Charles smiled as a pastel-clad arm peeked around the edge of his door before the full vision of loveliness that was his lover entered. He bit his bottom lip to rein in the grin that threatened. If she saw that she would know that his gift had intentionally been designed to cause her consternation. Letting his eyes travel from slippers over shapely ankles and up her increasingly beautiful figure to her face he noticed that the only part of her which was not pink was her face which was three shades past pink to full on red. Whether from anger or embarrassment he wasn't quite sure. He cleared his throat as the thought occurred to him that he might have gone one step too far in his little joke.
"I see that you found my gift," he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, "Yes, it's, um, quite cozy and a lovely cut."
"And the color?" he asked as he stepped closer to her.
Her face turned slightly redder, "It's a nice shade. Very feminine."
"I'm glad you like it," he said, placing his hands on her waist to draw her into his embrace, "I thought for a long time about what color to buy."
Her glare grew slightly more intense, but she closed her eyes when he lowered his lips to hers. He felt her icy anger melt slowly away in his arms as he deepened the kiss. Before they went any further, he would have to end his teasing. It really wasn't fair to her.
"Elsie, love, you don't have to pretend to like it. I know you hate pink," he whispered close to her ear, "I bought it as a joke."
She pulled back to look at him in surprise before clapping her hand on his chest, "Charles Carson, I would never have thought you'd be so cruel."
He chuckled and pulled her back against his chest, "I'll take it back if you wish, although I barely worked up the courage to buy it in the first place," he added as he rubbed the top of his ear. "First though you might want to listen to my reasoning."
"I'm sure that your explanation for buying your new lover an intimate gift that you know she will hate is excellent," she answered in a voice that dripped icicles.
"A dressing gown isn't that intimate," he protested, but then continued at her level look, "I picked the color that I thought you'd want off you as quickly as possible."
She looked at him in astonishment for a moment before breaking down in laughter which she smothered against his shoulder. After a few moments, between gasps for breath, she finally spoke, "You, my dear butler, are a wicked and devious man."
"That I am," he agreed with a grin as he worked loose the very pink tie of the very pink dressing gown. "I also might have picked up one or two other gifts in that store that I certainly would never want to take back."
"And the color?"
"Patience, lover," he whispered as he took steps to end all conversation for the night.