Page 186 of Reign

The earrings graze her jaw every time she moves, and I picture my hand at the back of her neck, gold brushing my knuckles while I keep her close tonight.

Dinner hasn’t even started, and I already know exactly where I’ll be touching her.

Then I see the dress.

The one from her sketchbook.

The one I saw in pencil first, then in half-finished fabric earlier this week, pinned and draped across a dress form like she was trying to pull something real out of herself without making too much noise.

Now it’s on her.

Finished.

The dress follows her body like it was cut around the exact shape of her confidence. Clean lines. A fitted waist. A neckline that should be illegal considering we’re going to dinner and not somewhere I can put my mouth against her skin. The skirt moves when she shifts, delicate until Elena weaponizes it.

She sees me in the mirror.

Her hand stills at her earring.

“You’re staring.”

“Yes.”

Her brows rise. “At least you’re honest.”

“You finished it.”

Her expression changes before she can stop it. Just a little. Pride trying to stay hidden.

“Yeah,” she says, looking down at herself. “I did.”

I step inside and close the door behind me.

Her gaze follows the movement.

Good.

I like having all her attention.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Then she spins.

The skirt flares around her thighs, her earrings catching the light, and for one second, pride lights her face so beautifully that I forget the list in my drawer. I forget dinner. I forget all the reasons this is temporary and complicated and not mine to want.

She stops facing me again, waiting.

I keep my expression even.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s gorgeous.”

Her mouth twists. “Gorgeous?”

“Breathtaking.”

That shuts her up.

Only for a second, but I enjoy the second.