Page 25 of Nemesis
Besides, the couch wouldn’t allow me to properly see Olivia.
Although I tried convincing myself that the decision was stemming from a purely professional standpoint, that it was my duty to keep an eye on her at all times, deep down I couldn't deny that part of my motives were purely selfish.
Because from where I was standing, I had the perfect view of her every single time she came out of the changing room in thosefuckingdresses.
It probably went against all the rules I’d established when it came to clients, but there was just somethingdifferentabout Olivia Morales. I just couldn’t help myself.
I wasn’t sure why this was taking so long. Everything she tried on looked beautiful on her. Every time she would come out, it was a struggle not to stare. I tried forcing my gaze away but couldn’t seem to stop myself from admiring her, my attention ensnared by her presence.
More time passed before I heard Maria say, “I think this might be the one. What do you think?”
My head snapped up to see what they’d decided on, but I wasn’t prepared for what my eyes laid on. I never thought I’d be thismesmerizedby the sight.
I watched in fascination as she pulled the curtain open and came out of the dressing room, a black gown fitting her body like it was made for her, clinging to every curve on her figure.
Fuck me, she was beautiful.
She was the most exquisite human I’d seen in a long time, her beauty almost ethereal.
Her hair draped against her bare back in soft, loose curls, brushing her lower back, the ghost of two dimples slightly peeking out from under the fabric, begging for my tongue to explore them.
She grabbed her hair in her hand, swept it off her back, and turned around to get a better look. The fabric draped in the back, swooping right above the curvature of her ass.
My eyes couldn’t settle on where to look while they roamed over every inch of her. I kept taking her in, until the feel of her stare burned against my skin.
I finally looked up, our eyes locking, and for a moment, there was just us in the room. The expression on her face sent electricity zinging directly through my chest and it took everything in me not to physically react. She watched me with such familiarity that it sent my mind into a frenzy of questions.
But any thoughts I had halted when she skimmed her hands down her sides and over her waist at a torturous pace. My breath stuttered, a lump lodging in my throat.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as her mouth parted slightly. My gaze bounced from her eyes to zone in on her mouth. My mind conjured images of the same expression painting her face, but under completely different circumstances and I was suddenly met with the desperate urge to know what she tasted like.
She slowly opened her eyes and I tore my own eyes away from her, running a hand through my hair.
“I think it’s perfect,” I heard Olivia say as she moved back to the changing room to change back into her clothes.
No matter how tempting the idea of her was, I couldn't.
I’d never allowed myself to cross that line.
Throughout the years, I tried drowning my emotions and resentment in alcohol and sex, but I could never bring myself to be tempted by the offers. Every time a woman touched me, the ink etched in my skin burned stronger, making it impossible to erase Sofia from my mind. Not even for a single second.
Once they had arranged for the dress to be picked the day before the event, we made our way out. We both reached for the door before she took a step back, letting me do it for her.
We walked to the parking garage on the other side of the street, tension and silence humming in the air. Once we made it to the car, she turned to say something, but my eyes focused on a white envelope stuck to the windshield, underneath one of the wipers.
I scanned the surroundings, finding nothing, the space utterly quiet. I pushed her behind me before dropping to the floor, looking for any signs of alterations to the car.
Getting back up, I turned my attention to her. “Inside, Mrs. Morales,” I ordered her, gesturing for her to get in the car. Knowing she wouldn’t listen, I added, “Now.”
I waited for the passenger door to slam shut before making my way to retrieve the envelope.
I retrieved the note from inside and read its content. Only one sentence, four words, were scribbled on the cream paper.
Time is running out.
CHAPTER11
SOFIA
