Georgetown.