'G-string.'
'OK,' he said roughly. 'Sounds good.'
'So you'll go, then?'
What choice did he have? 'Yeah.'
Ana barely suppressed her giggles as she walked with him to his apartment. The look on his face had been priceless. No bra? No knickers? Ana had never had the experience of turning someone to jelly at her feet before. It was hilarious-and heady. But he had to go to the wedding. If she had to hog-tie him and carry him in there, he had to go. She knew what it was like to fall out with family. He was hurting now-if he didn't show he'd hurt more. He had parents who loved him-who'd made life hard, for sure, but who had loved him. Where there was love there was hope, right?
She looked around his apartment as he disappeared upstairs. It was totally different from when she'd been in there a year ago. It had been stripped and modernised. Light and spacious, the kitchen was fantastic.
'What do you think?' Seb called.
'Phil did a good job.'
'Yeah.' He walked through to where she was with just a towel slung low round his hips.
Ana stared. He'd shaved. He'd showered. He'd gone back to gorgeous.
'What are you doing?' she asked, unable to tear her eyes from his frame.
He hadn't dried himself properly. Droplets of water clung to his chest-tracking down his oh-so-toned abs. Her body began its meltdown-Seb and water. There was nothing like Seb and water.
He looked surprised at her question. 'Need to iron a shirt.'
Not sexy. Not sexy. Seeing a man in a towel ironing a shirt was not sexy.
Right-her boobs weren't getting the message. Nor was her womb.
Ana had to put herself in time out. 'I'm going to get to grips with your car.'
She took his key and went out to where the sleek machine was parked. Tossed the bag with her shoes and dress into the back and sat in the seat and figured out the windscreen wipers.
He grinned wickedly when he slung into the seat beside her. 'Harvey Nicks, here we come.'
Ana kept her eyes on the road. She hadn't seen Seb in a suit in a while. And if she looked now they'd have an accident. Fatal.
But Seb had come to life. Any trace of hangover was obliterated as, frighteningly at ease in the lingerie department, he happily browsed through the racks of silk and lace and nothing-much-else. He held up a couple and looked surprised when she turned on him crossly.
'Can't you go and be embarrassed in the corner like any normal man would?'
'And miss out on all this? No way.' He grinned as her colour rose. 'All right, I'll go look at the bikinis. That make you happy?'
Ten minutes later she stood in the booth and sighed. There was no denying it. There was no bra on earth that could be worn under the dress. She had to go commando.
'You can get away with it. Not many could.'
Oh, hell, she was going to have to walk in public like this? Thank heavens for the wrap. Ana turned to the assistant. 'I feel bad about not buying … '
'Don't worry. Your husband is out there buying up a storm.'
'He is?' Her husband? He'd announced their relationship to the store?
The woman nodded. 'Now he's sure of your size … ' Her brow raised.
Ana didn't need the mirror to know she was cherry red. The shop assistant clearly thought there was some kind of Pygmalion thing going on with her and Seb because she'd already sent for one of the girls from an exclusive make-up counter.
'It won't take a moment to touch up your face.'
Touch it up?
'This is all part of the service?'
The assistant smiled. 'We like to take care of our valued customers.'
Goodness. He really must be spending up big.
She sat on the chair in the spacious changing room and held still for the 'touch up'. Glancing into the mirror, she couldn't believe the effects wrought after just a few dabs here and there. And the lipstick was just the shade.
'You'll want one to refresh later.'
'Sure I will,' Ana said. 'Just add it to his bill.'
They bonded more over her high-heeled strappy sandals.
'Some time today would be good.' Seb's voice came through the curtain.
'Ignore him,' Ana said sotto voce to the assistant. 'I do.'
It was another full ten minutes to get finished and then summon the confidence to exit the room. She couldn't bear to wait for his reaction so went straight on the offensive.
'What are you buying?' She stared suspiciously at the tissue-wrapped somethings going into the big bag. There was already one full bag to the side of the counter.
'Nothing.' Evil grin in place. 'Wedding present.'
'You're giving your father's new wife frilly knickers?'
She moved closer to see them, still not looking at him, noticing instead how his hand had curled into a fist on the counter.
'What did you do to your arm?' The laugh in his voice had vanished.
'Oh, nothing.' Damn, he'd seen it through the wrap.
'Nothing doesn't need a plaster.'
It was the thinnest plaster she'd been able to find. But it was a big square-had to be, to cover her moment of lunacy. 'All right.' She breathed out and prayed for cool indifference. 'I got a tattoo.'
'What?' He pushed the shawl back, his fingers gently lifting the edges of the tape. 'When?'
'On Mnemba.'
His fingers stopped. 'Mnemba? I didn't realise there was a Tattoo You on the island.'
'Oh, yes. They had everything there. I got it on the last day when I went for that massage and you were swimming.'
'A tattoo. Needles, Ana? In Africa?' Now his fingers were gripping her too hard.
She rolled her eyes. 'It's henna, Seb. It'll fade.'
Colour slashed his upper cheeks and she felt his harsh breath out. 'So why are you covering it up, then?' His fingers were back at work, carefully peeling the sticky tape.
She held back the wince and made her excuse. 'It's not exactly classy, is it, for your dad's wedding?'
'Dad's wedding isn't classy.'
He lifted off the plaster. Damn. She instinctively rubbed her arm, hoped by some miracle it would have faded in the last sixty minutes. But from the impenetrable mask that his face had just become, she knew she'd had no such luck.
They were a regular sideshow for the shop assistants, weren't they? Discreet as those perfectly coiffed women were, they weren't able to hide either their smiles or their interest. There was a long moment of silence during which all the indoor plants decorating the room grew an additional three inches from the heat radiating from her face.
Finally he spoke. 'What does it stand for?'
'South Africa.'
Their initials were entwined in the centre of some completely intricate swirling, flowery design that was in a sort of oval shape covering almost all of her upper arm.
'You seem to have been misinformed-We weren't in South Africa. We were in Tanzania.'
'The girl did it,' Ana mumbled-mortified. 'It was her idea. The design.' Oh, hell, this was too embarrassing. 'They thought we were on our honeymoon.'
'I told them we were,' he said so softly she hardly heard. She was too busy trying to explain.
'She'd done it before I knew. I … I thought it was just going to be a … a pretty pattern … ' Her feeble mutterings ceased as she felt his finger trace over the letters, following the swirls down her arm.
She looked at him; his smile had disappeared altogether.
'I'll put the bandage back on.'
'Leave it.'
'I have the wrap-it'll cover it. It's cold anyway. This dress is too short.'
'The dress is stunning.'
She didn't listen. Too busy staring where he was rubbing his hand over his jaw. 'You'd better take your wedding band off. Why do you wear it?'
'Because I'm Mr Married at work. Why didn't you take yours off?'
'I did. Months ago.'
'Rubbish.' He picked up her hand. 'The tan mark is still there. I saw it days ago.'
'I only had it on because the travel guides suggested it for women travelling alone.' She snatched her fingers from his.
He made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a snort.
She glared at him. Forgot the assistants. Forgot everything but how close he was now. And he glared back. Then-as if he couldn't help it-his gaze coasted down her body. She felt it like a caress.
He shook his head the tiniest fraction. 'Your shoes are ridiculous.'
'Too tall?' There was only an inch between them now-both in height and distance. She could almost look him in the eye.
His arm snaked round her back, pulling her in tight. 'No.'
She was flush against him. Could feel him. Oh-h-h, could she feel him.
'Just about right.' His mouth so nearly brushed hers.
But just as abruptly he turned and walked, pulling her quickly out of the store.
Ordinarily Ana would accuse someone moving this fast of being flustered. But Seb never got flustered. People stared as they moved through the departments. But then, they always stared at her. It was just a fact of life when you were taller than most men. But in this dress, these shoes and, yes, the lipstick, she felt a million dollars-all because of the passion she'd just seen in his eyes.
He wanted her. Badly.
So let them stare-she no longer cared.
OK, so maybe most of the stares from the women were aimed at him. And the smiles definitely were. He guided her through the store, gripping the thousand bags in his other hand. She was breathless. Totally turned on high. Definitely wanted to explore the hitherto unrealised potential of the shoes. Stand-up sex-they hadn't done that on Mnemba. Amazing when she considered they'd done it just about every other way. A wave of pure eroticism trammelled through her. Fiercely she celebrated the freedom that came with the flush of that heat. She could be her own woman-in charge of her own body, her career, her assets and most of all her heart. She could handle him.