“You are,” he stated, his amusement growing when I seemed to flounder like a fish out of water. My mouth opening and closing as if I had forgotten how to breathe normally, let alone speak!
Then, against my better judgment, my gaze flicked briefly toward his back again before snapping upward once more. Because now that I knew they were there, ignoring them felt almost impossible.
Wye finished removing his shirt, and he turned slightly toward me.
“As beautiful as that dress is,” he said instead, his eyes drifting slowly over me now,
“It doesn’t look particularly comfortable to sleep in.” My entire train of thought derailed instantly. And just like that, my attention was no longer on the strange markings across his back. Because the man had just very casually suggested that I start undressing.
I stared at him for one beat too long, my thoughts tangling somewhere between irritation and something far more dangerous. Then I turned sharply on my heel, deciding distance was the only sensible option left to me.
“Right… fine… because this is totally normal,”I muttered under my breath. Clearly, the next logical step when faced with an infuriatingly calm, half-undressed demon was not to just stand there and stare at him. And engaging with him any longer felt like tempting fate in ways I was absolutely not prepared to deal with.
Nope, not today, horny Eliza!
So, the solution was easy…distance.
Immediate, necessary distance. And the dressing room offered exactly that. Or at least the illusion of it. Hence why I took it without hesitation, stepping inside and letting out a slow breath the moment I crossed the threshold. As though the simple act of putting a few feet and a doorway between us might somehow steady the strange, restless energy that had begun to coil low in my chest.
Needless to say,…It didn’t.
No, if anything, it only made me more aware of him.
I could just picture exactly what he was doing now. The slow removal of fabric, the broad line of his shoulders, the markings I had only just forced myself to stop staring at. Would he stop at his shirt, or was he currently pulling free his belt through the hoops of his slacks?
“Stop it,”I whispered to myself, reaching behind me with more determination than necessary as my fingers searched for the ties of my dress.
This part, at least, should have been simple. It had certainly felt simple enough earlier when getting into the damn thing!
But now…
No, now it was like the dress had decided to betray me entirely. My fingers brushed over the lacing at my back, tracing the tight weave of it as I tried to find where it began. Or ended. Or however it was supposed to work. The material was firm beneath my touch, the corset pulled far tighter than I hadrealized. Which meant that no matter how I twisted or shifted my shoulders, I couldn’t seem to find the right place to loosen it.
I tugged gently.
Nothing.
So, I tugged a little harder.
Still nothing.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, twisting slightly and trying again, only managing to tighten something instead of loosening it. The fabric pressed more firmly against my ribs in quiet defiance.
“How was this so easy to get into and yet apparently impossible to get out of?!” From the other side of the door, his voice carried through, smooth and far too composed.
“Do you require assistance?”
I froze instantly, every muscle going still as though the question itself had caught me mid-movement.
Did I want his help undressing me… Absolfrigginlutely… was it a good idea… Hell friggin no!
“No!” I replied quickly, far too quickly in fact. Now, straightening slightly as though that somehow restored a dignity that had already very clearly been compromised.
“I am perfectly capable, thank you.”
Silence followed, and it was the heavy, knowing kind that had me holding my breath. The kind that suggested he didn’t believe a single word of that. I huffed softly under my breath and reached back again, more determined now. My fingers tugged insistently at the lacing as though sheer stubbornness might succeed where logic had failed.
It didn’t.
