"Miss, if you're ready, we can leave."

"Where are we going?"

"Le Ciel, miss. It shouldn't take long at all."

"Do you have to call Tristan or something to let him know we're coming?"

The driver opened the back passenger side door to the black Town Car and stood back so I could enter. His gaze drifted up toward the concrete ceiling above us. "Not to worry, miss. He knows."

If I thought the man would give me a more complete answer, I would have asked how Tristan knew we were leaving, but something told me he would simply plaster another formal grin on his face and repeat his cryptic sentence. It didn't matter. I could just ask Tristan when we arrived at the store.

I climbed into the car and settled in for the ride, not knowing where this Le Ciel was but happy that it wouldn't take long. The idea of a man taking me shopping had my curiosity piqued. Was it possible Tristan Stone was gorgeous, wealthy, sexy as all hell, and loved to shop?

No. Even he was a mere mortal man. But that was okay. I was still crazy about him.

As I pondered all the ways Tristan was far more than just a mere mortal, the Town Car weaved through traffic like the driver owned the road. By the time I'd mentally listed half a dozen things I loved about the man who had given me one of the best nights of my life, we'd arrived at a boutique in Midtown. I stepped out of the car and saw even the window showcase was obviously upscale with mannequins dressed in designer names and wearing smug looks that somehow intimidated me, telling me Le Ciel wasn't anywhere I'd ever shop.

As I entered the store, a thin woman with jet black hair and a love of Botox, if her frozen forehead was any indication, approached me with an eager look on the lower half of her face. I guessed my current outfit made it seem like I may have belonged there, but I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Miss Edwards, Mr. Stone is waiting for you. Please let me take you to him," she chirped out from her perfect mouth.

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I was afraid to open my own mouth, unsure I wouldn't inadvertently say something that would give away the truth of how much I didn't belong in her store. Instead, I silently followed her, catching the price of a few dresses as we passed and mentally adding them up to a ridiculous total on our way to a room at the back of the boutique. I found Tristan sitting with three blondes who appeared totally engrossed in whatever he was saying, each hanging on every word he spoke.

The back room was even more luxurious than the store. The walls were draped in deep blue satin fabric that reminded me of what I imagined a sheik's harem would look like. Tristan relaxed on a black velvet couch, his arms opened wide across the back and his legs spread slightly. He wore his usual suit, that day's a black pinstripe with a grey shirt, and looked so incredibly right sitting there that I felt like I was intruding. He oozed power, and the three saleswomen lapped it up.

They noticed me immediately and straightened their backs when I stepped into the room. Tristan looked over at me with a warm smile and stood to take my hand. "Good morning, Nina. Are you ready to shop?"

I looked up at him and wished we were alone so I could tell him how happy I was to see him. Quietly, I said, "I guess."

"Did you have something to eat for breakfast? I instructed the concierge to give you whatever you wanted."

I sheepishly admitted that I hadn't eaten yet. "I didn't know I could do that."

Tristan leaned down to kiss my cheek and whispered, "I'm sorry. I forgot that you wouldn't know that. I should have remembered."

His voice sounded sad, making me feel bad for not knowing. "It's okay. My stomach isn't grumbling yet, so I'm good."

He slid his thumb over my bottom lip and turned to face the three women. "Ladies, this is Nina and she hasn't eaten breakfast yet. I'm sure one of you can find her something to eat while we shop."

The blonde who stood in the middle nodded her understanding and scurried away, ostensibly to find my breakfast. I gently tugged on the sleeve of Tristan's suit coat to get his attention, and he turned to face me with a smile on his face. "You didn't have to do that. I would've waited."

"Nina, I'm about to leave a nice chunk of money in this store. The very least they can do is run out to the café down the street and pick up some pastries. I just hope you like what she brings back. If you don't, she can go again."

He turned to face the other two women who remained standing there before I could explain that making a salesgirl run out repeatedly to grab a blueberry muffin for me seemed out of line. Neither of the women seemed put off by his request, though.

"Miss," one of the women said, "we can begin anytime you'd like. Do you have a preference for beginning with day or night?"

Confused, I asked, "Day or night?"

Tristan smiled back at me and answered, "Nina will begin with clothes she can wear at night. We have a few celebrations to attend over the holidays, and she's going to need dresses."

The two women sprung into action and dashed out past me into the store. Tristan took his seat on the couch again and looked up at me, obviously satisfied by how it was all going. I remained unsure of what to do, but there was something reassuring about the fact that he was staying. While I was a master at the art of shopping as any woman in her twenties likely was, he fit right in with the ambiance of Le Ciel, while I felt like a fish out of water.

"Should I sit and wait or stand?"

"Do whatever you feel comfortable with. They'll be back in a few minutes, but I'm always a fan of having you next to me."

I took a seat on the couch. It felt like I was sitting on a cloud, and instantly, I felt more at ease. Leaning over, I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good morning. It's nice to see you. I would have loved to have seen you when I woke up."

"But you got my note, didn't you?"

"I did." Lowering my voice, I whispered, "But it's hard to have great morning sex with a note."

He slid his tongue across his lower lip and smiled. "Ah, now that's true. I'll have to remedy that oversight." Looking down, he ran his finger across my stomach. "How do your ribs feel?"

I couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was. "They feel great. I'm not so easily broken."

The women returned with their arms full of clothes. They appeared far more excited by the idea of my trying them on than I did, although I had to admit I could get used to this kind of treatment. They hung them on movable racks around the room and then took their places at the ends of one of the racks like fashion sentries.

"We're ready when you are, miss."

"Okay. I need to replace a black dress. Is there a cocktail dress in there?" I asked the left sentry.

"Of course!" she answered as she picked out some similar to the one Tristan had shredded the night before. With her arm extended, she held out three gorgeous black dresses and displayed them like she was a game show model. "I think any one of these would look incredible on you, don't you think, Mr. Stone?"

Tristan studied the three dresses for a few moments and nodded his appreciation. Turning to look at me, he leaned his head toward the saleswoman and mouthed, "You're up."

I walked over to the woman and smiled, unsure of where I was supposed to try them on. There didn't seem to be a dressing room in this area of the store. "Hi, what's your name?"

"Regina, miss."

"Hi, Regina. If you can just direct me to somewhere I can change, that would be great."

"Of course. Follow me."

As I walked away, Tristan said, "I'll be out here waiting to see you in them. When Felicia returns with your breakfast, I'll be sure to have her bring it back."

I tried on each dress and modeled them for Tristan, who loved them all. I honestly couldn't choose which one I liked most and told him that when he asked, figuring he'd choose one and make it easy, so he instructed the saleswoman that we'd take all of them. When I protested, he merely pointed at the pastries Felicia had brought back and told me to eat something.

Arguing would have been pointless, so I enjoyed a cheese Danish and thanked Felicia, who seemed surprised by my politeness.

"Next, I thought we'd try something a little different," Regina said in a happy voice. "Mr. Stone mentioned that you're looking for some lingerie."

I looked over at Tristan, who grinned like a cat who'd just eaten a bird. "Really?"

"I think you'll like what I've picked out. I hung them in the dressing room for you," she continued.

"Okay. Lingerie it is," I said as I flashed a smile at Tristan. "But I'm not coming out here to model these."

The dressing room was a well-lit, large room that reminded me of a movie star's closet I once saw on one of those shows about famous people's homes. There were built-in racks along three walls and a large built-in dresser on the wall next to the door. In the corner of the room stood a tri-fold mirror so customers could see how great they looked in any Le Ciel outfit from every possible angle. Positioned in the middle of the room was a large, red padded ottoman directly in front of the mirrors presumably to allow a person to relax in their new outfit while still checking themselves out.

The lingerie Regina had picked out was sexier than anything I'd ever slept in, and as I held the first one up in front of me, I couldn't help but admit that it was nicer than the shorts and T-shirt I usually wore to bed. I slipped out of my jersey dress and slid the white silk lingerie over my head. It shimmied down my body until the hem just touched the floor, and when I looked at how it hung on me, I silently wondered if those high-heel slippers with feathers on top and a long cigarette holder were requirements to wear it.




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