She squared her shoulders; she was done with men who didn’t like her. “I need a feel-good dress but not too much ofa splash.”
Gavin huffed in mock exasperation. “You women are so backward in coming forward. What’s wrong with makinga splash?”
“Men don’t like it all offered on a plate,” Philippa told Gavin.
“Trust me, sweetie, I know all about men. Theyloveit offered ona plate.”
Millie grinned. “I want to look good, but it’s a business dinner, not a date.”
“Who said you have to be on a date to dress well?” Gavin knitted his eyebrows at her reflection in the mirror. “Can’t you just enjoy being sexy?”
Good point. Did Ogre George like a sexy dress? Did he deserve “sexy”?
She shook her head.It’s not about him. It’s not about what he deserves. It’s about what I deserve.She repeated the words silently, hoping to convince herself.
“Okay, I’ve got it, darling. Understated elegance but”—he winked—“with potential.” Gavin must have read her face like a book.
Millie giggled.
A few minutes later he came back with what looked like a wisp of pale-pistachio silk. “When in doubt,go maxi.”
Maxi?What was he talking about? The amount of fabric he had over his arm looked barely enough for a miniskirt. But Philippa shushed her and shuffled her into the dressing room, drawing the curtain firmly on her.
Alone, in front of the full-length mirror, she undressed and pulled the gossamer-fine silk over her head. It slid around her chest and kept sliding as if a mile of fabric had been hiding in the folds and now fell all the way to her ankles. She smoothed her hands over her hips and looked in the mirror; then her mouthfell open.
The halter-neck dress had a deep V-neckline that plunged down to the high waist. Then, a waterfall of soft golden-green silk draped her figure and gave her a mermaid silhouette. She turned slightly to right, then left. Was thisreallyherfigure?
She stepped out of the dressing room to where Gavin and Philippa were waiting.
“I can’t wear this. It’s not right, I am going for dinner with my boss and in this, I look—I don’t look right—I mean I should—I don’t think I should look like—”
“You look stunning.” Gavin put an end to her stammering.
“It’s just that…” She leaned over to Philippa and whispered, “If it’s an air-conditioned restaurant, everybody will see mynipples.”
“Got you.” Philippa turned to Gavin. “What abouta shawl?”
“Ahead of you, darl.” He came over and draped a large pearl-cream fringed shawl over Millie.
“See?” He wrapped it so it covered all but the tops of her arms and her collarbones. “Demure.” He pulled it so it hung over one shoulder only.“Allure.”
“Or affaire d’amour,” he said as he pulled it off her with aflourish.
Millie watched herself in the mirror.
The dress was completely unsuitable for her life on the island. There would be no other occasion to wear it.Like a spinster buying sexy lingerie.But the feel of the silk on her skin was like heaven. It whispered against her thighs when she moved. As for the colour, a rich golden—what did Gavin call it? Oh yes, “pistachio”—the colour made her skin glow a warm bronze.
The dress was beautiful. She wanted to stand there looking at herself in it all day and all night. But the plunging neckline exposed a great deal more thanit should.
No.
Anyway, she needed to hurry if she wanted to catch the five o’clock ferry. A black dress or a tailored suit would be better. Less controversial than this silk ghost that kissed her skin. She made a move back towards the dressing room to take off the beautiful creation, regret already darkening the day.
“You look beautiful, sexy and sophisticated.” Philippa stopped her. “Why shouldn’t youwear it?”
Millie closed her eyes, and her mind whispered,Don’t do it.Henry would laugh. Remember what he said. You’re not sexy like other women.
She opened her eyes. “Fine, I’ll take it.Withthe shawl. And,” she told Philippa, “I need a plunging bra with an invisible halter strap. I’m not having my breasts fall out every time I leanforward.”
