The dress.
Damn, that dress.
It's black, gold, and clings to her petite frame like a second skin, highlighting her curves and making me want to run myhands on her stomach, her hips. The neckline plunges, revealing cleavage that makes my mouth water. A slit rides up to her upper thigh, teasing everyone to peek and touch. Her straight black hair has been restyled into waves around her shoulders, designed to make men stupid.
It's working spectacularly.
She walks into the museum, her head held high, and I watch every man in the vicinity turn to stare. Hot, primal possessiveness roars through me.
She's mine.
Mine, even if she doesn't fully know it yet.
I intercept her before she reaches the main hall, catching her wrist and pulling her into a side corridor.
"Declan..."
"This way." I guide her deeper into the museum, away from prying eyes and cameras. "There's a closed exhibit. We can talk there."
"Talk?" Her voice is tight, angry. "You want to talk while your date is back there wondering where you went?"
"Evangeline knows..."
"I don't care what Evangeline knows!" she yanks her wrist free, eyes blazing. "You called me, asking me to rescue you from an event you chose to attend with her."
We reach the closed exhibit, an ancient artifact collection shut down for renovation. The lights are dim, casting shadows across marble columns and glass cases. The air smells of dust and preservation chemicals. I close the door behind us, plunging us into the darkening atmosphere.
"I didn't choose this," I say, my voice low. "Gregory forced me..."
Her bitter laugh cuts me off.
"What an excuse! You're a grown man, Declan. You make your own choices."
"Not when your agent has been controlling your life for nine years," I confess with raw desperation. "Not when he threatens your career every time you step out of line."
That stops her. "What are you talking about?"
Exhaustion flows through me. I lean against the column, shoulders slumping.
Then I explain my relationship with Gregory. How we met when I was nineteen and the contract that controls everything in my life.
"He sabotages any relationship that gets too serious," I continue. "He makes the woman leave because, according to him, 'Relationships are distractions, so they're bad for business.'"
Her expression softens slightly. "Declan."
"Evangeline is his latest scheme. Senator Ashford wants the publicity. Gregory wants the connections. And I..." My voice cracks.
She crosses her arms. I try my best not to look at that bulging cleavage calling me to it.
"And what have you done about it?"
"I'm sorting it out. Because I can't keep pretending I want someone else while the woman I want thinks I'm not serious." I cup her face, thumb rubbing her cheekbone. "I want to be with you, Ivy."
Her breath hitches, eyes searching mine.
"I want to be with you, too," she whispers. "And I hate it."
"Why?"
