“I mean try it on,” I quickly retreated. “You try it on.”
Jeez, some people just have a one track mind. Usually men. And usually the same track.
“You’re welcome to join me.” He flashed that cocky grin as he slipped past me, grabbing the coat and heading for the three-way mirror.
“Just try the coat on, Elliot.”
I barely managed to twist out of the way as he reached to pinch my backside. I was getting faster.
“You know,” he said as he shrugged the coat onto his broad shoulders, “I’ve always had a trench coat fantasy. It never involved having to pay for one.”
He tightened the belt around his lean waist, tugging it into a knot and turning for inspection.
“As a matter of fact, it never involved me wearing the coat.” His smile turned seductive. “But I’m always open to adaptation.”
Stepping closer, I brushed at the shoulders of the coat, smoothing out the wrinkles across the yoke and down the arms. Phelps was only inches away.
Before I could stop myself, I stood on my tip-toes and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth. “You’re a good guy, Phelps Elliot,” I whispered before pulling back and proclaiming, “The coat looks good.”
“I’m not that good,” he returned. His hands gripped my shoulders and crushed me to him in a heart-stopping kiss.
I was instantly on fire and devouring. His mouth opened, urging mine open to let him in. As his hot, hard lips pressed furiously into mine, I clutched at him, slipping my hands beneath the brushed canvas trench to sculpt his muscles with my palms.
One masculine hand pressed into my lower back, sending my body into full contact with his. I felt something cold at my back and distantly registered that he had backed me up against a mirror.
Unfortunately it was a freestanding mirror that started to topple the instant I leaned back.
With quicker reaction time than mine, Phelps wrapped one arm around my waist to hold me up while catching the tumbling mirror with the other.
“That was fast,” I breathed.
“Too fast,” he answered, dipping his head to resume our interrupted kiss.
But sanity returned. We were in the middle of Bradford’s outerwear on important shopping business—to some extent—and he was not only my hire-a-date, but was also several years my junior. One lapse in judgment with dismissible. Two was a pattern. Three would be a habit.
I held him off with a hand to his chest. “We’d better pay for this and get out of here. I have work to do.”
Not really. Ferrero was busy this week with preparations for Milan. Kelly had my job and with it all my responsibilities. Still, I felt I should make a showing, to remind everyone that I still worked there.
The last thing I needed at this point was someone cleaning out my desk.
“You can’t hide forever, Lyd.” His voice purred as he caressed a finger down my cheek. “There’s a heat between us and someday we will find out how hot it can be.”
My mouth went dry.
I backed away slowly, my eyes locked on his, unable to look away.
“Lydia,” he began and reached out, “don’t—”
I hastily stepped back.
Right into the mirror.
The elegant gilded frame fell to the floor with and echoing crash.