Come Lie With Me - Linda Howard [44]
The Phoenix heat prompted her to wear the bare minimum of clothing: a white sundress; the necessary underwear, which wasn’t much; and strappy sandals. The weeks had slipped away, taking the summer with it, but the changing season wasn’t yet reflected by any dip in the temperature. When she went downstairs to meet Serena, Blake gave her a quick comprehensive look that seemed to take inventory of every garment she had on. Dione shivered at the fleeting expression in his eyes. He knew what she looked like now, and every time he saw her he was imagining her without any clothes. She should probably be glad, as that was what she wanted, but it still made her uneasy.
Serena drove, as Dione knew absolutely nothing about Scottsdale or Phoenix. The pale blue Cadillac slipped as silently as oiled silk past the array of expensive millionaires’ homes that decorated Mount Camelback. Overhead, a sparkle of silver in the pure blue of the sky, one of the innumerable jets from the air bases in the Phoenix area, painted a white streak directly above their path.
“Blake said you had shopping to do,” Serena said absently. “What sort of shopping? Not that it matters; if it exists, I know a shop that carries it.”
Dione gave her a wry glance. “Everything,” she admitted. “Dresses, underwear, sleepwear, bathing suits.”
Serena arched her slim, dark brows in an astonished movement. “All right,” she said slowly. “You asked for it.”
By the time they’d had lunch several hours later, Dione firmly believed that Serena knew the location of every shop in Arizona. They had been in so many that she couldn’t keep straight just where she had bought what, but that didn’t really matter. What mattered was the steadily growing mound of bags and packages, which they made regular trips to the car to stow in the trunk.
Dione systematically tried on dresses that made the most of her dark coloring and tall, leggy build. She bought skirts that were slit up the side to showcase her long, slender legs; she bought real silk hosiery and delicate shoes. The nightgowns she chose were filmy, flimsy pieces of fabric that were held on her body more by optimism than any other means. She bought sexy lace panties and bras, wickedly seductive teddies, shorts and T-shirts that clung to her body, and a couple of bikinis that stopped just short of illegal.
Serena watched all of this in amazed silence, offering her opinion whenever Dione asked it, which was often. Dione couldn’t quite decide if a garment was sexy without being blatant, so she yielded to Serena’s taste. It was Serena who chose the bikinis, one a delicate shell pink and the other a vibrant blue, both of which glowed like jewels on Dione’s honey-tanned body.
“You know,” Serena mused as she watched Dione choose a skin-toned teddy that, from a distance, made her look as if she had nothing on at all, “this looks like war.”
Dione was feeling a little frantic and out of touch by that time, and she merely gave Serena a blank look.
“I could almost pity Blake for being the target of such firepower,” the other woman continued, laughing a little. “Almost, but not quite. From the effort you’re making, Dione, I think you’re out for unconditional surrender. Are you in love with Blake?”
That got Dione’s attention with the force of a punch in the jaw. In love? Of course not! It was impossible. Blake was her patient; falling in love with him would be against every professional ethic that she had. Not only that, how could she be in love with him? Couldn’t Serena see that it was totally out of the question? she wondered distractedly. It was just that Blake’s was such a demanding case. She’d rebuilt him almost literally, molded him from a basket case into a strong, healthy man; she couldn’t let him give up now, couldn’t let all of that sweat and effort go to waste.
But suddenly, seeing through Serena’s eyes the staggering amount of clothing she’d bought in one day, she realized what a hopeless effort it was. How could she ever