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“Will…”
Anne let her hand drop and looked down, her cheeks burning. William’s strong hands pulled on the fabric, and he fastened the buttons. His hands then moved down her sides, causing her to go rigid.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I’m checking the fit.” William turned her around by her shoulders and looked her up and down. “What do you think of this one? I suppose the fabric on top keeps it modest, and the design is simple enough not to conflict.”
“Conflict? With what?”
“With your natural beauty. You don’t need anything with a flashy design.” William touched her chin and lifted it up. “It’s too much.”
Anne felt her stomach fluttering. He was so blunt about calling her beautiful. Like it was a matter of fact as she stood there with wet, unstyled hair and no makeup at all. William stepped back so that she could look in the mirror. Indulging him, she took another look.
“I can’t wear this,” she said flatly.
“Well. Maybe with a statement necklace. I have a few on reserve.”
“No, I mean the train is too long. If I had to run for some reason, I would trip all over myself. I’m drowning in this.”
William put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side. “You’re right. And I think the skirt would fall funny on your gun.”
Anne looked up at him and arched a brow.
“I know you’re going to wear one. Might as well prepare for it.” William quickly unbuttoned the back and then touched her shoulder as he headed out of the room. “Try on the last one. We’ll get this.”
After William left, Anne took one last look at herself. What in the world did he see? Was he still imagining her as she had been? Young, more slender and vibrant?
She shimmied out of the dress and tried on the last one. The blue was a little brighter, but the design was even simpler than the last. The fabric was carefully draped, with a plunging neckline. The full skirt had delicate floral lace inserts, and this was the only bit of decoration on it. As she pulled it on, she felt a wave of anxiety. How could she spend her time on something so frivolous while her daughter might still be crying at the babysitter’s house? While a hit man was out there, possibly aiming at his next target?
Anne ran her hand over the fabric, and it was like wearing a cloud. She’d never worn anything like it.
“How is it?” William cracked the door.
Anne turned quickly.
“Oh,” William said, with an exhale of breath. He came to her and touched her bare shoulder. He looked over the dress, and a smile began to tease over his lips. She watched his eyes as they ran up and down the dress and his cheeks began to color.
“You like?”
“I do.” He walked around her and zipped up the small section at her back. “This is very elegant.”
Anne pressed her hand to the sides, feeling the fabric on the high waist of the dress. William took her other hand and turned her. He was looking at her so intensely. It was as though something had lit up inside of him.
“I think this is the one. Think you can fit your gun under it?”
“Y-yes. The gun will fit.”
She let him lead her to the mirror, and he stood behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, causing a shudder to run through her body. Anne hadn’t been nervous by his closeness throughout this investigation so far, but now her heart pounded wildly, and the heat of his body seemed oppressive in its closeness. She both wanted to pull away and lean into him.
“You’re not looking at the dress, love,” William said with a chuckle. “You look amazing. I knew you needed something simple. Once you’ve got your hair done up and the right earrings, you’ll fit right in. No one will ever know you’re packing.”
He’d meant the last bit as a joke, but Anne only felt her chest grow tighter. If only her anxiety had to do with the gala. She had been able to come off so strong with him until now, mostly because she’d been on the job. It was easy to put on a façade of brusque indifference when the case was between them. Now, nothing stood between them but a thin bit of luxurious fabric.
“Anne?” William tilted his head.
“It’s a nice dress.”
“Nice? It’s Zuhair Murad.”
