Seduce Me (Body Scenes 3)

He reached a hand out to her and grazed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “It wasn’t like that. She was older and a widow. She’d lost her husband and her sons to British soldiers, and yet, she was so compassionate, she felt it was her mission to help anyone whose path she crossed, even if they were the enemy. She lived close to one of the forts in Kentucky and she’d put the injured up in her house or bring them medicine or care for them. She didn’t see them as soldiers. They were people, and she couldn’t turn her back on them, no matter what uniform they wore.”

“That’s admirable.”

“And courageous. It was extremely dangerous. And not everyone agreed with her reasoning of treating human beings, not soldiers.”

A flash of pain in his eyes prompted Shana to ask, “What happened to her?”

“Hanged for treason, of course. I couldn’t get to her in order to save her, because I’d been elsewhere at the time. I never quite forgave myself for that and it changed me a bit. I took up where she left off, as best as I could at any rate.”

“You went AWOL?”

He nodded. “No one ever found me, of course. I was able to avert attention. Unlike you, obviously,” he added. “You’ve always been the center of it.”

“Not willingly.”

“So what was it?” he asked again, not even needing to remind her he’d posed a specific question.

Shana shook her head. “You’ll think it’s absurd, but… It was a white dress. No,” she corrected as her heart constricted. “It was the dress. The only one I’ve ever wanted.”

“I’m guessing this is anything but absurd.”

She loved that he got her. How could she not have seen that last night?

Ignoring that thought, she continued.

“I saw it in the window of a Paris boutique. It was the most beautiful gown I’ve ever laid eyes on—then or now. The sleeves were made of the most delicate lace and they were so long, they covered half of the mannequin’s dainty hands. Beads and crystals were sewn into the intricate design, making the lace sparkle under the twinkling lights from the chandelier overhead. It was an off-the-shoulder dress with a slight dip at the breasts. The bodice was all lace and it covered the breasts and cut away at the top of the rib cage, like butterfly wings, then wrapped around to the back, where there was a long line of buttons. The lace gave way to the smoothest, softest, most luxurious satin I’ve ever touched. It was positively breathtaking.”

He propped a hip against the table and said, “Don’t tell me you couldn’t afford it?”

She smiled, despite the painful memory creeping around the edges of her mind. “Of course I could. I was only fourteen at the time, but I had plenty of money. A lot of it got sent to my family, even though I never saw them, but I had more than my fair share.” Her smile faded at the thought of a family she didn’t even know and the recollection of the dress that had perpetuated her damaged self-image.

“What happened, Shana? With the gown?”

“I told the saleswoman I wanted it and handed over my credit card. In a very cold tone, she informed me it was a one-of-a-kind creation from an up-and-coming designer named Phillipe LaVallier and that it wouldn’t fit me.”

This seemed to strike a sour note with Drake, as he scowled. “It was just a dress, Shana. How could you have let something like that make you feel inferior?”

She lifted her hands in the air. “If you’d ever been a fourteen-year-old girl who wasn’t a size two, you’d understand.”

He had to concede that point. “I have no delusions about the pressures your society and species places on girls and women to look a certain way. It’s all over the Internet. But it’s also something you denounce on your website. You take the stance that everyone has to find their own way and be true to themselves. Why can’t you take your own advice?”

She let out a long breath as her hands dropped to her sides. Deflated, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because it was engrained on my brain that I was different. I was constantly reminded of it when designers created the

gowns the women performed in or when we were all photographed together or when we sat in front of thousands of people and I looked at the semi-circle of other female violinists and saw how small and feminine they looked. They all sort of blended together. And then there was me.”

He seemed to consider this, taking her self-consciousness seriously. Finally, he asked, “So about the dress?”

“I bought it, of course. My own gift to myself. Though…” Her brow furrowed. “I’d always considered it was the sincerest gift I’d ever received—even though I’d been the one to buy it—but in hindsight, it was the most insulting one.”

“How so?”

“I took it with me everywhere. I’d hang it in plain view in my hotel suites, and every time I passed by it, I’d touch the satin skirt or a lace sleeve. I had room butlers steam it as soon as it was unpacked or if I saw the tiniest wrinkle. And sometimes, I’d try it on. Of course, I could never get the buttons to fasten at my hips. They’d hook at my waist, because it was small enough. But my hips and breasts… Not a chance.”

“Good Lord.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Those hips and breasts are the stuff fantasies are made of.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.” She never would have believed his words had it not been for last night. “But dresses like that one were made for women with zero curves and no boobs. So it would never fit me, no matter what I did. Yet I hadn’t quite accepted that reality when I was fourteen.”

He groaned.