Read Online Trust Me by D. T. Jones - Free Book Online

faucets and stepped beneath the sting of water; it was cool and invigorating, soothing the muscles she had just worked out. She lathered the loofah with her lilac body wash, rubbing it gently across her tanned skin before pouring a generous amount of shampoo into her hand and scrubbing her long reddish-brown hair. Her mind was too consumed with what she should wear to pay much attention to what she was doing, as the water rinsed her clean. She wanted to look good for Creighton, but she wasn’t certain if she had anything to impress him with; most of her clothes was simple and consisted of jeans and old tee-shirts, but then again, he did say to dress for comfort.
    Sandra shut off the shower and reached for the very soft towel, rubbing it across her slender frame before wrapping her long hair inside it and going back into the bedroom. She gathered together her blow dryer and brush and quickly pulled her hair straight, before pulling it back into a ponytail at the back of her head. She applied only a touch of lip-gloss to her slightly kiss-swollen lips and a little mascara to her long lashes. She was never much for cosmetics and rarely wore more than a little blush for work, maybe a bit of color on her lips, but not much else. Cathy always said she looked better without makeup, so she never attempted anything elaborate.
    Walking back into the bedroom and rummaging through the assortment of clothing she had brought with her, Sandra quickly realized she only had one pair of jeans and those she had worn on the trip out here. They were wrinkled and in need of laundering, completely unsuitable for an outing with a handsome admirer. She checked the clock next to the bed. Ten fifty eight. She should have enough time to run to the lobby shops; she was sure to find a suitable pair of jeans appropriate for whatever Creighton had planned. Slipping on a blue-flowered sundress and a pair of low heeled sandals, Sandra grabbed her wallet and key card, hurrying out of the room and down the stairs again.
    The hotel had four shops for their guests’ convenience; a jewelry store, a clothing store, a gift shop and a shoe store along with a hair salon where you could have your hair cut while getting a manicure and pedicure. There was a massage parlor where a person could get any type of massage one could dream of, a facial and site-specific waxing and a shop for souvenirs with trinkets, kick-knacks, toiletries, magazines, books and shirts that read ‘ My parents went to France and all I got was this lousy tee-shirt ’. She found the clothing store near the front of the lobby and walked in, glancing around at the many racks of dresses, skirts and bikinis.
    A very attractive brunette woman smiled as she entered. She was tall, at least five feet ten inches; very slender and dressed in a tight lime green skirt and simple white, sleeveless blouse. She was wearing a pair of flat black shoes; her hair was short with curls draping her heart-shaped face. Her bright-red lips and heavily painted brown eyes shone in her tanned face.
    “ Bonjour ,” she said politely. Sandra blushed; why hadn’t she taken some French classes before coming here?
    “Hello…um, bonjour,” she answered. “Do you speak English?” The smile widened on the young woman’s face.
    “ Qui , I speak some,” she answered and Sandra sighed in relief.
    “I am looking for a pair of jeans, you know, pants?” Sandra said, running her hands down her legs.
    “Oh, qui ,” the woman said nodding, turning and leading the way toward the center of the store. Sandra reached a wooden rack of hanging pants and sighed. That was easier than she thought it would be. “What is your dimension ?” Sandra frowned, trying to comprehend. The clerk held her hands up to indicate large too small. Oh, size, thought Sandra. Duh!
    “I’m not sure in French. American four… quatre ?” she answered shyly, remembering at least one word in the woman’s language.
    “ Qui ,” she said and started to