Page 63 of The Plus One Contract

He holds up a dress, but not just any dress.

Thedress.

The one I admired on the way in. The one I pretended didn’t exist because I knew better.

It’s sleek, deep emerald with a subtle shimmer that catches the light, and I’m pretty sure it’s from a designer I can’t even pronounce.

I gawk at him. “Nathan.”

He raises a brow. “Sienna.”

I point at the dress. “Do you know what that is?”

“Fabric?”

“I’m fairly certain I could build my dream home for the cost of that dress.”

He holds it at arm’s length. “Just try the damn thing on.”

“Absolutely not. It’s too much. Do you want to know how I know it’s too much?” I answer before he gets a chance, “Because it doesn’t even have a price tag.”

“Take it, Sienna.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but the argument gets lost when he doesn’t move, so I grab it through the slit in the curtain and try it on.

Shit.

It’s perfect.

I swear it was made for me.

It’s dangerous because I know there is no way on God’s green earth that I can afford this.

I’m still staring at myself in the mirror, half in love and half mourning, when he says, “Did you try it?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I can’t come out.”

“Why?”

I sigh dramatically, fake crying into the air. “Because you’ll fall in love with me.”

Nathan’s returning laugh is unfairly attractive.

I take a breath.

Then another.

Turning back to the curtain, I step out, and he’s right there waiting.

He goes silent, and all I notice is how his jaw tightens.

“Christ,” he whispers.

The air between us shifts and thickens.

Nathan’s gaze drags over me, slow and heavy, like he’s memorizing every single inch.

Not just looking. No, he’s devouring.

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