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The bust is tight, pushing my breasts up so they’re on display, and the waist nips in, emphasizing the curve of my waist.
It’s borderline indecent.
And it’s going to drive Xander absolutely nuts that everyone is looking at me in it.
Rosa stands behind me. “He’s going to lose his shit.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She laughs, and for a second, I see the respect gleam in her eyes. “Good luck, Miss.”
“Thanks, Rosa.” I turn to Mark. “Alright. Accessories?”
“You got it, mafia queen.”
By the time the driver arrives and Romero strides back in to inform me, I'm all decked out in so much expensive finery I'm certain I've got to be wearing a king's ransom.
He leads me outside, his eyes respectfully tilted to the side as he opens the door of the black limo and holds it as I slid into the car.
The leather beneath me is cool and I place my head against the headrest, close my eyes and let myself just breathe.
The car purrs and pulls away from the driveway. The drive is silent and long and I spend it sipping from the glass of Krug Champagne which has been provided for me.
I'm feeling a little calmer by the time Romero opens my car door and nods at the entrance where a maitré d is waiting to lead me into the restaurant.
I tap in my heels to the door and follow him to the table where Xander is already seated.
He lifted his head to meet my eyes, pulled his phone from his ears, hung up without taking his eyes off me and did a deliberate sweep of the bold Valentino gown I'd finally decided on.
I could almost feel him undressing the silky drape of the champagne dress off my hips, the sheer panels along the side allowing a glimpse of skin, which his eyes seemed to particularly enjoy.
Then, his eyes go dark. “Who saw you in this?”
“Oh, people. Anyone on the street. Rosa. Romero.”
Xander’s eyes flash. “Who on the street, Mel?”
“Literally anyone with eyes. I can’t stop them from looking at me.”
He looks at the wait staff, who look pretty nervous to see Xander glaring at them.
“Leave them alone, Xan,” I say softly, my instincts kicking in. “I’m here with you.”
He nods stiffly, then goes to pull out the chair. I walk over to him, my heels clicking on the floor. I sit, gently, and he pushes the chair in.
When he sits, his eyes darken again. As we sit, the bustier on my dress presses my breasts up.
If my calculations are correct, my nipples are almost hanging out of the fabric.
His face is flushed, and I can’t tell if it’s with rage or lust.
Internally, I smile.
Take that.
Xander gulps and grabs his wine glass, his fingers clutching the delicate stem a little too hard. "I'm glad you came. And doubly glad it's just us here, that dress. It's torture."
He slides his hand across the table and holds it out long enough that I place my hand in his and inhale shakily when he squeezes before turning my palm over and places an oddly sweet kiss in the center.
