King Among the Dead - Lauren Gilley Page 0,11
his coat rustle.
“Open your eyes.”
She did.
“Do you like this sweater?”
It was blue, and plush, warm and cozy. Finer than anything she’d ever hoped for.
She let the sleeve slide through her fingers, and turned, slowly, his hands lifting only enough to allow her to move. When she looked up and met his gaze, she found something new sparking in it; something bright, but no less enigmatic as the other expressions he’d shown her. He looked eager, almost exited, his smile curved up a fraction more in the corners.
A subtle expression, still. So much more contained than anyone else she’d ever met. But it hit her like a jolt of electricity.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she murmured, aware a beat later that he’d meant the sweater. She liked that, too. But it didn’t leave her shivering. Not like his eyes; the shape of his mouth. The gold-brown hair rustling on the shoulders of his coat.
She swallowed. “All of this stuff is too nice for me.”
“No, it isn’t. Nothing is.”
From the moment he’d opened the pie safe, her world had been a sequence of small but momentous decisions. She could choose to argue further, to disbelieve him.
But instead she chose to let the words soak into her skin; wriggle down deep to reach her bones. “I like the sweater.”
“Good.” His smile stretched another bare fraction, and she caught her second glimpse of his teeth, those sharp canines. “Pick another one.”
~*~
She picked five sweaters and felt extravagantly greedy for it, but then the sales associate was suggesting shirts to go under them, and coats to go over them, and Beck nudged her along with an encouraging twinkle in his eyes and said, “Yes, we’ll want some of it all.”
He didn’t follow when the associate led her toward the lingerie department. “I’ll meet you in shoes in a few minutes.” A small relief, especially when she realized that she would have to be measured and to go into one of the curtained dressing room to try things on. Her own bra was a sad, faded, utilitarian thing, but this was Steinman’s, after all, and so the associate brought her silks and satins and laces in all colors and cuts. Frilly and decadent and meant to be sexy; Rose started blushing and couldn’t stop, her face hot to the touch when she pressed a hand to her cheek and reminded herself to breathe. She finally selected a few simple but elegant sets in a smooth, luxurious cotton, black, and white, and tan, and gray. “These are all the latest in style with girls your age,” the associate said warmly, and shoved a handful of rainbow-colored panties into the shopping bag. “You can never have too many.”
Then it was off to shoes, where Beck had already asked a second associate to pull several pairs; he’d guessed her size, and was correct. “At least two pairs,” he encouraged, and so she chose black sneakers with white soles, and a sleek pair of lace-up brown boots that reminded her of the ones he’d been wearing last night in Miss Tabitha’s kitchen.
It was surreal. He guided her to every counter, asking the sales associates for recommendations in his smooth, charming voice, asking Rose to speak her mind, and make her preferences known. To their growing mountain of purchases they added: socks, deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, lipstick, mascara, and several varieties of face wash and moisturizer.
At the jewelry counter, she turned a pleading look toward him. It’s too much. I can’t. But he stared levelly back, radiating soft amusement – and encouragement. Always that, from the first moment last night. “Your ears are pierced.”
They were, but she wouldn’t ask for this.
“My gift to you, then.”
As if all of this wasn’t a gift. A ridiculous gift she could never repay.
He chose a pair of simple diamond studs, small and casual, though the price tag left her reeling. “And a necklace to go with it, I think,” he said.
Rose couldn’t bring herself to look when the final total for it all flashed up on the cash register. Beck handed over a sleek black card to pay for it all, and the associate beamed at him.
“It’s so nice to see you up and about and feeling better, Mr. Becket.”
“Thank you.” Beck’s voice was as charming as it had been all afternoon, but Rose watched something in his face shutter. A quick closing-off.
On the way back to the elevator, both of them toting bags, he said, “And now the electronics department.”
~*~
All the bags went into