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“His older sister?”
She nods. “Terrible, that was.”
My brow furrows slightly. I knew that Dante and Bianca had an older sister who died young. I just never heard how.
Now feels likenotthe time to ask, though.
After she’s got my measurements, Ginevra brings out an array ofstunninggowns and dresses. They might not be my usual somewhat gothy style. But still, they’re gorgeous.
“These are close to your size. Try a few on, see which ones you like. And if there are evenaspectsyou like, a neckline, a color, let me know that, too. Sound good?”
I nod.
“Good,” she grins. “I have to run down the street to the bank. You stay here and take your time.”
When she’s gone, I strip off my yoga pants and the borrowed tank top. Most of the dresses are definitely not meant to be worn with a bra, so that goes, too.
Ginevra’s right: there are some things about some of the dresses I like, and others I don’t. But they’re all equally stunning. FinallyI shimmy my way into a light blue gown with especially tight quarter sleeves and very narrow shoulders. As I’m trying to get out of it again, I tense.
Oh shit.
It’sstuck.
“Damn it!” I hiss, trying to move my arms and shoulders in ways they don’t usually go, attempting to slip the dress up over my shoulders. I peel it up even higher, but all that does is trap it even tighter, and now my arms are up and stuck like that.
Crap. At least Ginevra will be back at some?—
The door opens behind me. I laugh awkwardly. “Well, this is embarrassing, I think I’m stuck?—”
“Personally, I like the look.”
I jolt, whirling with my hands up in the air and the gown bunched up at my armpits. I gasp sharply when I see Dante standing in the doorway with a hungry, wolfish smile on his face.
Oh my God.
I’m only wearing panties, and with my arms over my head like this, I’m giving him a fuckingshow.
“What thefuck!” I blurt, turning.
“Oh, yeah, much more modest now.”
I groan. I might have pulled my tits away from his gaze. But now my bare back is to him, with just a thong splitting my ass. I squirm and shimmy, trying to get my arms and the dress back down, but it’s not budging.
“Can you please find Ginevra?!” I blurt.
“I could, but I’d hate to interrupt her lunch.”
I scowl. “What lunch? She said she was going to the bank?—”
“Which is exactly where I bumped into her. And I thought, that woman workssohard, she deserves some ‘her’ time. So I bundled her into a cab and sent her off to Jean Georges for a lunch on me.”
“What?!”
“I wouldn’t expect her back soon. I called and ordered her the full Chef’s tasting menu with wine pairings.”
“Dante—”
“I think you need some help with that.”
