Page 44 of Reverence

I marched toward the bathroom and pounded my fist against the door.

“Hurry up, princess. We haven’t got all night.” I huffed.

The lace lining my corset itched against my skin, only adding to my growing irritation.

I raised my fist to knock again, but the door swung open.

Ares strolled out as though we were preparing for an ordinary evening together rather than going undercover to investigate a potentially dangerous criminal organisation.

His gaze swept over me once before he adjusted his cufflinks and walked past.

The burgundy shirt beneath his charcoal-grey suit matched my dress perfectly.

From an outsider’s perspective, we probably looked like the quintessential power couple.

The thought alone made me want to scream.

Every day, I contemplated asking Asher for a transfer. I wouldn’t have cared if it came with a demotion.

How long could I realistically work alongside this man before I finally malfunctioned?

Every interaction pushed me closer to the edge.

I stepped into the bathroom and glanced around, searching for something—anything—that could help me with the godforsaken zipper.

Then I spotted the hangers.

Perfect.

Except they were scattered across the bed, and there was no way in hell I was walking out there with my entire back exposed.

“Do you need help with your dress?”

Ares’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up.

Our eyes met through the mirror making me frown before looking away.

“No. I’m fine.”

He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised. The muscles in his arms strained subtly against the fabric of his suit jacket.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn, Amala?”

His deep voice seemed to linger in the air before settling against my skin and a shiver ran down my spine. My heart rate spiking.

I didn’t understand the reaction and I certainly didn’t appreciate it.

Why the hell was he looking at me like that?

Ares pushed away from the doorway and approached.

He stopped directly behind me, his height towering over mine.

Before I could protest, he gathered my hair in one hand and swept it over my shoulder.

He stood close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

Too close. I could hear every breath he took.