Adored (LOVE LETTERS #1) - Kristen Blakely Page 0,24
town?”
“Yesterday.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “You didn’t call?”
“I didn’t think we had plans.”
Her gaze fluttered to the ground. “I guess not. Can you come upstairs? Help me select a suitable dress?”
He looked at her black cocktail dress. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
Rowan stifled a sigh as he followed Vera to her bedroom.
“Sit here, please.” She gestured to a love seat tucked in front of the lace-trimmed French window. He sat and she posed with a hand on her hip. “Tell me, honestly, what do you think?”
“Elegant.” Almost. Something was missing, and he knew exactly what it was.
“Really? I can’t decide between this dress and this other one.” She kicked off her heels and scurried into her closet. Moments later, she emerged in an emerald green dress with a trailing hem. It cut off just above her knees in front, but extended to mid-calf at the back. The flowing skirt framed her shapely legs, and the front of the dress dipped daringly low, displaying the valley between her breasts.
His groin stirred. Rowan had to swallow hard before responding. “Very nice.” Even so, that same something else was missing.
Vera turned to study herself in the full-length mirror. “I don’t know. I have another dress to show you. Hang on a minute.”
Her next dress was a halter-top burgundy gown which showed off her long-legged, curvaceous frame. She turned in a circle; her back was bare, a creamy expanse of flesh that just begged for his touch.
Rowan squeezed his eyes shut.
“Not good?” Vera’s voice intruded on his thoughts. Her voice quivered. “I thought so. I feel like an idiot in all these dresses.”
He opened his eyes and held out his hand to her. “Come here. Sit down. I want to show you something.” He went to the bedroom door. “I’m going to walk in through that door three times, and after that, I want you to tell me what you see.”
“Okay,” she sounded hesitant, but she complied.
He stepped out and framed his thoughts. His body shifted in response; the length of his stride changed, the angle and tilt of his head altered, the focus and gleam of his eyes faded. His shoulders curved in, a subtle change that took an inch off his height.
The man who walked back into Vera’s bedroom seemed too small for the perfectly tailored Armani business suit he wore. No amount of expensive fashion could conceal the fact that he was grossly out of place—a misfit and a fraud—and he knew it.
Vera gasped, her fingers pressed to her lips.
Rowan turned and walked out. Moments later, another man, in the same clothes, strode into the room, but this man was a rogue, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His rakish grin and the dangerous glitter in his eyes promised women a night of pure ecstasy, but never more than one night.
Vera’s eyes widened.
Once more, Rowan turned and walked out. The man who returned was the Rowan he knew Vera would recognize—a man who could wear Armani, Versace, Old Navy, and Target, with the same unshakeable confidence and grace.
He saw realization dawn in her eyes. “Style is not what you wear,” he said simply. “It’s how you wear it and how you feel when you’re in it. Pick a dress, any dress, and I’ll help you.”
Vera returned moments later, wearing the emerald green dress that had wreaked havoc on his self-control minutes earlier.
Good choice, he congratulated her silently. He held his hand out to her and drew her to stand in front of the mirror. God, she was beautiful, and it had nothing to do with her dress or her makeup. “Tell me about a day when everything went right. When you felt powerful, unstoppable.”
She hesitated.
“Perhaps it was the day you got engaged, or your wedding day. Maybe the day you graduated from college or medical school. The day you found out you were pregnant, or the day Allison was born? Can you think of that special day?”
Vera closed her eyes. A smile crept over her lips. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Do you remember how you felt?”
Her smile deepened. Rowan would have sworn he felt his heart crack. The smile on her face belonged to a woman in love. Was she reimagining her engagement or her wedding?
He clenched his teeth. No matter. The power of love was unmatched. The knowledge that she was a woman adored, a woman loved, would kick her style into high gear. With effort, he kept his voice even. “Do you see how others are looking at you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s