Page 102 of Whispers in the Dark
I swallow hard. As much as every instinct tells me I shouldn’t accept something like this, one look at his eyes tells me how much this means to him.
How badly he wants me to love it.
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “You got me a purple convertible,” I say, a small smile breaking free. I step forward and wrap my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest. “Thank you, Mauro.”
His arms tighten around me as he plants a kiss on my temple. Pulling back, he slips a hand into his pocket and retrieves the key, dangling it before me.
I smile, stepping in the direction of the passenger side before glancing back over my shoulder. “Maybe you should drive.” My voice turns soft, teasing. “I want to be able to thank you properly.”
And the look on his face is one I’ll remember forever.
“Mr. Alarie, welcome to Noir.” A tall, slender woman with bright red, shoulder-length hair greets us. Or rather, greets Mauro, as her attention remains solely on him. And only him. She steps around the desk, her six-inch heels clacking on the marble floor. “My name is Cordelia,” she says, her smile slow and deliberate, her gaze roaming over him in a way that makes my stomach twist with irritation. “How can I help you today?”
Mauro doesn’t acknowledge her stare. Instead, he nods toward me, his arm sliding firmly around my waist and drawing me into his side.
“I need a dress,” I tell her, my tone clipped.
Cordelia’s eyes finally land on me, the warmth draining instantly. She looks me over with open distaste, hazel eyes sharp and assessing. “And you are…?”
I grin wickedly, pressing my hand against Mauro’s chest, angling it just enough for the wedding band to catch the fluorescent light. “Hiswife.” I enunciate the word, leaving no room for error.
“Hmm.” The sound is dismissive, her smile turning thin. Without another glance, she pivots on her heel and strides away. “This way,” she calls over her shoulder.
I glance up at Mauro, his features tightening as his grip around me locks into place.
“Everything okay?”
He shakes his head, his hand finding mine, intertwining our fingers. He closes his eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath before releasing it. When he opens them again, his expression is composed. Without a word, he leads us forward, guiding me to the back of the store where our new friend disappeared.
I spot a fitting room with the drape partially open and step in front of it, peeking inside to make sure it’s empty. Looking around the space, I see so many beautiful dresses in an assortment of colors and styles. I don’t know how I’m going to choose which one is right for me.
“Here are a few options I think will work best for you.” Cordelia appears beside me, arms full of dresses, then slips past me into the fitting room to hang them. When she emerges, there’s a knowing, wry smile on her lips. “I’ll be right out here,” she says smoothly, already turning away. “Keeping your husband company.” Her eyes flick toward me. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
I return her smile with one of my own, tight and deliberate, fully aware of the game she’s playing, then pull the curtain closed behind me.
I face the dresses and begin to sort through them.
They’re all floor-length.
All long-sleeved.
All high-necked.
Every single one will cover me from head to toe.
My fingers curl into tight fists at my sides.
This bitch.
“Leave.” The word thunders on the other side of the curtain, Mauro’s rough voice sending my body on high alert.
I yank the curtain back just in time to see Mauro looming over Cordelia.
“Sir,” she stammers, eyes wide, color draining from her face. “I meant no offense. I was only suggesting drinks.”
He takes a step closer.
The shift in him is immediate and terrifying. His jaw is set hard, his expression dark and unrecognizable. A vein bulges along his neck as his hands clench at his sides, restrained fury radiating off him.
