Free The Fiancée Fiasco by Alyssa Kress Page B

his coffee. "Oh, I could guess."
    It was no wild guess, however, that an hour later had Win pulling his Caddy into the vast parking lot of an even vaster shopping mall. Roseanne regarded the place with suspicion. This had been no 'guess' on Win's part. Sylvia had brought him here when she went shopping.
    Her theory gained conviction as Winthrop silently, calmly led the way to the major department store anchoring one end of the mall. It took him a few seconds after he'd passed through the open wall of the store to notice Roseanne was no longer beside him.
    He turned around with a querying frown. "Something wrong?"
    With a wry smile, she shook her head. "I don't shop here."
    "Oh." Wary, he started back toward her. "Why not?"
    "Out of my league, mister. I'm not stingy but these prices are..." Roseanne let out a breath. "Right through the ceiling. Come on." She turned to go.
    "Wait." Winthrop gently caught hold of her shoulder. "Price doesn't matter."
    "That's what you think."
    "Are their clothes nicer?"
    "Of course they're nicer. Come on, Win. I'm not spending my money here."
    His gentle touch grew less gentle. "Who said anything about your money, sweetheart? I'm picking up this tab."
    "What?" Roseanne was aghast. "Not on your life, darling."
    Winthrop's eyes narrowed. "Now—sweetheart—you know I'm not the sort of man to let his woman spend her own money on a dress."
    Roseanne's eyes narrowed back. "And you know—dear one—that I'm not the sort of woman who lets a man pay her way."
    His eyes pierced her, even as he kept his voice soft. "What's the matter, Roz—afraid a gift or a compliment might damage your strength?"
    Roseanne glared at him, but the accusation stung. "I'm not afraid."
    He let go of her with a tight smile. "Good. Now, what do you say we go shopping?"
    Roseanne rubbed resentfully at the elbow he'd been gripping. He'd trapped her in a corner. If she refused his gift now, then she'd show herself a coward. "Win, has anyone ever told you that you're one overbearing, obstinate son of a—"
    "Yes," he interrupted hastily, giving her a brief, more genuine, smile. "More than once. Come on, I'll show you where the fancy party dresses are."
    He led her unerringly to the formal wear section, where Roseanne took her time going through the racks. She wanted Winthrop to suffer. He'd not only insisted on this outing, but had also insisted it be run his way. As far as she was concerned, he could sit there and play the patient lover.
    She peered between a puce creation of tulle and a satin nightmare of turquoise to check on his status. To her annoyance, she saw that the salesgirls had installed him in a comfortable chair, given him a magazine to read and even, if she were not mistaken, a glass of wine.
    Evidently, Winthrop Carruthers was still remembered in this particular section of the department store.
    "Find something you like?" He glanced up as she walked toward the dressing area with a navy, full-skirted gown in tow.
    "I doubt it," Roseanne grumbled. She'd never felt comfortable in the modish and ultra-feminine styles of formal wear. Give her a well-tailored business suit any day. In one of those she felt crisp and efficient, ready to take on the world.
    "Let's see what you've got." Win set his glass of wine and magazine aside as he rose from his chair.
    "Why, you some kind of connoisseur?"
    Winthrop turned toward the appalled saleslady. "She hates shopping." Giving Roseanne a warning look, he said, "Show me the dress."
    "I'll show you after I try it on." Roseanne stepped back, out of his reach. "I'll only be a minute—darling."
    Just as she'd thought, the dress was awful. Although it was supposedly her size, it looked like a balloon around her slim and angular form. Roseanne simply couldn't fill out any of these feminine fashions. She didn't have the figure for it.
    Win, apparently, agreed. "No," was his immediate response when she came out, very reluctantly, to show him. "That's not right at all." He crossed his