Page 153 of Money Reigns
Then he pauses.
“No. Hell, pick them all.”
A disbelieving laugh escapes me. “You can’t be serious.”
But when I look up, his expression doesn’t waver.
“I am,” he says. “We’ll find a reason for you to wear them. Let’s ship them all.”
He steps closer, eyes burning through me.
“But I want to see you in something now.”
Ilook around for a dressing room, already fumbling with a protest, when his hand brushes mine and stills me.
“Here,” he says.
I blink. “You want me to change here?”
He gestures to a velvet couch, sleek and deep blue. “I’ll wait.”
I glance up, scanning the space for a camera. “Warren. There are probably a dozen—”
“They’re off,” he says smoothly.
I raise an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you know that?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just smirks, lazy and smug.
“You own this place,” I whisper.
He shrugs, unapologetic. “Didn’t want to wait on someone else’s rules.”
My pulse stutters.
The room feels suddenly warmer.
My fingers tremble. Slowly I peel off my dress. I should feel exposed. Should be shy. But his gaze intense stays on my form, heating me.
Watching me.
Devouring me.
His eyes don’t leer.
They see.
Heat and love, want and reverence, all tangled together.
When I step into the midnight-blue gown, it’s heavier than I expected. Soft. Liquid against my skin. I struggle with the zipper until his hands are suddenly there, brushing my bare back.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, fingers grazing my spine as he slowly zips the dress closed.
The moment stretches, quiet and intimate, before he steps back.
His voice cuts through the silence, firm and low. A command wrapped in praise.
“See?” he says. “You’re a vision.”
