He reaches around me, his large hands resting over mine on the hanger. The heat of his chest presses against my back.
"Put it on," he murmurs, his breath brushing against my ear.
I don't argue.
I step behind a heavy velvet screen in the corner of the room. I strip off my jeans and the sweater, my hands trembling slightly as I carefully step into the gold silk.
The dress fits perfectly. It is terrifyingly unforgiving, clinging to the curve of my hips and the dip of my lower back. The thin straps rest lightly on my shoulders. I don't wear a bra; the cut of the dress makes it impossible.
I take a deep breath, push the velvet screen aside, and step up onto the pedestal.
Malcolm is standing a few feet away.
When he sees me, he completely stops moving.
The absolute stillness of his body is the loudest reaction I have ever seen from him. His eyes drop from my face, tracing the deep V of the neckline, following the line of the silk as it pools around my bare feet.
The air in the room starts to feel too thick to breathe.
"Turn around," he says. His voice is a harsh, broken rasp.
I turn slowly, looking over my shoulder into the mirror.
The dress is completely backless. The silk dips dangerously low, exposing the entire length of my spine.
Malcolm steps onto the pedestal behind me.
He doesn't look at my reflection. He looks directly at my bare back. He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of my spine, from the nape of my neck all the way down to the edge of the silk resting just above my hips.
I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut. The contrast between the cold air in the boutique and the burning heat of his touch sends a violent shiver through my entire body.
"He is going to lose his mind," Malcolm whispers, his mouth pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to my bare shoulder blade.
"Simon?" I ask, my voice breathless, my hands gripping the edge of the pedestal to keep my balance.
"Yes." Malcolm’s hands slide around my waist, pulling my back flush against his chest. "He is going to look at you, and he is going to realize that he never actually had you."
I open my eyes, looking at our reflection in the mirror.
We look devastating together. The dark, immaculate cut of his suit against the brilliant, liquid gold of my dress. He looks like a shadow wrapping itself around a flame.
"Are you sure about this?" I ask quietly, leaning my head back against his shoulder. "If I wear this, everyone will be looking at us. Preston won't be able to ignore it."
"I want them looking." Malcolm meets my eyes in the mirror. "I want Preston to see exactly what I am bringing into his house. I want him to understand that the rules have changed."
He turns me around on the pedestal, his hands gripping my waist firmly.
He doesn't kiss me. He just looks down at me, his expression fierce and completely devoted.
"We are taking the dress," he says.
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes loudly in the pocket of my jeans, which are sitting on a chair near the velvet screen.
The sound shatters the heavy intimacy of the room.
I step off the pedestal, the gold silk whispering against the floor, and walk over to the chair. I pull the phone out of my pocket.
It’s Vivian.
