Various States of Undress: Virginia (31 page)

“You guessed it. Good job, Rusty.” When he narrowed his eyes, she giggled.

“Chanel makes flip-flops?” Dex asked.

“Of course,” answered Virginia and Ruston simultaneously.

“I ordered a whole bunch of them, Dex, don't you remember?” she asked.

When he shrugged, she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I'm assuming that in the future, since you
own
the place now, you'll be more interested in the details, am I right?”

“Yes. I promise,” he said, and he meant it.

Ruston cleared his throat. “You—own Lilah's?”

“Granddad sold it to me.” When Ruston gave him an anxious look, Dex took him by the shoulders. “There's no reason to be worried. You'll stay on as manager, right?”

“If you'll have me,” Ruston answered.

“We couldn't function without you,” Virginia said.

“That's true since I figured out where the stock was sent,” Ruston said. “I took it upon myself to do some investigating and found that Miss Cameron sent it to a facility in New Jersey. Because I didn't know what was going to happen with Lilah's remodel, I didn't do anything about it, and it's still sitting there. I hope you'll forgive me for taking those decisions upon myself.”

Dex glanced at Virginia, who was trying not to smile. “Do we forgive him?” he asked.

“We do,” she answered and smacked Ruston on the shoulder. “Rusty, you're a rebel. I like it.” Her eyes got big. “Ooh. New nickname—Rusty the Rebel. What do you think?”

“I . . . like the rebel part,” Ruston muttered.

“Nice.” Virginia gave him a hug, and, after a moment, he patted her on the back. “Now go call whoever you need to call and get my precious clothes and accessories back here,” she said.

“I have a better idea.” Ruston stepped back and tapped his chin. “It's still early—we could shut the store, and then we'd have hours to work. Of course, we'd have to work through the night, but if Mr. Cameron would take care of spreading the word, I think we would have quite the thing tomorrow.”

What the hell was he talking about? Dex frowned. “Are you all right, Ruston?”

Suddenly, Virginia gasped. “Oh, it's a great idea! I'll call the contractors. They'll probably charge us massive amounts of money for overtime, but it's worth it.” She turned to Dex, her eyes sparkling. “A stealth grand opening of the new Lilah's. Tomorrow.”

“What? Are you two nuts?” Dex shook his head. “That completely flies in the face of good advertising. We don't have a campaign. We don't have a central image for the campaign. We don't have—”

“We don't have time to think about all the why nots,” Virginia interrupted. She held up a finger. “Advertising—free. Create a flash mob via Twitter.” She held up another finger. “Lilah's new motto—For the Young in Spirit. That's all you need for a campaign. Make it a hashtag, a Facebook post, put it on the website. Use the media for all it's worth.” She laughed. “They kind of deserve to be used, if you ask me.”

A slow smile crept onto Dex's face. “And what about the image?”

“I have something in mind,” Virginia answered, smiling back. “I'll take care of it.”

“Uh-oh.” Dex sighed. “So we're really doing this?”

She nodded. “Think about this for a moment. What would your grandmother do?”

Dex's mind immediately went to the photo of her at eighteen—a world of possibility in her laughing eyes. She wouldn't even hesitate. So he wouldn't either.

He grinned at Virginia. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She started toward him, but Ruston stepped in the way.

“Uh-uh,” he said. “Let's get busy.”

“The rebel has spoken,” Dex said. “Should we listen to him?”

“We should.” Virginia leaned up over Ruston's head and kissed Dex anyway.

His heart soared.

Chapter Seventeen

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
, not long after dawn, Virginia crept into her office and hung two outfits, one for her, and one for Dex, on a coatrack. She closed the door softly and tiptoed over to Dex, who lay sprawled on her sofa, his mouth open. His laptop lay on the floor next to him, and she eased it out of the way. Trying not to giggle, she leaned down and let her hair brush across his lips. When he twitched, she did it again.

A second later, his hand closed over her wrist. “Stop that,” he said sleepily.

“Make me,” she whispered.

He pulled her down on top of him. “Make love to me,” he whispered back.

“I might.” She gazed down at him affectionately. “How long were you on Twitter last night?”

“Until three in the morning. We have eight hundred new followers.” He slipped his hand inside her paint-stained T-shirt. His fingers rubbed against the front clasp of her bra. “Did you finish the window display?”

“Yes.” She unbuckled his belt. “There's a shower in the bathroom in your office, right?”

He raised his eyebrows and unsnapped her bra. “Yes.”

“Did you finish hanging up the men's suits and fold the . . . the . . . ohhh.” She shivered as his hands closed around her breasts.

He chuckled. “Did you lock the door?”

“Mmm. And Muscles is all the way down by the . . . elevator . . .” She gasped as his tongue swirled around a nipple. “Reading . . . the paper.”

“No more questions,” Dex whispered.

He slid her shirt up and off, and then tugged at her shorts. She stood up, stepped out of them, and reached for his hand to pull him to his feet. His jeans came off, her panties next, and—a moment later—they were standing skin to skin, her arms around his neck. His fingers grazed up and down her back, finally resting low on her hips. She looked into his clear green eyes, and he smiled at her.

Then his hands went lower, brushing the backs of her thighs as he bent down and lifted her. He carried her a few steps to the sofa, laid her head down on the armrest, and knelt on the cushions between her thighs. She reached for him, pulling him close, loving the feel of his warm, broad chest beneath her palms. Her hands drifted lower, over his taut belly, and lower still until she closed her fingers around him.

She watched as he drew in a sharp breath, as his chest rose and fell. And then she let her thighs fall apart a little farther. With a groan, Dex lifted her hips, and she guided him closer and closer until, with one slow, smooth thrust, he buried himself inside of her, his fingers tight around her hips. Her mouth dropped open at the fullness of him, and when he drew back and thrust again, sliding into her wet heat, she arched up, reaching for him. Her fingers found his shoulders, and Dex shifted, pulling her up, settling her onto his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder and rocked against him—once, twice—and then he spoke into her ear, his voice a raspy whisper.

“Open your eyes,” he said, his arms circling around her back. She lifted her head and met his adoring gaze. He began to move then, his eyes never wavering, though they slid half closed with pleasure. Virginia watched his desire build as she matched his achingly slow rhythm, her breaths shorter and shorter as bliss unspooled deep within her. He quickened the pace, and that bliss spread throughout every inch of her body, every bit of her consciousness, until it burst into light; she threw her head back as waves of exquisite pleasure coursed through her. She felt Dex's lips bury against the crook of her neck, and his low, quiet moan mingled with hers, the sound reverberating against her throat.

He held her like that for a long moment, his heart hammering against hers, both of them clinging to the other, as one. Eventually she relaxed against him, her body sagging, and she returned her head to his shoulder, smiling against his skin as he dropped a lingering kiss to her temple. “Oh, Dex,” she said.

“Mmm,” he replied. “Good morning.”

“Does it have to be morning yet?”

“It was morning when you got here, sweetheart. The sun is up.”

She lifted her head and turned toward the window, squinting. “Ow.” Then she turned back to him, a tired smile on her face. “I bet I look pretty awful, huh?”

He gave her a once over. “How do I answer that without getting smacked?”

“You tell me that I'm gorgeous and invite me to take a shower with you.”

Dex grinned and gently lifted her away until she stood in front of him, her legs wobbly. “Come on, gorgeous. You have pink paint on your face. And . . .” He ran a thumb along her jaw. “I think that might be dried-on mustard.”

“What?” She slapped a hand against her cheek. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“You seduced me. I'm not going to let condiments get in the way of that.”

Virginia threw her head back and laughed, pushing him away when he reached for her shaking breasts. “Get dressed and let's sneak down to your office.”

“Fine.” Dex sighed, but did as she asked. A half hour later, he stood next to her desk, his hair still wet as she adjusted his tie. “You didn't dress me like a hipster,” he said, a marveling note to his voice.

“I wouldn't do that.” She stepped back and twirled in front of him, catching the light, airy folds of her red sundress in her hands. “What do you think?”

“So beautiful,” he said. “And you're mine. I can hardly believe it.”

“Believe it, Dex. I'm yours for as long as you'll put up with me,” she replied.

He reached out and caught her hand. “Then you're stuck.”

“Come on. I want to show you everything before we open.” Laughing, Virginia pulled him into the hallway and toward the elevator. Muscles sat in a folding chair, a paper resting on his lap. “Good morning,” he said, reaching behind his head to punch the elevator button. “Look.” He flipped the paper up and smiled. “Charlie made the front page of the
Post
.”

Virginia stared down at a photo of her and Dex standing on the sidewalk in front of Duane Reade, locked in an embrace. Her clothes looked hideous and there was a big kink in the back of her hair, but her flip-flops looked amazing. She was smiling under Dex's kiss, and his hands were curled possessively around her hips. Next to them, his arms spread wide, was Charlie, his mouth a grim line. “Awesome. Good for Silent. I know he's always secretly wanted to be a celebrity.”

“At least somebody does,” Dex said.

Muscles chuckled and stood up as the elevator arrived and then helped Eddie pull back the gate. “Big day, Eddie,” Virginia said as she stepped inside.

“The biggest,” he agreed. “Already got a line around the block. And those reporters? Rusty tells me they've been setting up outside since five in the morning. I've never seen that at Lilah's before. Never.” He winked at Virginia. “Thank you.”

She felt a blush spreading across her face. “You're welcome. I hope you have fun today.”

“I'll have stories to tell for weeks, I'm sure.”

“Me too,” Dex muttered and leaned to the side as Virginia elbowed him.

When the elevator arrived, she clapped her hands over his eyes. “Don't look yet.”

“Okay.” He put his hands out in front of him and let her guide him into the lobby.

She stopped for a moment and just looked. All the clerks, including Doris, were standing in a row by the drooping potted plants near the elevator. In place of smocks, they wore funky peasant tops. She grinned at them, and then her gaze swept over the clustered displays of colorful bags, shoes, and clothes. Each area featured a mannequin on top of an old display case, and, at Virginia's urging, Ruston had taken the responsibility of dressing each one. They were fabulous, edgy, and even a little bit provocative.

“Can I look now?” Dex asked.

She let out a long breath. “Yes, but look exactly where I'm pointing, first.” Slowly she removed her hand from his eyes and pointed above the front door at the giant framed photo of Lilah Cameron standing in Times Square, holding the American flags. Right above the photo were the words “Lilah's—Be Young in Spirit.”

Virginia glanced at Dex, who looked up for a long time. He swallowed and then turned to her, a sheen in his eyes. “Thank you. How did you . . . ?”

“It's New York City, Dex. You can get anything, anytime—even oversized posters in the middle of the night.” She laughed, her voice slightly choked up. “I put Stacey on it.”

“I rocked it too,” said Stacey, who sashayed forward in sky-high heels. “Oh, and by the way, Virginia told me I could work here now.”

“She did?” Dex turned to Virginia with a raised eyebrow.

“Head buyer,” Virginia said. “She'll be amazing.”

“Woot!” Stacey did a little dance move.

“Then what does that make you?” Dex asked.

“General manager.” She grinned. “And Ruston is the store manager. And you . . .”

“Yes?”

“You're the CEO.”

When Dex groaned, she pulled him forward, laughing. “Fun, huh?”

“Mmm. But I think the joke's on you, sweetheart. Stacey and Ruston working together? Have a ball, general manager.”

She groaned and then turned when she heard the unmistakable sound of Ruston impatiently clearing his throat. “Hi, Rebel,” she said weakly.

“Hello.” He glared at her and then looked at her outfit. “That's lovely.”

“Thanks.”

Ruston sniffed. “Mister Cameron, I have that item you requested.”

“Good.” Dex stepped in front of Virginia, blocking her view. When he turned around and faced her, he reached out his hand. “Come with me.”

“Okay.” She allowed him to lead her to one of the display tables. “What are we doing?” Dex pushed merchandise aside and lifted her onto the table.

He smiled at her nervously and then dropped to his knees and slid his hand into a coat pocket. He fumbled for a few seconds, and then something small and sparkly dropped onto the marble floor. He snatched it up, turned it in his hands, and held it in front of her like an offering. It was a brilliant diamond ring.