"Then I won't bend over," Drina said dryly as she straightened.
Harper closed his eyes and just managed not to whimper. This was an experience he felt sure he would never forget . . . and definitely never repeat, he thought grimly. Women were crazy.
"I think we should probably get you some FM shoes to go with it when we go looking for winter boots," Stephanie announced, and Drina nodded as she slipped back into the dressing room to return to her jeans and blouse.
"FM shoes?" Harper asked blankly.
"It's what my sister calls high heels," Stephanie explained.
"Oh." He frowned and asked, "Is it a brand or-"
"No. It stands for something, but she'll never tell me what," Stephanie said with a grimace, and then shrugged. "Maybe Drina can tell us. She seemed to know what I was talking about. Oh look! Wouldn't these look darling on her?"
Harper stared at the package of thigh-high stockings Stephanie was now holding up and shook his head with bewilderment. It was like the girl was dressing a hooker Barbie. She seemed eager to get Drina in the slinkiest, sexiest items available. Not that Drina seemed to be fighting the effort. Although, to be fair, the black dress was the only outer clothing that fit that description. The rest of the clothes she'd chosen had been mostly sensible and comfortable jeans, T-shirts, and so on. But every bit of underclothing was downright rated X.
"Girls like to wear pretty things," Stephanie announced with a smile. "My sister, Dani, says it's kind of like a secret. Men don't know what we have on under our clothes. We may look like a librarian or tomboy on the outside, but underneath we can be as secretly sexy and pretty as we please." She turned back to the hose and smiled. "You should have seen the cute little pink panties and bra Drina was wearing last night. I suffered some serious envy when I saw them. I can't wait to wear stuff like that. They looked incredible against her olive skin."
Harper blinked, his mind filling with an image of Drina in pale pink panties and bra, and it did look incredible against her darker skin. Damn, he thought on a sigh as Drina stepped out of the changing room.
"I guess I'll get it. You never know when you'll need to dress up," Drina said lightly, setting the short, black cocktail dress in the cart. "What's left? Coats, boots, a hat, and gloves?"
"Yeah." Stephanie glanced down at the bomber jacket she wore and winced. "Tiny picked this up for me yesterday, which was really sweet, because if not I wouldn't have had a coat at all. But it's kind of big and really, just not my style."
"Hmm." Drina eyed the overlarge coat and nodded. "We can get you another one."
"Thank you!" Stephanie beamed and whirled to lead the way.
Harper began to push the cart after her. When Drina fell into step beside him, he cleared his throat, and commented, "Judging by all you've chosen, you don't appear to have brought much with you on this trip."
"Oh, well, I was only expecting to be at the wedding, spend a couple of days in New York, and then head back to Spain. I didn't count on this added bit," she explained wryly.
Harper nodded; he'd thought as much by the size of her suitcase when he'd seen it last night. "So they roped you in at the last minute?"
She nodded, but smiled. "I don't mind, though. So far it's been fun. Stephanie is . . ." Drina hesitated, and then shrugged. "She's really a sweet kid." She grimaced, laughed, and said, "Well, except for the part about being determined that I should find a nice Canadian farm boy to 'play with' while here."
"So that's what all this is about," he said wryly.
Drina nodded. "Ever since she read my mind and saw how my life has been all work and no play, she's been determined I should 'have fun.' "
"She's frighteningly good at reading minds," Harper said solemnly.
"Uncommonly good at it," Drina agreed, her expression troubled. "New turns can't usually read anyone yet, but she not only seems to be able to read new life mates, but non-life mates too and even those of us centuries or millennia older than her." She bit her lip, and admitted, "Actually, she says she's not reading minds at all, but that we're all talking into her head."
"Hmm." Harper frowned at the words.
"Oh, Drina! These are pretty, and they're so soft!" Stephanie cried, drawing their attention as she rubbed a pair of red gloves against her cheek. They had reached the outerwear section.
Forcing away the concern on her face, Drina moved to join the girl, leaving Harper to follow. He did so more slowly, his mind consumed with Drina's words as he watched the two females consider the options in gloves, hats, and scarves.
He now understood Stephanie's apparent determination to dress Drina up in the hottest gear she could find. The kid probably felt guilty for the woman being roped into helping look out for her and wanted to repay her in some way. Or perhaps in reading Drina's mind she'd picked up on the soul-deep loneliness that most immortals suffered. Either way, it seemed her response was a desire to find Drina a boyfriend while she was here. The girl still thought like a mortal and didn't realize that such relationships weren't really very satisfying to their kind. To her, a female probably wasn't complete without a boyfriend on her arm. And apparently Drina was humoring the girl.
But the bit about Stephanie claiming not to read minds, but that everyone else was talking into her head was troubling. The truth was that unless an immortal had just found their life mate, their thoughts were usually more private, and they had to be read. While it was rude to do so, immortals did it all the time, which meant they all had to guard their thoughts when around others. But he'd never heard of someone experiencing what Stephanie claimed. Harper pondered what it might mean as the girls picked out hats, scarves, and gloves, and moved on to coats. It wasn't until Stephanie led them toward the boot section that Harper recalled her words while Drina had been in the changing room.
Moving the cart up beside Drina, he asked, "What are FM shoes?"
"What?" She glanced around with a start.
"FM shoes," he repeated. "Stephanie says that's what her sister calls high heels, but she didn't know why and suggested I should ask you. What does the FM stand for?"