Passion's Fury (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 2) (26 page)

“Kylie.  I’m so sorry to hear about the fire.  Is that how you got injured?”  Sharon indicated Kylie’s sock-covered feet.

“Yes, I walked on some broken glass.  Hopefully Dr. McKay will tell me on Thursday that they’re all healed, ’cause I’ve got big plans.”  She grinned up at the man standing behind her chair.  “I’m going to learn how to two-step at the Icebox Saturday night.”

Sharon laughed.  “Is Ash going to teach you?”

“Simon.  Ash and Caleb will be playing in the band.”

“Oh, Simon’s a great dancer, Kylie.  You’ll have the best time!  But let’s get you outfitted.”  She gestured toward her right.  “If you’ll just follow me…” She led the way over to a large ante-room that contained several racks of dresses.  “You have a flawless complexion, Kylie,” Sharon said as they approached the first rack.  “And with that wonderful, dark hair, you can wear anything, but I think bright colors would suit you best.”

Kylie cast a doubtful look at the array of colorful dresses.  “Are you sure you have my size.”

Sharon laughed.  “Oh, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.  Ash, why don’t you wheel Kylie into the dressing room and I’ll bring in a nice selection for your approval.”  Five minutes later, she walked in with an armload of dresses to see Kylie sitting on Ash’s lap.  His hand was caressing her abdomen beneath her T-shirt, his mouth was busy exploring the territory around her ear, making her squirm and shiver with delight.  Sharon smiled, hanging the dresses on a high hook.  A tape measure was draped around her neck.  “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but it’s time for me to take Kylie’s measurements and time for her to try on dresses.  Ash, are you going to stay in here while we do that?”

“Does a bear sleep in the woods?”  He slid Kylie off his lap to sit on the padded bench by herself.  He sat in her wheel chair, his left foot on the foot rest, his right ankle crossed over his knee.  Sharon had Kylie strip so she could take her measurements, jotting down the numbers in a spiral notebook.

Then she helped Kylie try on dozens of dresses that displayed her voluptuous figure to perfection.  She also tried on lingerie in luscious colors, trimmed with lace and ribbons, feathers and flowers.  Very frilly and feminine and more glamorous than anything Kylie had ever owned.  They made her feel as beautiful as her men kept insisting she was.

She selected several of her favorite dresses, some bra and pantie sets and a sinfully sexy black satin negligee with lace trim, and set them aside for purchase.  Fingering the delicate lace trim, she didn’t see the silent exchange between Sharon and Ash.  The young woman picked up Kylie’s choices while Ash picked up Kylie and put her back in her wheel chair. 

“I’ll take these up to the register,” Sharon offered, preceding them out of the dressing room.  “Ash, why don’t you take Kylie over to pick out some jewelry?  We have some pieces that will go very nicely with these dresses.”  She indicated a display counter and several racks over in one corner.  “I’ll be over to help you in just a minute.”  As soon as Ash wheeled Kylie over to the area Sharon had indicated, she ducked back into the dressing room, grabbed all the rest of the items Kylie had tried on and hustled them over to the check-out counter.  “Quickly, Joyce,” she urged the young woman standing behind the cash register talking to Granny Grace.  “You need to get these wrapped and out of sight.  Mr. Rafferty wants all of this to be a surprise.”

“I’ll remove the price tags while you fold and bag,” Granny Grace offered.  “That way we can ring them up later.”  The two women worked quickly and by the time Ash wheeled Kylie up with several necklaces in her hand, five elegant pink shopping bags with “Granny Grace’s Tea Shoppe and Toy Emporium” embossed in silver on the sides, were lined up on top of the counter.

While Joyce took Ash’s credit card and rang up the jewelry, Kylie and Ash chatted with Sharon and Granny Grace.  Then Sharon picked up all the bags and carried them out to the Humvee, stowing them in the back seat, while Ash first stowed Kylie in the passenger seat, then the wheelchair in the rear compartment.

As soon as Ash started the car, Kylie lowered her window.  “Thanks, Sharon.”

“Any time, Kylie.  Enjoy your new clothes.  You look beautiful in them.”

“Thanks.”

“You do, you know,” Ash added as he backed out of the space and pulled out of the parking lot onto Main Street.  “Look beautiful, I mean.  But don’t go by me.  I think you’d look beautiful in a potato sack.”

“Now there’s a visual,” Kylie teased.

They entered the business district with its wide, park-like median, and drove right past Katie’s Barbecue before pulling into a parking space farther down the block.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought you would like to see Leah’s gallery,” Ash said.  “She called earlier and asked if she could stop by later on today and drop off her shoebox full of receipts and invoices, so you could start on gettin’ her sorted out.  I told her we’d pick them up.”

“Oh, I hope that’s a joke,” Kylie muttered.  “The bit about the shoebox, I mean.”

Ash chuckled.  “Knowin’ Leah, it probably isn’t.”  He exited the car, retrieved the wheel chair, and opened Kylie’s door.  When he lifted her from the passenger seat, she put her arms around the strong column of his neck and buried her face against it, breathing in his citrusy after shave.  “Have I told you today how much I love you?”  Her voice was soft, slightly breathless.

“I believe it came up once or twice, earlier this morning,” he teased.  “While I was busy eatin’ your pussy.  But you can tell me as many times as you want, because it’s something I’ll never get tired of hearin’.  And just for the record, baby, I love you, too.  I plan to spend the rest of my life showin’ you just how much.

She lifted her head and he claimed her lips in a kiss that seared her soul.  Her blood heated. Her pulses raced.  Sparks of electricity skittered across her skin like short-circuiting electrical wires.  When he finally drew back his head, his eyes were so dark with lust they were black with just a tiny rim of blue.  She was having difficulty breathing.  Her tongue came out to gather his taste from her lips and bring it inside her mouth.  He groaned at the lascivious gesture.  His cock was so hard he was cross-eyed.  “Jesus, baby, where did you learn to kiss like that?”

“Madame Zelda’s Kissing Academy and Finishing School for Proper Young Ladies,” she said primly.

He laughed and deposited her in the wheel chair.  “Well, all I can say is, Madame Zelda sure knows her stuff.”

“She’s the best,” Kylie agreed.

The interior of Leah’s gallery was cool and dark with subtle lighting showcasing the many items on display.  Everything was a work of art made from manipulated fabric.  Wall hangings, unique fabric sculptures, baskets, bowls, jewelry.  Flowing gowns, glamorous coats and jackets, dresses, scarves, hats.  All were either pleated, crazy-quilted, tie-dyed, or hand-painted, and embellished with stamped designs, beads, shells and an amazing variety of found objects. 

Ash stood with his arms folded across his chest, watching Kylie as she slowly wheeled herself around the room, stopping to admire every exhibit.  Leah came out of her office and went over to Ash.  She grabbed his arm and hugged it.  “I’m so happy for you guys.  Looks like you’ve found your lifetime sub.”

‘Yeah.  She told us last night that she loves us.”

“It shows on her face.  And on yours every time you look at her.”

He wrenched his gaze from Kylie to look down at the petite blond woman standing next to him.  “Is it that obvious?”

“Uh, yeah,” she sing-songed.  “But don’t worry.”  She patted his arm reassuringly.  “I’m sure nobody else will notice.”

He might have believed her if she hadn’t chosen that particular moment to snort.

He just grinned.  “Yeah, it’s safe to say we’re completely gone on her.”

“Trust me, she feels the same way,” Leah confided.  “Hi, Kylie,” she said as Kylie rolled up to them.  “See anything you like?”

“Hi, Leah.  Pretty much everything.  Your displays are so gorgeous.  Did you make all of them yourself?”

“A lot of them are mine.  I have several other artists I showcase, one who does all the hand-painted silk, one who does all the crazy-quilting and beading, one who makes all the ribbon and beaded jewelry, yet another who does the Shibori—that’s the ancient Japanese technique of tie-dying.  Much softer and prettier than batik, in my opinion.  She’s from New York, but she travels around to all the galleries who showcase her work and gives demonstrations.  You’ll have to come to the next one.  It’s in three months.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.  There’s one scarf over there in the case…the one that looks like you’re underwater looking up at the sun?”

“Ah, yes, I know exactly which one you mean.”

  Oh, my God, it’s exquisite.  Is that hand-painted?”

“No, that’s Shibori.  Let me get it for you so you can feel it.  It’s to die for.  Haha, no pun intended.”  She went over to the case and brought the scarf back to Leah, dumping it in her lap.  Leah touched it reverently.  The fabric was so soft, so ethereal, it felt as if she were touching air.  It was died in shimmering ripples of color, in varying shades of blue, turquoise, and pale lavender that glowed as if back-lit by the sun.  They had just bought at least three dresses at Granny Grace’s that this scarf would enhance to perfection.  But it was three hundred and twenty-five dollars, way too pricey for her budget.  “I-it’s so gorgeous.  Thanks for letting me hold it.”  With a sigh of regret, she handed it back to Leah, but it was Ash who took it out of her hand.  “Were there any others you liked, baby?”

Actually, there were.  One in particular that had crystalline pleats with a pattern of starbursts in shades of raspberry, purple, and gold with random bits of blue.  “Ash, no.  They’re too expensive.”

“Which ones?” he persisted.

Leah laughed.  “Oh, my God, you Doms are all alike.  A word to the wise, Kylie?  When your Doms want to buy you something, just let them.  Because they’re going to do it anyway, and arguing will only get you punished.  Pick your battles, sweetie.”

“Well, okay, then,” Kylie relented with a rueful shake of her head.  Ash was already pushing her back toward the scarf case, Leah right behind them.  “There were a couple more, actually.  And a couple of those gorgeous pendants.”

“Yes, these are exquisite, aren’t they?” Leah asked, unlocking the case, the expression on her face one of pure joy.  She lifted one out, a peach-shaped heart made with variegated peach silk ribbon and peach and yellow beads.  “They’re made with Shibori ribbon.  The woman who does them for us is in her seventies and lives in Arizona.  She’ll be thrilled that you like her work.”

“I love her work.  I’ve never seen anything like them before.”  All in all, Kylie picked three scarves and two beaded ribbon pendants, one a turquoise seashell, the other the peach-colored heart.  She watched Ash hand the items to Leah, along with his credit card, biting her lip as the total went up and up and up.  He had already spent a fortune on her today and hadn’t even blinked.  Now he was spending another obscene amount.  As a person who was one of the multitudes of people living from paycheck to paycheck, she had never been able to just walk into a store and buy whatever she wanted, hang the cost.  She’d always had to budget ahead, wait for sales, pick which one of three or four would give her the most bang for her buck.  The thought that she’d never have to do that again filled her with a momentary euphoria, which she ruthlessly tamped down.  Her needs were modest.  And she was determined to keep them that way.  She would have to be very careful not to abuse the generosity of her three men.

“Thanks, Ash.”  Leah handed him the packages and his card.  “Kylie, I can’t wait to see you wearing them.  I know, wear one of your scarves to the rehearsal dinner on Thursday night.  The first one you picked would be absolutely gorgeous with the dress you wore to tea on Monday.”

She looked up at Ash.  “We’re going to the rehearsal dinner?”

“Well, since Caleb and Simon are ushers, and I’m the official photographer, it would behoove us to know what’s expected of us so we don’t behave like ignorant louts.”

“Ya think?”

Leah laughed.  “It’s going to be at the restaurant at Marshall’s Hill.  That’s Sarah, Adam, and Jesse’s Bed and Breakfast.  It’s dressy casual, so the turquoise will be perfect.  Are you ready to take a look at my books?  And I use the term loosely.  More like scraps of paper in a box.”

She reached under the counter, brought out a shoe box, and plunked it down on top of the counter.  Okay, it was more like a box for photos or recipes or something, but still.  Kylie lifted the lid with one finger as if she expected snakes to spring out at her.  It was stuffed with sales slips, cash register slips, invoices, and God knew what else.

“Okay.  I’m going to have to sort through these, separate income from expenditures, put them in chronological order, blah blah blah.  I have an excellent accounting program on my computer that’s guaranteed to keep your information safe.  Or, if you prefer, I can do it the old-fashioned way, writing the entries by hand into a ledger.”

“The computer is fine.”

“I’ll need your banking information.”

“It’s in there along with everything else.”

Kylie nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll get started on this tonight.”

“Thanks, Kylie.  You’re a godsend, you really are.  I’ll pay you handsomely, of course.”