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Instead, I release my grip from her neck and inhale her sugary scent. “Hi.”
Her giggle reaffirms her innocence and my mistake of manhandling her.
“I’m happy to see you too.”
My angel. So, so naïve and perfect.
I grin down at her. She holds my gaze for mere seconds before timidity returns, and she drops her focus to my shoulder. A frown mars her gorgeous face. Perplexed as to why she’s upset, I lift her head back up to mine. “What’s wrong?”
She worries her lower lip which makes me want to nibble on the plump pink skin too.
“I…nothing. Are you ready to go?”
Reluctance quakes in her voice, and I don’t like the uncertainty. “More importantly, areyouready to go?”
Her shoulders hunch, and she swallows hard. “Yes, I think so. But, I…I mean if you think I look all right?”
The hesitation radiating from her kills me. Fuckers from her past have destroyed her self-confidence. Lucky for me I can build her up again.
I step back and peruse her clothes. She looks great but something niggles in the back of my mind that she seeks something more than reassurance on her outfit. “I think you look incredible.”
Praise works and her body softens. The smile I crave returns from my affirmation.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I caress over her shoulder and tug strands of sleek hair. “Where would you like to go for lunch?”
Her grin flickers, threatening to fade away before she regroups and stands tall with her shoulder blades against the wall. A similar stance to the first time I met her, portraying the positive professional she wants to convey.
“Anything is fine with me.”
She doesn’t lie. Anythingwould befine with her. That’s not what this is about. I need to know what she really wants so I can give it to her. “You must have given it some thought. What were you thinking?”
Slender fingers scrape against her ear before she jerks her arm down. Not before I catch the angry red mark on the inside of her palm. I flip her hand over and study the burgeoning blister. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
A rumble vibrates in my chest. “Seraphina.”
She squirms from my threatening tone.
“I accidentally burned myself trying to straighten my hair. I’m not good with the flat iron.”
“Then don’t use it. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
She scratches her ear again, fiddling with the earring that dangles against irritated skin there too.
“I don’t normally but I wanted to look suitable since you probably like fancy places.”
Anger courses through me from her admission. We come from different worlds, and she thinks she’s not good enough for me. When unquestionably the opposite is true. I’m definitely punching above my weight being with her.
“You know, like London.”
All of the insecurity coiling in her body unnerves me. Needing to eliminate her uncertainty, I rub down her arms. “You did this for me?”
A slight nod.
