That wasn’t going to work today.
She wanted to be noticed as a woman.
She didn’t want to blend into the background and be a faceless, shapeless, asexual person.
She wanted Jude to notice her.
Correction, she wanted Jude to want her. To want her in every way a man could want a woman.
Which seemed a silly thought. He did want her.
She’d seen desire in his eyes repeatedly throughout the evening before. She wasn’t blind. Desire had been there and real. What she didn’t understand was why he’d shoved her inside her apartment and high-tailed it.
Her towel-wearing, bedroom revolving door wielding neighbor had not taken what she’d wanted to give him.
Had he thought she’d follow him out of her apartment, to perhaps beg for more, as Brandy had?
Wrong. She’d wanted to spend the night with him, but was not pathetic. She had her pride, her morals. She would not cling or beg. Ever.
She didn’t want to have to beg.
Funny, she believed one hundred percent that had she been willing on the night he’d cooked her dinner he’d have taken her to his bed. Last night she had been, and he’d sent her to bed alone. What had changed?
The man really was complicated.
Had he not asked her to go with him tonight she might have questioned whether or not he’d been as attracted as she’d thought, if he’d really enjoyed himself. He’d seemed to, smiling, flirting, charming her hesitations away, but what did she know of such things?
Not much. Too little experience.
Now she wanted to seduce him, to be irresistible to him. Was that even possible?
Ugh. Her head hurt from just considering all the things that had happened between now and the morning when she’d stepped out of her apartment and found a towel-and-woman-wrapped Jude.
“Quit squinting your eyes,” the sales clerk ordered, stepping back to survey her work. She turned Sarah first one way in the swivel chair and then the other. “That is so much better. Girl, I’d kill for those eyes. And those cheekbones. Are they implants?”
Sarah blinked at the woman whose name tag read “Cher”. “What?”
“Your cheekbones.” She studied Sarah’s face. “Are they fake?”
Fake cheekbones?
“Um, no, they’re all mine.”
Had Sarah chosen implants, they sure wouldn’t have been the cheekbones she had. She’d always thought them too prominent. Besides, if she ever got implants, she had other, mostly flat, areas that could use curves more than her face.
“Lucky you, girl.”
“Thank you,” Sarah answered automatically, reminding herself the woman complimented customers for a living.
“What color is your dress so I know how to do your eye make-up?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted. “I ended up in the make-up department before I made it to dresses. I’m going there next to find something.”
Cher’s eyes widened. “No dress? Girl, we’ve got to get your dress before I do your eyes. What’s your budget?”
Sarah told her what she planned to spend.
The clerk laughed. “You’re funny. Leave this to me. My roommate is a personal shopper in Women’s. I’ll give her a call and she’ll fix you right up.”