addition of black silk to his fantasies would make Madeline all the more difficult to forget.
The cowgirl turned toward him again. “Hey, isn’t that Professor Watson?”
The sound of her name brought Cal crashing back to reality. Before he could think of an appropriate answer, Allison was tossing her leftovers into the garbage and gathering her deputized saddlebag.
She gave him an elbow nudge. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”
Horror crawled through him in the wake of Allison’s rustling shopping bags. “Wait, Al. I don’t think we should….” He rose to halt his sister, unwilling to confront Maddy while she shopped for sexy lingerie.
Allison merely waved him forward as she pulled open the door to the store. “Come on!” she called airily, strolling inside and missing the thunderous look he purposely threw her way.
Cal followed, silently vowing to wring his sister’s neck. Why had he ever encouraged Allison to sign up for Maddy’s class at the university?
He hesitated at the door, knowing he had no choice but to say hello, yet cursing his bad luck just the same. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
A feminine, floral scent assailed him. Silk, lace and satin draped the bright pink walls of the store. Some guys might feel comfortable in a feminine domain such as this, but Cal Turner was not one of them. He jammed his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from inadvertently knocking some delicate item from its perch and consoled himself by imagining this was how some women felt when they entered a garage for the first time.
On the other side of a rack of garter belts, he could hear Allison rambling in sixteen-year-old fashion. “…so when I want to shop after school, Cal picks me up in time for dinner.”
He also heard the trepidation in Maddy’s voice.
“Cal?”
If there had been a way to retreat, he would have. But his only option was to ditch his sister, and Cal wasn’t about to do that, especially not in some racy lingerie store.
Stepping around the rack into the aisle, Cal brazened it out. “Hey, Maddy.” He knew Madeline would probably feel twice as awkward as he did. He grabbed his sister’s arm and tugged Allison toward the door. “We were just headed home.”
All Madeline had to do was toss him a token “Nice to see you,” and he would be home free.
“Wait.” She hurried toward them, toting her own armfull of shopping bags and the basket containing enough lingerie to fuel a man’s dreams for a year. “As long as you’re here, would you mind giving me a man’s opinion on a little purchase?”
Sweat beaded on his forehead as Maddy set down her basket. He caught another glimpse of its provocative contents and swallowed. Hard.
Before she could reach for anything titillating, Cal nudged his sister in front of him.
“Allison knows more about that stuff than me.” Cal knew Maddy wouldn’t show anything too suggestive to his sixteen-year-old sister.
Madeline frowned. “But I wanted to see what you—”
“Really, she does. Did I mention she is a certified genius? ” He squeezed his sister’s shoulders with what he hoped looked like brotherly affection and not a controlled urge to strangle her.
Obviously the time had come to ditch his sister. There was no way Cal could view Madeline’s slinky purchases without breaking his vow to live a more circumspect life. With the black silk and yesterday’s torrid proposal both working against him, Cal was about ten seconds away from spiriting Madeline out of the store and cashing in on her offer to fire up the sheets.
What else could a guy do besides cut his losses and run? Maybe Maddy would be forced to make more conservative choices with his sister in tow. Although Cal had the feeling that even Maddy in white cotton would have him sinking to his knees singing a hallelujah chorus. He edged closer to the door. “I, uh, parked at the main entrance, Allison, just come on out when you ladies finish up here.”
“But—” Madeline took a step toward him.
“See you soon, Maddy,” he rushed on, flashing her a forced grin and a wave as he backed out the door.
He pretended to not hear when his sister called to him.
He waited alone in his car for a good half hour before his breathing returned to normal. When Allison finally appeared at the car door, he had no interest in hearing what the two women might have discussed. He flicked on the radio to avoid a conversation that might induce further torturous thoughts.
As he started the car and headed home, Cal was plagued by images of Madeline holding the black panties between her delicate fingertips. The worst part was that Cal knew she wasn’t buying that scrap of lace for him.
Apparently, Maddy’s plan to gain some mating rituals experience would now target another guy. The lingerie that Cal had spied would be used to seduce someone else. Cal would never have the pleasure of seeing Madeline unbutton her bulky men’s shirt to reveal the skinny black straps of a lace bra. That satisfaction would be given to another man. The thought caused his gut to twist.
After his hellish experience today, Cal now had one more reason to hate shopping malls. From now on, Allison would have to find another way home from her favorite haunt, because Cal wasn’t venturing anywhere near the sight of black satin for a long time.
3
THE TRANSITION from wallflower to bombshell wasn’t going to be easy, but Madeline thought if her eyelashes could only support a few more coats of mascara, she might have a fighting chance.
At very least, her red dress fit the bombshell mode. What would Cal say if he could see her now decked in the sexiest thing she’d ever owned? Would he be so quick to refuse her?
She’d hoped to get his opinion on the dress at the mall, but he’d been too busy running from her to look at it.
Madeline stepped back from the full-length mirror in the women’s locker room. The university gym was deserted on Friday nights, making it a perfect place for her transformation. Because she hadn’t really wanted to prance around her neighborhood in the raw silk sheath, she’d decided to get ready for her evening out at work. She’d brought her new outfit and a shopping bag full of makeup to school this morning, and she’d spent the past hour attempting to follow all the instructions the woman at the cosmetic counter had given her.
She stared at her image critically, trying to decide if her eyeliner made her eyes look lopsided, when the door to the locker room squeaked.
Thank goodness. Help had arrived.
The cavalry appeared in the form of Dr. Rose Marie Blakely. The six-foot-tall, imposing sociology department chair met Madeline’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection.
“Holy Toledo, Maddy, what happened to you?” Rose Marie yanked Madeline around to look at her firsthand. “I can’t decide if you’re going for Oscar Night glamour or the Whore of Babylon look.”
Although Rose Marie was twenty years older than Madeline and as uninhibited as Madeline was guarded, the women had formed a solid friendship in Madeline’s years at U of L. They frequently ate lunch together and stayed late at the university talking about work.
“The dress is killer,” Rose Marie observed, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she nodded approval at the short sheath with tiny rhinestone buckles at the waist. She walked in a precise circle around Madeline, her uncommon height and girth giving her the look of a fabled Amazon warrior. “But despite the makeup, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Hmm. Madeline had rather hoped she looked a step above insomniac. After Cal Turner had turned her down flat, she’d decided she wouldn’t waste any more years stuck inside her haphazard dress and hiding behind her glasses. She’d been living in the ivory