Page 80 of Made for Saints

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Noted.”

I tried on the other dresses, each one eliciting a similar response from Dante—brief, to the point, but somehow still laced with that quiet intensity that made my skin tingle. By the time I was finished, I had two more dresses added to the pile, along with a pair of silver heels that Dante had insisted on approving before I even tried them on.

As we made our way to the accessories section, my eyes caught on a nearby display of lingerie. The mannequins were dressed in delicate lace and silk, the kind of pieces that were equal parts seductive and impractical. I hesitated for a moment, my cheeks flushing as I glanced at Dante out of the corner of my eye.

He was scrolling through his phone again, his expression unreadable, but I knew better than to assume he wasn’t paying attention. The man had a way of noticing everything, even when he pretended not to.

“Don’t be shy,” he said suddenly, his voice low and laced with amusement. “If you’re going to look, you might as well try something on.”

I whipped my head toward him, my cheeks burning. “Excuse me?”

He glanced up from his phone, his smirk firmly in place. “You heard me. Don’t let me stop you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him. “No thank you.”

“Go on. Pick something.” he countered, slipping his phone into his pocket.

For a moment, I considered walking away, just to spite him. But then a wicked thought crossed my mind, and before I could second-guess myself, I turned to the display and grabbed a set—a sheer red lace bra and matching panties, paired with a garter belt that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread.

I held it up for him to see, raising an eyebrow. “This one?”

Dante’s smirk faltered, his dark eyes flicking to the lingerieand then back to me. For the first time, he seemed genuinely caught off guard, and the sight of it sent a thrill through me.

“Try it on,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher around the edges.

I hesitated, the air between us pulsing with tension. “Do you want to come with me?” I asked, my tone light and teasing, though my pulse was racing.

Dante’s jaw tightened, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. He took a step towards me and for a moment, I thought he might actually follow me into the fitting room, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the spell.

He pulled it out with a sharp exhale, glancing at the screen before muttering something under his breath. “I have to take this,” he said, his voice clipped. “But don’t think this conversation is over.”

I watched as he stepped away, his phone pressed to his ear, his tone shifting into something cold and authoritative as he spoke. My heart was still pounding, my skin still tingling from the way he’d looked at me, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if his phone hadn’t interrupted us.

With a shaky breath, I turned back to the display, my fingers brushing against the delicate lace.

My cheeks were still warm, the memory of Dante’s voice—low, rough, and entirely too tempting—lingering in my ears.Try it on.The words played on a loop in my mind, each repetition sending a shiver down my spine.

I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting him to be standing there, watching me with that maddening smirk. But he wasn’t. He was still a few feet away, pacing near the entrance to the store, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in clipped, authoritative tones. Whatever conversation he was having, it was clearly important, his expression sharp and focused in a way that made him seem even more untouchable.

Good. I needed the space. The air between us had been crackling with tension since the moment he’d walked into myhouse, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take without completely unraveling.

With a deep breath, I turned back to the lingerie display and made my decision.Screw it.I grabbed the set and headed for the fitting rooms, my steps quick and deliberate. The sales associate gave me a knowing smile as she unlocked a stall for me, but I ignored her, slipping inside and locking the door behind me.

The fitting room was small but well-lit, the kind of space that didn’t allow for illusions. I hung the crimson lingerie on the hook, its bold color catching the light, and took a moment to steady myself. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the hem of my sweater.

The memory hit before I could stop it. Blood. Hot and sticky, splattered across my dress. His hands on my arms, steadying me. His voice, low and deliberate, cutting through the chaos…

Red suits you.

I swallowed hard, dragging myself back to the present. Was I doing this to prove something to him? To myself?

I slipped out of my clothes, the cool air brushing against my skin as I reached for the lace set. The fabric was softer than I expected, whispering against my fingertips as I fastened the bra and adjusted the straps. The panties were a perfect fit, sitting low on my hips, and the garter belt added a final touch of decadence that made me feel like a different person entirely.

I turned to the mirror, my breath catching in my throat as I took in my reflection. The red lace contrasted sharply against my skin, the sheer fabric leaving just enough to the imagination. It was bold, daring, and entirely out of my comfort zone—and yet, I couldn’t deny how it made me feel. Powerful. Desirable. Alive.

The mirror didn’t lie. The crimson fabric felt daring, almost indecent. On anyone else, it might’ve looked cheap, but somehow, it worked. Somehow, I made it work.

I smoothed the fabric over my hips, heat rising in mycheeks. For better or worse, he’d been right.

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