Page 99 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

“Affonso,” Emma chided, shaking her head.

Shopping with him was unbearable. Unfortunately, itwasn’t something he gave her much of a choice in. Affonso wanted Emma to bedressed in the most up-to-date items when they came into the stores. Both heand she regularly updated their entire wardrobe over the span of a couple ofdays.

It bored the hell out of her.

Affonso just liked to antagonize the ladies working inthe boutiques. Emma was sure of it.

“Fine, we’ll try on another few,” Affonso said.

He shooed the woman away with a wave, glaring as shewent.

“You don’t have to make this whole thing so awful forthem,” Emma said.

“For the amount of money I spend in here, yes I do.”

Jesus.

Emma rolled her eyes, and turned back to the mirror.“I don’t see what the problem with this dress is.”

“The length, for starters.”

“It’s only a few inches above my knees, Affonso. Ican’t think of a single man who gets turned on by the sight of a woman’s knees.Should I start wearing dresses that hang down to my ankles?”

“Don’t start,” her husband warned. “Try on another.”

Knowing better than to argue with him, Emma went backinto the changing room. She picked a navy blue dress that would be tight to hercurves with a pencil thin skirt, but fell low enough to soothe Affonso’sjealousies. Once she stepped out of the dressing room, Affonso nodded inapproval.

“Better,” he said. “I like this one.”

“Me, too.”

Affonso stayed quiet as Emma turned in the mirror,surveying the back of the dress and how it looked at different angles. Shecouldn’t help but notice how quiet her husband had become. Usually he was fullof praise or disapproval when she came out of a dressing room with somethingnew on.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, not bothering to turnaround. “You said you liked it.”

“I do.”

“You’re too quiet.”

Affonso sighed. “It isn’t the dress.”

Emma turned around to face Affonso. “Do you want me toget the dress?”

“Yes.” He stared up at her, unflinching. “I also wantto know if you put any crazy ideas in my daughter’s head about some school inEngland.”

Emma blanked. “What?”

Affonso waved his phone in the air. “Cynthia messagedme not five minutes after her plane landed yesterday. She’s been waiting on areply from me ever since. Something about a school and dance—in England.”

Shit.

Why was Emma’s throat so tight all of the sudden?

The girls had stayed home for nearly three weeksbefore they left again for boarding school. Emma was sad to see them go, asthey made the New Year’s celebrations leading into cold mid-January a littlebit better. They gave her something else to think about, other than the factthat February was crawling closer and closer by the day.

Her baby boy, the one she buried, would have been duethe first week of February. She didn’t realize how much it hurt until it wasright around the corner.

Emma forced the thoughts away. It was better if shedidn’t stay focused on the sadness for long. It could eat her alive if she letit.