Not that she was going to accept anything he bought for her anyway, but if the past day or so had taught her anything about handling Xavier, it was easier to let him do what he wanted than to argue about it. Particularly when no matter how much she tried to tell him she didn’t want him to do these things for her, he ignored her and went ahead and did them anyway.
First there had been the array of food he’d had delivered that morning, spreads and pastries and cheeses and all kinds of things she’d never even heard of, let alone eaten. She’d found them all too different, too overwhelming, and had ended up going back to jelly sandwiches instead. Then there had been the toiletries that had appeared along with the food. Oils and soaps and creams in lots of different, pretty pots. And a hairbrush, a manicure set, a hairdryer, a flat iron. After that, a new backpack had appeared.
She’d at first thought he’d gotten rid of her old one, and she had run around the apartment with tears in her eyes trying to find it. Only to discover that what he’d actually done was transfer the contents into the new one, and stuck the old one in the closet of the guest bedroom she’d moved into.
That had embarrassed her. The thought that he’d seen how little she had. But she hadn’t mentioned it, not wanting to get into a discussion or an argument about it. Instead, she’d put her things in the old backpack in the closet and kept the new one out where he could see it.
However, her old clothes still hadn’t returned. He’ d sworn to her that he hadn’t gotten rid of them, but given that it had now been two days and she still didn’t have them, she was starting to wonder. Laundry didn’t usually take that long did it?
Along with the beautiful dresses, the woman had also showed her some of the most beautiful lingerie she’d ever seen. Lace and silk, in a rainbow of colors.
She didn’t want any of it.
She wore the spare pair of panties she’d had in her backpack, washing them every night in the bathroom sink and hanging them on the heated towel rail to dry. She didn’t wear a bra and had settled on one of his T-shirts and a pair of his old sweatpants she’d found in a cupboard in the hallway. She wore them with an old business tie around the waist to keep them up, also found in the same hallway cupboard.
He’d been incensed when she’d come out of the bedroom wearing it, telling her she should stay in the robe until he’d gotten her something decent to wear, but if he could ignore what she wanted, then she could ignore what he wanted. He’d threatened to dress her himself, but she’d just looked at him, silently daring him to do it.
He’d backed down at that, and she thought she might have some idea about why.
It had to do with that kiss. The kiss she tried not to think about too much during the day. It was only last night that she’d taken out the memory, turning it over and over in her head as she lay in the soft, wide bed, staring at the ceiling. Reliving the heat of his mouth, the feel of his strong hands on her, and the strange awareness of her body that had gone through her like an electric shock.
He’d kept his distance from her for the rest of the day after that, at least physically. She’d been glad, because she didn’t know how to process it. Didn’t know why she’d stood there, letting him put his mouth on hers. Letting him touch her, letting his tongue explore her, taste her.
She just . . . hadn’t known how to deal with any of it.
“Excuse, me? Miss?”
Mia looked up at the woman, who was holding out the impractical black dress. “Yes, it’s very nice. But I don’t want it.”
The woman didn’t even blink. “No problem. Let’s see if we can’t find something else for you.”
At that moment, the elevator doors opened and Xavier came strolling in. He wore his suits without jackets and mostly without a tie, and today was in a pair of dark, tailored pants and a black business shirt, a couple of buttons open at the neck.
The department store woman gave him a glance, her smile widening into blinding. Mia watched curiously as the woman touched her hair in what looked like an unconscious gesture. “Oh, Mr. de Santis,” she said. “We weren’t expecting you back quite so soon.”
Xavier gave her one of his own blinding smiles, making something unfamiliar tighten in Mia’s chest. She didn’t like it, whatever it was.
“Sorry ladies,” he said, all easy, careless charm. “Hope I’m not intruding.”
The department store woman patted her hair again. “No, of course not. Mia was about to choose something beautiful to show you.” She glanced over at Mia. “Weren’t you?”