‘Puppy dog eyes?’
‘Esatto.He is the puppy dog, and you are his treat. His eyes follow you into a room, then out again. He looks you up and down, then stares at your face, your smile, your hands when you work. You are his object of desire.Ti desidera. It’s comforting to know that doesn’t change after marriage.’
Sarah’s limbs suddenly felt light, and her fingers found a restless energy.
Margherita held up a few items that had caught her attention.
Sarah shook her head. ‘No. None of that is right for your wedding night.’ She waved them off, collecting a very simple balconette bra in cream satin which would convert to a strapless – a perfect match for Margherita’s wedding dress. Hanging beside the size range of the bra were a few options for matching underwear. Sarah turned her head and mentally sized up Margherita’s bottom and thighs. Margherita went to select a narrow G-string, but Sarah flicked her hands away. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘È sexy, no?’
‘This is your wedding night, Marghe.Wed-ding night. You’re not going clubbing in a mini-skirt and heels.’ Margherita giggled and returned the pair to the rack. ‘Here. This is what you need.’ Sarah handed her a pair of delicate French-cut underwear. The front panel was the same cream satin as the bra and the rest was made of matching cream lace. ‘Simple, elegant and still very sexy. Are you a one or a two?’
‘One. Up and down, remember?’
Sarah found her size and followed her to the fitting room. Saskia was in tow, and tied back the fitting room’s black velour curtain.
‘I want to see it on you,’ Sarah said, now flicking through the remainder of the collection. She could hear Margherita chatting with Saskia, who had set about adjusting her bra’s clasp for a perfect fit around her petite frame.
Sarah’s attention was caught by a red lace top and bottom set. The bra’s cups were an open-weave lace with no padding, which left nothing to the imagination. Across the top of the cups, the lace scalloped delicately and Sarah ran her fingers over it. It tickled. She was immediately in love. Flicking through the options in matching bottoms, she sized up the G-string and a French-cut, similar to the one Margherita was trying on. Settling on the higher-top French-cut, which she guessed would sit just below her belly button, she selected her sizes and made herself comfortable in the fitting room opposite Margherita’s.
‘I’m just trying something on, Marghe,’ she called out, and she could hear Saskia commenting on the excellent fit of the bra. ‘How’s it going for you?’
‘Perfetto!’ came the reply. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Give me thirty seconds . . .’ Sarah looked at herself in the mirror. The set looked phenomenal on her. The red took on deep cherry tones against her fair skin, which contrasted against the blonde highlights in her mousy brown hair and the pinkish tan of her nipples. The bottoms sat perfectly on the crest of her hips, accentuating her toned legs. She turned to inspect the rear view in the mirror behind her, delighted by how the lace rounded her peach-shaped bottom.
‘Ok, you first,’ Sarah said, popping her head around the fitting room curtain, keeping herself concealed.
Margherita stood there in her perfect cream set, looking both feminine and elegant. ‘Che ne pensi?’ she asked, looking a combination of both hopeful and vulnerable.
Saskia, sensing the intimacy of the moment, gave them some privacy.
‘Marghe, you look so incredibly beautiful.’
‘But is it sexy?’
‘Why are you so concerned with coming off sexy?’
Margherita’s eyes lowered. ‘I have only ever made love with Riccardo. He has only ever been with me. I don’t want him to grow bored of me, and my body.’
Sarah exhaled kindly. ‘In my experience, you will only ever feel attractive or “sexy”, if you believe you are. And you are, Marghe. Look at you.’
Margherita turned to assess herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw. ‘They are very comfortable too,’ she added.
‘Excellent. I think you look gorgeous, and Riccardo will definitely love seeing you in that.’
Margherita turned and said, ‘Now, you.’
‘It’s a little more . . . out there . . . than your look.’
‘That’s ok! I want to see.’
Sarah pushed the curtain to the side and watched as Margherita’s jaw dropped. She blinked several times more than was required. ‘Sarah, you look . . .’
Sarah turned back to her own mirror. Though she usually only wore lingerie for herself because it made her feel confident and powerful, she knew she needed to buy this one for Matthew. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, pivoting on the spot.
Margherita gathered her faculties long enough to say, ‘Matthew’s face will fall off when he sees you in that.’
