"I can't stomach the idea of something happening to you." Miller softens his touch.
"I hit my head," I repeat again. "I'm clumsy. No one hurt me." I hate lying to him but I can't tell him the truth. One: because I have no idea how he'll react and two: I don't want to put him in danger.
"Did you go to the doctor? What if you have a concussion?"
"Miller," I say, my voice stern. "I'm fine. Now let's get out of here."
"I had something else I wanted to do before I took you home." He nods ahead to the direction London disappeared into.
"What?"
"Come on." He offers me his hand and my body reacts without my mind telling it to, my fingers sliding into his.
"Where are we going?"
Miller winks and tugs me toward the area full of designer stores. "Shopping."
I follow along but know there's no way I can afford a single thing in any of those stores.
"You lost your purse. I want to get you a new one. Oh, here’s your phone.”
I side-eye him and take my cell, sliding it into my back pocket. "It was like a fifteen-dollar bag, Miller."
"Then all the reason to get a new one." He pauses at the entrance of the open area.
Prada. Gucci. Chanel. Dior. Yves Saint Laurent. Tom Ford. You name it, if it's designer, this place has it.
"Isn't there a Target or something?" I ask him.
"Cora..." He tugs me into the area that I've only ever window-shopped in.
Most of these stores are appointment only and even if they did allow walk-ins, they'd be able to sniff out my broke ass within seconds and probably throw me out.
"What about this?" He points to Dior, my eyes trailing over the bags displayed in the front.
They're beautiful, but there's no way in hell I'm letting him get me one.
"Or this?" He motions to YSL. "Those look like your style."
But what actually makes me stop in my tracks is the Alexander McQueen store.
There, right in the window, are bags with what appears to be brass knuckles built into the handle.
"You like those?" Miller waits patiently next to me. "We can go in and check them out."
I shake my head even though every single one of them is absolutely perfect.
"Humor me," he says and releases my hand to put his on the small of my back.
I allow him mainly because I've never been inside this store before and if anyone is going to make it happen, it's him. Miller has this aura about him that makes it seem like everyone around him thinks he walks on water. It's sexy how much he's respected.
"Good evening, sir," a bubbly clerk greets him immediately, her eyes not once looking at me. "What can I help you with?"
"We're just looking, thank you," he tells her and guides me over to the selection of bags that drew my attention.
The little girl in me squeals with excitement but I keep it together. My fingers twitch to reach out and touch the bags, and even though I thought I was hiding my interest, Miller picks up on it.
"You like this one?" He grabs a shiny black bag with glittering knuckles without a care in the world that it probably costs more than all the money I have saved.
