“You did?”
“Yes. I hope you like it. A girl as beautiful as you needssomething to wear that comes a little closer to matching your glow. Open it.”
My glow?It’s not that easy to stun me into silence but this isn’t the first time he’s done it. I blink at him as I process the words he just spoke.He’s smug and bossy, why don’t I hate it? He got me a gift. He just called me beautiful.
He hands me a large white box. I hadn’t seen it sitting next to him on the seat.
I open the box, hesitantly pulling out … a dress. It’s made from silk and the buttery-softest, finest suede. “This is …” I don’t know what to say. It’s the most amazing dress I’ve ever seen.
“I’ve got some friends in New York and one of their wives is a designer. Lila Bailey. Apparently she’s the next big thing. She stocks some of her clothes in a store here in New Orleans. I thought, since we’re going out on the town, you might want options.”
The colors of the city through the tinted windows play across his handsome face as the light contact of his body feeds its warmth into me. Little currents funnel to averyintimate place, reminding me again of my dream.
Is this real? Am I dreaming now?
“There are also some shoes there. My assistant arranged them. We had to guess at the size but they’re sandals so they should be somewhat adjustable.”
“Oh.”
“Put on the dress,” he says.
I look around the limo. The partition is up. The windows are tinted nearly to black. “Now?”
“We’ve got a few minutes until we get to the helicopter.” Heleans back against the seat with easy cockiness that’s baked in, like he’s a man who rules the world and always has. Instead of annoying me, like I might expect it to, this detail stirs up some innate craving in me, go figure, adding more hot little sparks to our chemistry.
“Close your eyes,” I tell him.
Something moves across his expression. Amusement, warmth, something underneath both that’s quieter and much more intense. Then, without a word, he closes his eyes.
“Keep them closed.”
“I am.”
I shimmy out of my uniform—and my bra, because the dress has lacy straps and a sort of built-in support. I’ll just have to hope for the best. So all I’m wearing is a tiny white G-string. I don’t usually wear G-strings but it was my last clean pair since I’m way overdue to do laundry. Anyway, it might be sort of perfect for this dress. I pull the dress on and try to pull the zipper up the back but I can’t get it all the way up. “Dallas?”
“Yes?” He peeks.
“The zipper’s stuck.”
“Let me help.”
I’m mostly decent at this point so it hardly matters that his eyes are open and taking in the sight of my very new look.
I turn a little and he zips up the rest of it, his knuckles brushing along my skin as he does this. The light, warm contact sends a zinging current to the low pit of my belly and the pooling warmth between my thighs.
Help.
“Lila Bailey is a genius. And you, Amelie Thibodeaux, arestunning.”
The shoes are a tiny bit too big but I tighten them into place and they’re cute.
The limo slows.
“Are you ready to fly?” he drawls, deep-dark and rasp-edged.
Am I?I don’t know what’s going to happen today but his effect is lighting me up more than the imaginary inner diamonds ever have. The day we’re about to have is already—maybe, although it sounds pathetic—the best one of my whole damn life. “Yes.”
“Good girl. Say yes to everything.”
