Lost in You Read Free Page B

at me, obviously concerned about the noise I’d made, then he caught himself – probably upon seeing me in nothing but a soaking wet camisole. ‘Jesus, sorry,’ he said. ‘I just –’
    ‘It’s OK,’ I said, biting my tongue to try and keep my teeth from rattling. ‘It’s OK,’ I repeated and yanked the sopping wet cami off over my head. My hair probably looked like the Bride of Frankenstein but now was not the time for vanity.
    My nipples pebbled harder and my breasts followed suit by rushing with goose bumps. Another deep shiver worked through me and finally I managed to tug his huge warm sweater down over my damp skin. I let out an audible sigh.
    ‘I’m done,’ I said. ‘Thank you. You can turn around.’
    When I turned to look at him he was staring at the small pile of my wet clothes, the cami conspicuously on top. He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. ‘Yeah. Let’s get you some clothes, Clover,’ he said.
    ‘I have … you gave me this,’ I finished weakly as another series of shivers racked my body.
    ‘But your skirt is wet …’ He swallowed, looking as if he was almost as uncomfortable as me. ‘And your stockings.’
    When he said stockings I felt myself blush. At least the involuntary reaction left me warmer.
    ‘I’ll be fine. Plus, how the heck would we get anything? Everything is shut up tight.’
    He grinned at me, the sudden change in expression making him look like a mischievous boy. ‘Oh, the perks of being the boss.’ He extracted a well-worn leather wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a folded sheet of paper and shook it at me. ‘The security code for every store in the place. Bradley insisted I have it. “Just in case.” God bless his OCD-riddled little heart. You need some jeans. Socks. Maybe boots. On me. It’s the least I can do.’
    ‘So, we’re trapped here for a super-storm and you’re going to take me shopping?’
    ‘We have to do something to pass the time.’ When he said that, his eyes went back to the small pile of my wet clothes. His gaze on my unmentionables had me suddenly and inexplicably wishing he would touch me. I thought of the furniture store another hallway over. Right now on display was a magnificent queen-sized bed done up in so-simple-it-had-to-cost-a-fortune white bedding.
    ‘Right,’ I said. I cleared my throat. ‘Where to?’
    ‘First jeans, so that would be …’ He waited, watching me.
    ‘I guess the women’s store near the entrance. What’s it called?’ I snapped my fingers.
    ‘
Her
, I think.’ He winked. ‘Extremely clever.’
    ‘I think what’s in right now is so starkly plain they can charge a fortune for it. So if a store is named
Her
, all the hers will go there?’ I shrugged.
    He brushed a stray hair out of my face and I froze.
    ‘I think you’re probably right, Clover.’ His gaze never wavered. He just watched me as I floundered inside, trying to remain calm and not do anything stupid. Like step back wildly. Or that insane laugh I tended to bark out when I was nervous. ‘
You’re
very clever.’
    ‘I’m glad someone thinks so.’
    He frowned briefly at my self-deprecating humour and then took my hand and tugged me along. But only for a moment. Then he dropped it as if remembering his manners. I missed the touch when it was gone. But this wasn’t high school and we weren’t going steady. This was a super-storm and he was my boss. I’d do well to remember that.
    * * *
    He punched the code in at
Her
and then bent to roll up the slatted door. Inside to the left was the light switch and he flicked it. The store lit up, looking strangely apocalyptic with all the brightly coloured folded clothes, and fancy mannequins in ensembles and glitzy costume jewellery, but backlit with a dark mall and the sound of an end-of-days kind of wind outside.
    ‘It’s like the end of the world,’ I whispered.
    Dorian nodded, dropping into an overstuffed black chair obviously there for waiting boyfriends and spouses. ‘I