Page 43 of Theirs to Corrupt

Amelia instructs one of her helpers to bring in several pairs of shoes.

Just then, another employee who has been ringing out a customer at the cash register comes over and speaks quietly to Amelia who gives us a quick apology. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

A few minutes later, Tessa is still in the dressing room.

Curious, I stand and wander over to the door and knock. “Everything okay?”

She takes a long time to answer. When she does, there’s reluctance in her tone. “I’m struggling with this zipper.”

“Allow me,” I offer.

“Uhm…is Amelia still busy?”

Even if she wasn’t, I’d lie. “Yes.”

For a few moments, there’s no response.

She turns the knob and cracks the door open a fraction of an inch.

“Your modesty is safe with me.” Another lie. This one is so blatant that it almost stuck in my throat.

There’s nothing more I want than to corrupt her entirely.

“Fine.” With that, she vanishes from view.

Realizing I won’t get an invitation, I enter the small room.

She’s standing in the middle of the space, her back to me.

Does she believe that I find the creamy expanse of her back any less tempting than the front of her?

I step closer, and my fingers brush her spine as I grasp the zipper.

The contact sends a visible shiver through her, and her breath catches. Slowly, deliberately, I lean in closer to ease the small tab up, savoring the moment.

I’m close, so close, inhaling her feminine scent.

Innocence, wrapped in vanilla, and layered with amber. Different from what I’m used to, but even more intoxicating. From the soap in her bathroom? If so, I’ll have the housekeeper order a case of the stuff.

As I finish, my nose nearly brushes against her hair.

Instinct urges me to bury my face in the crook of her neck and breathe her in more deeply.

But I’m already too close to losing my control when it comes to her.

Having her beneath my roof, so near…

Determinedly I call on my restraint and instead twirl a tendril of her hair around my finger.

Our gazes meet in the mirror.

Her eyes are wide, her lips parted a little, and her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths.

I’m struck by the image we make together, her delicate frame dwarfed by my larger one, the contrast between us stark and appealing.

She can fight me all she wants, but she recognizes this spark between us. My Tessa is as attracted to me as I am to her.

“Will it be so bad?” I ask softly, my breath against the beautiful shell of her ear. “Being my bride?” Then I can’t resist any longer. I gently kiss that vulnerable spot where her neck meets her shoulder. “Beingmine?”

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