Page 39 of Hero Worship

"Let me see." Ash's voice held that edge of command that I was growing to love.

His sharp intake of breath as I stepped out was deeply satisfying. I did a little turn, smirking back at him over my shoulder.

"We'll need more like that," Ash decided, his voice rough. He turned to Marianne, switching back to French. Whatever he said made her smile knowingly before disappearing into the back.

She returned with an array of pieces that made my heart race: minimalist dresses with architectural details that could hide a multitude of weapons, skirts that would allow free movement while still maintaining the illusion of vulnerability, tops thatplayed with gender in ways that would appeal to Roche's aesthetic.

"This one too." I selected a deep green mini skirt that would pair perfectly with the mesh top we'd already chosen. The combination would read as both powerful and precarious, exactly the type of prey Roche preferred.

Ash watched me move through the selections, adding his own choices with careful precision: the black dress, the green skirt, a blood-red dress that whispered of sin, leather pants with lacing up the sides, tops that ranged from severe to seductive. Each piece was a weapon in its own right, chosen for maximum impact.

"The red silk would look particularly striking under this," Marianne suggested in her careful English, holding up a sheer black top that would expose strategic glimpses of the lingerie beneath. The combination was perfect—feminine enough to draw attention while maintaining the edge of danger I needed.

"Try it on," Ash commanded.

In the changing room, I took my time with the transformation. The silk lingerie went on first, followed by the skirt and top. The mirror reflected exactly what we needed, someone who looked both claimed and available, dangerous and vulnerable all at once. The kind of contradiction that would catch Roche's eye.

"Show me," Ash said again.

I stepped out, watching his reflection in the mirrors as his eyes darkened. He rose from his chair, circling me slowly. His fingers traced one of the shirt's cutouts, finding the silk beneath. The touch sent electricity racing through my veins.

"Beautiful," he murmured, then louder, "We'll take all of them."

Marianne smiled. "Excellent choice. Shall I wrap everything, or will monsieur be wearing any pieces out?"

Ash's hand settled on my hip, possessive. "Wrap the clubwear, but the red silk stays on."

Heat flooded my cheeks. I'd have to walk back to the hotel wearing silk and sin under my clothes, feeling it with every step. Knowing what it was doing to him.

"Of course," Marianne said smoothly. "I'll have everything ready while monsieur changes."

The walk back onto Avenue Montaigne was an exercise in controlled torture. The silk shifted with every step, a constant reminder of what I wore beneath my expensive clothes. Of who I was wearing it for.

Ash's hand stayed firmly on my lower back, but now his fingers would occasionally dip just low enough to brush where he knew the silk began. Each touch sent sparks of electricity through my body.

"Hungry?" he asked, his tone casual despite the heat in his eyes.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. We had dinner reservations later at some fancy restaurant—part of our cover as honeymooning tourists—but that was hours away.

"Good. Because I think it's time we went back to the hotel. I want to see how that pretty silk looks spread out on our sheets."

My breath caught. "The mission—"

"Can wait." His grip tightened possessively. "Right now, I need to remind my asset exactly who he belongs to."

The way back to the hotel passed in a blur of anticipation. Ash kept me close, his touches growing bolder with each block. By the time we reached our suite, I was practically vibrating with need.

The moment the door closed, Ash pressed me against it. His hands were steady as they found my waist, but his voice betrayed his hunger. "Show me," he ordered. "I want to see if it looks as perfect on you as I imagined."

I met his eyes as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, letting him see how much I wanted this, too. The silk came into view inch by inch, exactly as we'd planned when we'd picked it out. His breath hitched at the sight, fingers tightening on my hips.

"Even better than in the store," he murmured, running one finger along the delicate edge.

"I wanted to feel sexy for you," I admitted. The vulnerability in my voice surprised even me.

"You're always sexy." His voice turned harder, more commanding, as he pressed closer. "And you're mine." His fingers traced where silk met skin. "But seeing you in what we chose together... knowing you've been wearing this since we left the shop..."

I moaned as his teeth grazed my lower lip. "Ash, please—"

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