One of his eyebrows arched. “Why not? It’s a classy, branded gown. I think Tess will definitely love it.”

“But it’s too short!” I argued.

I wanted to slap the tilting of his head. Whenever he did it, I sensed a challenge was thrown in my way. “Why? Now you’re having problems with short dresses?”

“I don’t. I just… I can’t wear it before you,” I stuttered.

“Are you being shy before me right now, Rosebud?”

The warmth of my cheeks was embarrassing. Yet, I raised my chin high. “I’m not being shy or anything. You know what, let’s just get over with it.” I knew I was going to regret it, but I clutched the dress and turned around.

And I was indeed regretting once I looked at myself in the mirror. It fit perfectly, not too tight, not even loose. The end of the dress reached just an inch above my mid-thigh. The low-cut neckline displayed my cleavage, where the back cut just stopped three inches above my butt!

Though it was out of my comfort zone, it did look good on me. I looked… sexy. The smooth fabric clung to me like a second skin, manifesting every curve and dip of mine. Even at the thought of going before him with this on, flutters erupted in my stomach.

I didn’t know why I was even doing it.

A knock landed on the door. The sales lady’s voice floated in, asking if the dress fit or if I needed a hand.

“No, everything is good. Just a second,” I replied, tugging the neckline a little higher.

Come on, Em! You can do it.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked out. I found him assessing a beautiful red gown displayed on a dummy. But I couldn’t decipher the look he’d on as he brushed a finger over the fabric, gaze intense.

Then he tore himself away from the gown and turned to me.

His shoulders tensed as the muscle of his sharp jaw clenched. His hands fisted in balls. The storm in his irises turned wild, with his smoldering gaze touching every inch of my body, lingering on the deep neckline.

Blood rushed to my cheeks and ran hot through my veins under his flaming stare. It had me squirming in my place.

“Turn around,” he said. The dominance and huskiness of his rich, deep Greek accent made me obey.

As soon as I turned, a curse reached my ears and followed a sharp intake of breath.

When he didn’t speak for a moment, I fidgeted with my fingers. “A-Ace?” Even the saleswoman was nowhere to be seen. We were alone.