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“I promise not to look.”
A stupid girlish giggle escaped me. “Okay. Could you unzip me a little?”
He turned around and gave me a heart-stopping smile that I could see even despite how blind I am. “You’re in luck; I’m good with zippers.”
I had no doubt he had a PhD in unzipping dresses. Look at the man. Between the SPANX and him, I found I couldn’t breathe. At. All.
He stepped toward me. The closer he got, the hotter my skin burned. I was getting so hot my boobs were starting to sweat. Great, I was going to pull out a wet hand. This was going down as the most embarrassing moment of my life. And that was saying something.
He knelt next to me. He was kind enough not to stare at my hand stuck in my bra. Instead, his eyes peered into my own. “You have unusual eyes.”
Well, I was an unusual girl. I always had been. Unusual though sounded nicer, than strange or weird, which I also got a lot of. “Thanks.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“I think you’re taking that wrong.”
“How should I take it?” I truly wanted to know.
He leaned in a little closer. Was he tipsy? I could smell the champagne and strawberries on his breath. It was intoxicating and making me hungry. Stop it, Scarlett. I was being silly. There was no reason to get drunk off him or have any weird sensations coursing through me. No man ever had any interest in me. Unless I counted Hugh Giles. He’d been following me around since we’d ended up in the same study group last year. He was nice enough, but he lacked proper hygiene and chewed with his mouth open. Unfortunately, I was beginning to think the Hughs of the world were my only option. That was why I planned on giving my life to medical school and my career.
Who needed men?
Staring into Kane’s eyes had me thinking maybe I did. It was like looking into pools of liquid caramel chocolate, which definitely didn’t help the growing hunger I felt.
“Scarlett,” he said my name like no one ever had. Tenderly, with a hint of excitement. He was definitely drunk. “You have beautiful eyes. I’ve never seen a shade of green so dark. They’re almost opaque, as if you’re hiding secrets. Are you hiding secrets?”
I lost all ability to speak for a moment or two. “Um . . . No. I mean, unless you count the crumbs in my bra.”
He barked out a masculine but melodic laugh. “We should probably take care of that.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.” I nervously sat up and scooted away from the wall on my butt. The chiffon glided nicely against the floor. I could only imagine how ridiculous I looked.
Kane moved into place.
“Don’t let the dress fall and keep your eyes closed,” I begged.
“Darlin’, like I said, I’m good with zippers.”
No one had ever called me darlin’ before. A travesty, since I had grown up in Georgia. Yet, I couldn’t imagine anyone saying it as alluringly as he did.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I eeked out.
“Relax,” he whispered against my bare skin.
My stupid body broke out in goose bumps, which was a first.
I heard the zipper go down before I felt the release of pressure on my chest. Oh, blessed relief. If only I could have taken the entire dress off and changed into some sweats.
“Imagine how this looks, me undressing my new stepsister and boss’s daughter while at our parents’ wedding.” Kane chuckled to himself.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be related for long.” My left hand went to work extracting my right hand.
“Not worried in the least. I’ve been in more compromising positions than this.”
I swallowed hard, imagining all the possibilities. Except my imagination wasn’t all that good when it came to the opposite sex. “Oh really,” I squeaked out.
He laughed again. “Nothing to worry yourself about. You about done up there?”
My hand was finally loose, with minimal damage to the lacy bra. “Yes,” I breathed out.
He zipped me right back up.
I immediately scooted away from him and sat back against the wall. “Thank you.”
To my surprise, he seemed in no hurry to leave. Instead, he studied me like he seemed to do every time he was around me. It was unnerving. I looked down at myself, wondering if I had stained the dress with frosting or something. Or worse, maybe I had some on my lips. My hand flew up to my mouth, just in case.
“Are you all right?” he questioned.
“I have frosting all over my lips, don’t I?” I mumbled through my hand.
He reached for my hand and pulled it away. His touch sent searing waves of electricity through me. “You don’t need to be nervous around me. Your lips are . . .” He paused, then dropped my hand. “Well, let’s just say there’s no frosting on them.”
