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Okay, that was one thing I knew about Dani Farraday: Cavan Wilder was an aphrodisiac for her. Even when he wasn’t present, he completely turned her on.
I knew that she was marrying Cavan in a few hours, and she felt just fine about it.
I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the full-length mirror, and I knew a third thing: Dani Farraday looked fantastic in this dress.
I yanked the tag off it, picked up my purse, and walked out of the change room to find the saleswoman. “I want to buy this dress,” I told her, handing her the tag, “and I want to wear it now. Do you have sandals to match?”
She did. I bought them. I bought three other dresses, too.
Makeup. Lip gloss. Beautiful, pale pink, and expensive—but I picked it because it was called Siren’s Call.
A girl has to start somewhere.
We were going to meet back in the car in the mall parking lot. I was right on time, checking the time on my new phone as I came out into the blinding desert sunlight. I found my sunglasses in my purse and put them on, juggling my purse and my shopping bags as I headed for the car. I looked up and I stopped.
The back seat door was open, and a strange man was bent, looking inside it, one hand braced on the car’s roof. He was wearing a dark suit, cut slim on his hips. Pants, a jacket, a glimpse of white shirt—that was all I saw. I thought about turning around and running, hiding, because a stranger had somehow broken into our car.
Then I recognized him.
My stomach dropped. I stared helplessly as the man stood up, and I recognized every line. I knew that body. Those lean legs, those hips, that flat stomach, those strong shoulders and long, beautiful hands. I even recognized his gorgeous ass, even though I’d only seen it in jeans—or bare.
I made a sound, and Cavan turned and looked at me. I was speechless all over again, because he’d changed. His hair was cut, trimmed off the back of his neck and from his temples. His beard was shorter too, trimmed close to his jaw line. Two small changes, but it made his face different—cleaner, sharper, harder maybe. And dear God, it was sexy. He’d been sex incarnate when he was a tattoo artist in jeans and a t-shirt. Now he looked like the devil in a dark suit and white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Like the kind of man who made women fall to their knees.
“You look nice,” he said, looking me over.
I made my voice work. He could probably see that my nipples were hard through the dress, though he was too polite to say anything. “So do you,” I said.
He shrugged, the motion doing fascinating things to the suit jacket and the shirt beneath. “I figured I should get cleaned up for my wedding,” he said. “I know it’s just a piece of paper, but it seemed disrespectful not to.”
“Me, too.” I stepped forward and took my sunglasses off.
“Here, give me your bags,” he said, taking them from me and putting them in the back seat alongside his. I was treated to another view of his rear end, which I soaked in like water. Then he turned and stood again, looking at me. “What?”
“You, um,” I said. “I just never saw you as a suit guy.”
“Hmm,” he said, watching me. “It’s the suit, huh?” It was impossible not to tell how turned on I was, and he obviously noticed. He stepped toward me and cupped my face lightly in his hands, tilting me up toward him. He leaned down to my ear.
“It’s just clothes, Dani,” he said in a low voice. “I’m naked underneath, remember?”
I put my hands on his waist, beneath the jacket. “A haircut, too,” I said. “You look different.”
His lips brushed my skin. “So do you. That dress. And you have lip gloss on.”
My hands tightened on his waist, his skin warm through his shirt. “Kiss it off me,” I said.
He growled against me. “You have no fucking idea.”
“I think I do.” I was being bold, but I didn’t care. We were in the
middle of a parking lot, but I didn’t care about that either. In fact, I preferred it if everyone saw that this man belonged to me. My hand left his waist and slid to his flat stomach. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to feel him.
“I had no idea a change of clothes would have this effect,” he said, and stepped back. “Keep your lip gloss. For now.”
Nineteen
Cavan
Three hours later, we were married.
