Page 122 of Zach
His gaze is piercing. “I’m sure you can figure it out for one night. That’s all I’m asking for, one
night. After that, you go back to wearing whatever you want…at work.”
“Right. Yep, one night. I can do that. No problem.” I spin and march back into the changing room,
determined to make this dress work. The saleswoman, Bridget, has a little smile playing on her lips, a
bit of aso there,I think, but it falls away as I drop the satin robe.
“Oh, no. My dear,” she says, moving to me, hand hovering over the reddened skin of my arm.
Anywhere the satin robe was touching, the skin is hot to the touch. She looks up at me, an apology in
her eyes, “I’m sorry. I truly thought you were being difficult.”
“I know. It’s ok, really.”
She doesn’t look convinced and pulls the dress bag closer to her body. “It’s not cotton…are you
going to have a reaction to this one too? I really don’t have anything else. I could maybe try and find
something tomorrow. What time is the event?”
I cover her hand and wait for her to look at me. “Thank you. I really do appreciate all of this. But
I’m sure this will be great.” I’m not actually sure. Not at all. But I’m at my limit. I can’t handle
anything more.
I pull the dress on, the soft fabric sliding over my body, the long sleeves hugging me like a second
skin. I’m distracted by the feel of it. Bridget’s gasp brings my eyes to the mirror.
“Wowzers. Is that me?” Stepping closer, I admire the way the Jade green fabric caresses my
curves. It looks like velvet, but the fabric feels lighter somehow and doesn’t immediately make me
want to tear it off. The rich color compliments my dark hair and makes my skin look like it’s glowing.
She steps back, pressing her hands to her chest with a smile. “He must see this one,” she says, and
turns, flinging open the curtain. “We have a vision, Mr. Lee!”
Thank god I turn in time to catch his reaction. It’s worth every bit of frustration over the last hour.
Never, not once, has a man looked at me like that. Like I was…edible. Zach’s face is everything I
never knew I wanted. I press my hand to my chest over my fluttering heart, and his eyes track the
movement. His face tightens and gets harder in a way that I really like. I rub my hand experimentally
down the dress, and yep, he follows it.
Is this how most women feel? Desirable, powerful? It’s heady, and suddenly, I can’t wait until
tomorrow. “What do you think?” I ask quietly, vaguely aware of the saleswoman’s exit from the room.
Zach stands, prowling over to me, gently turning me to face the mirror. He stands behind me, his
