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Among my many options, I find an exquisite long coat that flares open from the waist down. I pair it with a sinfully short dress and thigh high black stockings.
The door opens as I finish my lipstick. I expect Ava, but it’s Salvatore who darkens the doorway.
The heat rises into my neck, my heart skipping an unhealthy number of beats.
He looks me over, head to toe, dragging his eyes across my body with slow appreciation. For the first time, his expression is an easy read, even in the mirror.
“How long did you take putting that on?” He asks.
“Don’t you dare,” I smile, fixing the last earring in place. His jaw twitches unhappily, but he slides his hands into his pockets. He stands about as naturally as a soldier. It makes me flare with satisfaction that I can do this to him with clothes on.
I go to the mirror, looking myself over.
The image in the glass is no fairytale princess. This is the other kind of princess—the kind I was raised as, my birthright.
Salvatore comes to stand beside me and slides his hand around my middle.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“Not as much as I’d like taking it off you.”
I lean back against him.
We really do look good together like this.
I have an insatiable desire to kiss him, and a healthy amount of fear that he might not kiss me back. I have no idea who we are to each other now. Just as I don’t know my own label, I don’t know our label. I have no idea how Salvatore feels beyond wanting to fuck me.
How do you ask a man that and still keep your dignity?
I slide my hand over his instead. He doesn’t pull away.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he complains against my neck. My stomach flutters as I raise my other hand, card my fingers through his hair as I lose myself in his arms.
“Maybe I’ll write something nice on your tombstone,” I whisper, daring to draw him into a kiss.
He kisses back, doesn’t press for more or throw me to the bed. I’m drowning in him, unable to get my head above water.
For a few seconds, I am in the arms of a perfect man, and I never want to leave.
“Why are you here so early? You don’t actually have a camera in here, do you?”
“No. Though the more you mention it, the more I’m coming around to the idea.” I resist the urge to suggest just keeping me at his side so he has no reason to spy. “I came to see how you are.”
“I’m okay,” I answer honestly. I didn’t really expect him to check in, and his concern is flattering.
“Good. Then we’re leaving?”
“Leaving? Leaving the house?” I gasp, ruining our little illusion of being a serious power couple.
I’m like a dog offered a walk. I can be embarrassed about it later. Salvatore nods.
“Your first request was a bust, so we move on to the next. Take the day.”
I’m too familiar with him to be entirely swayed.
“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
