A Million Different Ways (Horn Duet 1)

“When?”

“Soon.”

“Is it about the shooting?” I asked, my voice loaded with concern.

“Yes.” Sebastian’s remote gaze swung away, directed absently at the passing scenery. Then, just as suddenly, it returned to me warm and affectionate. “Don’t think about that now. Ready to have some fun?”

“Not really.”

Smiling, he gave me a sideways glance. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

When we walked into Akris, I was surprised to find the store empty. There were two perfectly groomed shop girls that looked ready to swoon over my man, and an older woman, the manager, who I was certain wouldn’t swoon under any circumstance. Not even mortal injury.

“It’s empty,” I whispered.

“Because the store is closed,” he clarified with a mischievous wink. Gripped by self-consciousness, my steps slowed to a stiff crawl. Being the center of attention is not my thing, never has been. Sebastian looked over his shoulder when he realized I was no longer walking beside him, a query in his eyes. I stared back with a blank expression, too proud to articulate my discomfort. He read me perfectly, however. Tilting my chin up, he brushed his lips on mine and ran his warm hands up and down the sides of my arms––soothing me into compliance.

“Come on, lover,” he softly urged, and pulled me further into the store, the shop girls now staring bullet holes through me.

The clothes hung from neat racks, color coordinated and perfectly spaced apart. I had to admit they were to die for. The richness of the fabrics. The stunning simplicity of the design. I was scared to touch anything. All of a sudden what I was wearing embarrassed me. I turned to Sebastian and realized he was busy on a phone call. He must have noticed the lost look on my face because he motioned to the manager and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, beaming up at him.

Another one falls. Scratch that about her not swooning. Note to self––never underestimate this man’s charms.

The warmth remained on her features as she turned and addressed me. “Mademoiselle, let me show you some pieces you may like,” she said, throwing a motherly arm around my shoulders.

Sebastian sat in a leather armchair, watching me parade in and out of the dressing room, while the shop girls tripped over each other to please him. A slow trickle of possessiveness started to seep into my blood. He was polite but barely spared them a glance. Every suggestion they made was met with a dismissive head shake. God, I loved him.

I chose two pieces. A cotton shirt that crossed over the front and a pair of light wool, skinny, ankle length pants. Utterly elegant and completely practical. That didn’t satisfy his Highness, who frowned and shook his head at the manager when I said that’s all I needed. Then took it upon himself to choose a whole lot more.

A black, pencil skirt and a cream one.

A short, pleated navy skirt.

A sunflower yellow, dolman sleeve silk shirt (that I had to admit looked amazing with my coloring).

An emerald, crêpe silk dress with cap sleeves.

A white cotton shirtdress with a wide, cognac crocodile belt…and on and on. In other word––an entire wardrobe. And more clothes than I had owned in total the last ten years. Looking over the clothes he had chosen, I added ‘impeccable taste’ to the long list of his virtues.

“If I didn’t know first hand what an insatiable lover you are, I would think you were gay. You have a knack for women’s fashion. I love everything you chose.” He stepped inside the narrow dressing room. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ‘bout to prove what an insatiable lover I am,” he answered, grabbing my hand and pressing it against his impossibly hard erection.

“Sebastian––” I giggled, trying to push him away as his arms snaked around me. “Stop that this instant. I have expended a great deal of energy satisfying your baser needs.” He held on, rubbing himself against me and fumbling with the zipper of my new skirt as I tried in vain to dress. “No…wait…this is…they can hear us. How embarrassing!” I finally got the words out between burst of laughter.

He ducked his head out the curtain of the dressing room and said, no joke, “Some privacy, ladies,” to the shop girls. I could just imagine the look on their faces, and felt a small stirring of triumph that really was beneath me. That’s right, ladies, he’s mine.

Spinning me around, he placed my hands against the wall of the dressing room and pushed my back down so that my rear end arched up, seeking him. No, he couldn’t possible think… “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” I said, breathless. He flipped up my short skirt and hooked the lace thong with his fingers, exposing my feminine folds to the cool air conditioning. Gently, he skated around my clitoris in a taunting rhythm that had me pushing back for more. My mind went silent while every nerve ending in my body was wide awake. As my eyes fluttered shut, a sudden realization hit me.