Fixing Freddie by Mona Ingram

Author:Mona Ingram [Ingram, Mona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2011-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Freddie spoke quietly but firmly to the salesman, outlining his needs.

“I understand, sir. What colours do you prefer?”

He looked at Samantha, who’d been standing quietly by his side. She was fascinated by the way he was handling himself, as though he was accustomed to giving orders.

“Greys,” he said, looking to her for confirmation. “Dark browns, dark shirts. Nothing flashy.”

She nodded her approval.

“And I’ll need something a bit more formal for a wedding. The invitation says “casual, no suits or ties’ but I need something classic.

“We have just the thing. Would you step over here, sir, so I can measure your inseam?”

“Is there somewhere the lady can sit?” He waited while the salesman brought a chair for Samantha, and then submitted himself to the salesman.

He stood in front of a three-way mirror and Samantha studied his reflection. How had she ever thought he was dull, or unattractive? He exuded confidence and a raw sexuality that simmered right beneath the surface. Standing there in a shirt and cargo pants, the years of snowboarding were clearly visible in his physique. She touched her fingers to the corners of her mouth to make sure she wasn’t salivating. What would it be like to make love with a man like this? A man who knew who he was, who didn’t pump himself up by putting other people down. The idea was deliciously arousing.

She looked up to find him watching her in the mirror. The suggestion of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he winked at her. It was a good thing she was sitting down, or her legs might have buckled.

The salesman insisted that he come out into the showroom to check the fit of the slacks. The fine, luxurious fabric hung beautifully on his body and Samantha’s mouth went dry at the sight of him. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and as he twisted his body to check his reflection she caught a hint of muscles flexing under a lightweight summer shirt.

He chose several jackets, half a dozen pairs of slacks and she lost count of how many shirts he bought. As he was arranging to pick up the hemmed slacks it occurred to her that he hadn’t needed her company at all. He’d known precisely what he wanted to buy.

He offered her his hand and she rose unsteadily.

“Are you okay?” he said, leaning down to look in her eyes. His cologne was subtle and yet masculine; she gripped his hand as though she might fall, and her small hand disappeared inside his massive one. It belonged there.

“I’m fine,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Just sitting too long, I guess.”

He picked up the hangers containing the jackets and a couple of bags with his shirts. “All I need now is shoes, but I think I can manage that on my own.”

“You didn’t really need me here today.” They were walking toward the car and she gave him a sideways glance. “But I’m glad I came.

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