“Make her curves shine.”
I snap my head in his direction and glower. “I don’t want to shine.”
The girl looks me over, frowning, and then nods. “I think we have some of those that might work, but we can order the other colours in.”
They both completely ignore me. I adjust the bags in my hands, trying to squash the panic that’s pressing at me.
“Excellent,” Riot purrs.
“Am I paying for all this?” I hiss, running down another avenue of attack before I start crying.
“I hacked your bank account this morning. You can afford it.”
“You hacked my…bank account?” I feel faint. Who does that?
He cups my cheeks and leans in so our faces are alarmingly close to each other.
Kiss me, please. I’m dying for it.
“I hacked your account.” The corner of his lip curls upwards, smug, knowing. I’m sure he can hear my thoughts.
He’s really lucky I have my hands full. I might hit the smugness off him.
“Trust me. I promise I won’t steer you wrong.”
I want to trust him, but I can’t yet, not for me. But I can trust completely how much he wants to be free of this spell. So, I reluctantly nod.
This is for them.
His smile makes my stomach jolt and a warm feeling grow in my chest. Their touch over the last two days have been insanely addictive. They have been warm and lingering; the close proximity makes me want more. I can’t resist leaning into them now.
Two days, and they are breaking my will.
They are ruining me.
I’ve never been more aroused or attracted to anyone. I want them to stop; I want them to never stop.
It’s the most confused and conflicted I’ve ever been in my life.
He uncurls my fingers from the bags and takes them, moving to sit on the lounge while the saleswoman ushers me behind a curtain. A massive pile of dresses has her almost bending backwards trying to keep them off the ground.
“I don’t see why I need five. I don’t have anywhere to wear them,” I grumble.
“Why does anyone ever need a reason to look like a queen?” Riot’s ridiculous answer comes from where he’s sitting.
I strip off my clothes and hesitate before allowing the woman to carefully help me into the dress.
The black lace falls heavily around my hips, but the bodice is tight. Trish, I read on her nametag, smiles and turns me to face the mirror. I stare and blink; the reflection doesn’t change.
“You look lovely.”
I do look lovely, not at all like me. I look grown up and mature but not in that aged, dried up way I’ve been trying to hide myself. No, this gown will thrust me into all sorts of attention.
When I look at myself, all I feel is fear.
“Come on, let’s show him. He’s going to love it,” Trish almost squeals as she takes my hand and squeezes it, completely oblivious to my meltdown.
I step out from behind the curtain, and Riot looks up. He freezes when he sees me, his mouth going slack, his eyes heating. I see the wolf in the spark of colour before he gets control and gives us a dazzling smile.
