Page 22 of The Pakhan's Arranged Bride
He nods and I pull it open to find a long, beautiful dress. Soft viscose, the kind of fabric that floats in the slightest breeze.
“Baby blue,” I mutter, lifting it up to look at it.
He winks at me.
“I’m sure we can stop at one of the boutiques and ask them if you can use their change room.”
I unclip my safety belt and climb over the front seat, into the back. “No need, I’ll change back here quickly,” I say, already tugging my top off over my head.
Benedikt makes a sound in his throat that I can only interpret as panic mixed with surprise.
For some reason, the car slows as I wiggle out of my jeans, lying on the back seat with my legs in the air.
When I sit up, my hands over my chest, I glance at the mirror and find him staring at me in disbelief, his eyes taking in anything he can glimpse with a hungry need.
“Watch the road,” I insist, shooting him a warning, pretending to be offended while secretly enjoying the fact that I can tease him.
The dress fits snuggly over my waist. It’s a similar style to my wedding dress, with thin spaghetti straps and a simple, clean design that flares over my hips. But this one has a long slit up the front that goes as high as my hip bone.
Very sexy.
I scrunch the dress up around my legs as I climb back into the front seat. Benedikt reaches out to hold me steady while I wiggle through.
His hand slips beneath the skirt and brushes over my inner thigh and lighting shoots through me.
My heart is racing as I settle down again and clip the safety belt, sitting elegantly as though I didn’t just do a back seat car change.
Benedikt is laughing at me, shaking his head. “You’re full of surprises, little fox.”
“No, I’m just hungry and not in the mood to stop anywhere,” I grin at him.
The restaurant is as exquisite as he said it was. I can see why people have to book months in advance to get a table here—but as soon as Benedikt walks in, the staff are running around make a space for us. Not even a second of hesitation.
We’re sitting at the window, and my stomach is spinning because of the height. I swallow hard and turn away from it. I love the view, but the vertigo is intense.
“Are you doing okay there?” he asks, his eyes narrowed at me.
“Do you mind if we swap seats?”
“Of course.” He stands, pulling his chair out for me. I stand on unsteady legs, giggling at myself as I walk carefully to his seat and sit down in a rush.
“Are you scared of heights?”
“I’m not scared, exactly. I love the view, and I love being here—but I get vertigo, and it overwhelms me, making me think I’ve lost my balance in a way.”
He chuckles. “You are a weird little creature. If you’re uncomfortable here, we can go anywhere else.”
“No, I’m happy here. I can’t see the edge of the building from this seat, so it’s a lot better.”
Benedikt orders for us. Then sits back to let his eyes roam over me. “I was right about the baby blue,” he says, his eyes shining.
I grin, then press my lips together, not giving away any secrets.
He leans forward and lets out a slow breath as though he’s fighting his inner thoughts.
“Tomorrow night,” he says, officially changing the subject, “we are having dinner with my mother and sister. At thewedding, you didn’t have a chance to meet them properly, so I’m looking forward to introducing you. You’ll love Belle.”
He starts telling me about his little sister, talking fondly and happily about her.
