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thing she’d lost. Her makeup. The rain must
have washed it away. She hadn’t dared use one of the tissues from her bag
because her mirror had shattered when Gaston had pulled the bag off her and
tossed it aside. Little shards of glass were everywhere, but she’d wiped the
black away from her eyes with her fingers and hoped for the best. Her hairstyle
had long gone too, and her hair straggled around her in damp tails.
    In any case, nobody was staring at her. They gazed at him
with unabashed curiosity. A local celebrity. Looking as he had before, he might
have gotten away with strolling through the store, but not now, when he’d
chosen to dress so outrageously, displaying those gorgeous nipple rings. Or so
it must seem. Nobody could say the look didn’t suit him either. Close up, his
heat and sheer vitality overwhelmed her.
    He didn’t hesitate but took her into the nearest elevator.
Three women already occupied it and they showed every indication of moving in
on Jace. One took a step forward and in this cramped space that meant she was
as close as Beverley to him.
    Jace’s dark eyes widened and before the woman could speak,
he dragged Beverley close. She landed heavily against his chest and he brought
his mouth down on hers.
    He destroyed her. First her analytical faculties stuttered
to a halt, then her sense of place followed it into oblivion. Her gasp when
he’d pulled her so hard meant her mouth fell open when he kissed her and he
took full advantage. His big hand spread over her bottom, cinching her close
against an impressive erection that pushed at his fly.
    When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, she purred low in
her throat and caressed his tongue. She wanted him with a joy and willingness
she’d never known before. Fuck, what she’d been missing.
    He drew back and smiled, his lips still damp. “Good?”
    She nodded, unable to deny it.
    Only one woman remained in the car. Just one. They must have
hit the fashion floor and gone past it. He loosed his hold on her. “We took the
scenic route.” He leaned forward and pressed the button for the second floor as
if they’d just been chatting. If he hadn’t kept her in front of him she’d have
doubted it happened. Except it had, and he was still erect.
    She wanted him so, so much, for once in her life her body
taking the driver’s seat. He leaned closer. “Beverley, you’re a firecracker.”
    Using all the discipline she’d acquired over the years,
Beverley walked out of the lift on the fashion floor with reasonable sangfroid,
glad she’d put on relatively low heels that morning. Chefs rarely admired
ultra-high heels, especially in industry professionals. Most insisted on
special shoes for the kitchen, and fined staff who failed to obey the edict.
After she’d left the kitchens, she’d bought one pair of high heels and loved
them. She didn’t have them now. Gaston Rebennac did. She hoped they’d suit him.
    Remembering her resolve, she heard Jace talking to the
personal shopper who hurried forward to greet them. “My friend here lost her
luggage. Airlines are a bitch, aren’t they?” The woman agreed without a qualm.
It seemed unfair to blame an airline, however imaginary, but it was as good an
excuse as any. She readily agreed to outfit Beverley with anything she wanted
and took her into a lush suite of changing rooms.
    The woman, “Call me Lucy,” turned out to be good at her job,
that job being to outfit Beverley in the way she thought Jace would like. Jace
turned down all attempts to send him away for an hour and said he’d wait to see
what she chose.
    Lucy tutted at her bra, but left her underwear, giving
Beverley a cute T-shirt with “Rock me baby” emblazoned on it in bright pink and
a pair of jeans so tight that if they hadn’t had stretch built in, she’d never
have fitted into them. As it was, she had to suck her breath in to fasten the
button.
    The assistant gave Beverley a faux leather jacket with long
fringes and slogans