I go very still.
"Sorry?"
"The man," she says, returning to a genuine grievance that seemed never properly resolved. "He stole my bra. I took it off to help him and he just stole it. She shakes her head. "After everything I did for him. I saved his life and he took my bra as some kind of souvenir." Her eyes narrow. "If I ever find him, I am giving him a piece of my mind."
I make a quiet decision that the moment I return to that house I am getting rid of it before she ever comes anywhere near that wardrobe.
"You," I start, and I hear something in my own voice that I don't normally hear there. "You think he's a pervert."
"What else would you call it?" she demands, turning to face me fully. "I dug a bullet out of a stranger's chest and he didn't even say thank you, he just took my bra."
I open my mouth and I think about exactly how that conversation goes and I close it again.Nathalie, I am the manfrom the garage, I have been looking for you for two years, also I took your bra and it has been hanging in my wardrobe in Las Vegas between two suits.I look at her face, at the genuine offended energy she is currently radiating at the memory of a stranger she has never met, and I think about her turning that expression on me.
No, not today. Not right now.There will be a better moment.
"Why are you asking about this?" she queries.
"I was just curious," I keep my eyes forward and I clear my throat.
She asks more quietly, "Is this about the woman you're searching for?"
She has her chin up and her jaw set and she looks at me with a brave face "You came here because you chose me. Didn't you?"
It comes out like something she has decided to believe rather than a question she needs answered. "You have to forget about her. You liked her first but I'm here now."
I reach out and I take her hand from her lap.
"I choose you," I tell her. "Over and over."
She grins then she looks down at our joined hands and she says quietly, "I'm the daughter of a disgraced corrupt politician now. What I did today was reckless and the coming days are going to be difficult and messy and I don't know exactly what it will cost me." She pauses and she looks up at me. "Do you still want me?"
I lean forward and I kiss her, keeping her hand in mine and I pull back just enough to say against her mouth, "No one will ever touch you. I'll make sure of it."
She leans into me and I press my lips to her hair.
"Come back to Las Vegas with me," I say.
She blinks. "Now?"
"Now," I confirm. "Today."
She nods with a smile.
I look at the dress, it's a dress that she wore to marry another man and is still wearing. I reach out and I touch the fabric at her shoulder.
"I can't stand you in this," I tell her quietly. "Take it off."
She looks at me. The corner of her mouth deepens. "I quite like it actually," she murmurs.
I look at her.
"Do you want to be punished?" I ask. "Don't be stubborn."
She holds my gaze and without breaking it she says. "Then take it off my body."
I kiss her hard and she holds onto me, fingers digging into my shoulders as my hands find the delicate seam of the white dress. The fabric rips under my grip with a tear that echoes in the quiet car. I keep kissing her, my tongue pushing deep into her mouth, stroking against hers until her lips turn dark red and glistening from the wet friction.
She climbs over the console to straddle me, still kissing me desperately, her hands threading through my hair and tugging hard. I rip the dress further from underneath, tearing it open from hem to waist so the torn white silk falls away and exposes the smooth curve of her bare ass. The thin lace thong is the only thing left. I yank it aside roughly.
