Page 344 of Reign

His forearms should not be that distracting.

“How long ago did you plan this?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if you were arranging whiskey and towels while I was declaring war over my pool.”

“I can manage more than one crisis at a time.”

“My anger was not a crisis.”

“You threw a sketchbook at me.”

“You caught it.”

“That doesn’t improve your argument.”

I lean back against the chaise. “Are you going to tell me what the whiskey is for?”

Luciano picks up the bottle and walks toward me. He stops close enough that the heat of his body reaches mine.

“You.”

I look from him to the bottle.

“You’re going to pour that on me?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds sticky.”

“I’ll make sure none is left behind.”

Oh.

A laugh slips out of me, softer and less steady than I intended.

Luciano’s gaze drops to my mouth.

Then lower.

I chose the dress because it made my waist look tiny and my breasts look like they had made several excellent life decisions. The neckline dips low across my chest, while the thin fabric clings to every curve before ending dangerously too high.

It suddenly feels like far too much clothing.

His fingers catch the strap at my shoulder.

“Getting me naked?”

“Improving the evening.”

“I thought the whiskey was doing that.”

“It will.”

He traces one finger beneath the strap, dragging it slowly along my skin before letting it settle back into place.

My breath catches when his knuckles brush my collarbone.