Page 89 of His To Unravel
She laughs softly, turning back to the skyline. “I don’t think I’ll ever belong here.”
“You will.” I don’t just mean the city. I mean everything—the world I’m folding around her, piece by piece.
My grip tightens, just slightly. Enough to remind her that she isn’t stepping back from this. Fromme.
She leans into it, her body instinctively finding mine, and I press a kiss against the top of her head. As the yacht glides along the water, I think about tomorrow. About what it means to bring her home, into the one space no one else has been permitted to touch.
I think about how easy it would be to keep her there.
I would give her the city if it meant keeping her by my side. And if that isn’t enough, I’ll find something else—something she won’t walk away from.
After dinner,there is one last stop on our itinerary.
The elevator doors open with a soft chime, revealing the grand expanse of Bergdorf Goodman—empty, silent, and waiting. Olivia steps in cautiously, the heels of her boots clicking against the marble floor as her eyes sweep across the gleaming displays and carefully curated mannequins. The store feels cathedral-like in its stillness.
Her gaze flicks to me, uncertain. “Nate, this is…a lot.”
I step beside her, resting my hand lightly on the small of her back, guiding her further inside. “It’s just shopping, baby.”
She hesitates, her eyes narrowing slightly. “At Bergdorf. After hours.”
I smile, brushing my thumb along her waist. “I thought you might enjoy having the place to yourself.”
Her lips part as if to protest, but no words come. I can feel the ripple of hesitation beneath her skin, the low thrum of insecurity she tries to hide.
“Is this your way of telling me you don’t like the way I dress?”she asks suddenly, her voice laced with defensiveness. She doesn’t meet my gaze.
The question catches me off guard, but only for a moment.
I shift, gently tugging her closer until our bodies nearly touch. “I love the way you dress. I love the way you are. This isn’t about changing you.” My hand slides lower, curling around her hip. “It’s about indulging you. I want to spoil you, Olivia. Let me.”
Her shoulders ease, but the undercurrent of resistance remains in her posture. “I just…don’t need all this.”
I tilt my head, lowering my voice. “I know you don’t. That makes it all the more satisfying to give it to you anyway.”
Her breath catches for just a second before she exhales, letting me lead her deeper into the store. The stylists are already waiting—a trio of them, standing in a neat row. They greet Olivia warmly, but I don’t miss the way her posture stiffens slightly under their attention.
“I’ll be right here,” I murmur against her temple. “Try on whatever catches your eye.”
She nods, though there is still hesitation in the way she approaches the racks of clothes, fingers brushing over fabrics without fully committing.
I lean against one of the display tables, watching her closely.
The first few dresses are safe choices. Olivia is drawn to modest cuts and neutral tones—classic but unremarkable. She steps out in one, a soft cream-colored sheath that hugs her figure delicately.
I trail my eyes along the lines of her body, slow and deliberate as I cross the room to meet her.
“It’s beautiful, but…” My tone says what I don’t:It isn’t enough.
Her brow lifts in amusement. “You’re not impressed.”
I smile faintly, trailing my fingers over the fabric near her waist. “I’m holding out for something else.”
She laughs, disappearing behind the curtain once more. Thenext few choices are better. A red slip dress that makes my breath falter. A black number that clings just enough to make me curse the stylists’ presence.
And then she steps out in a gown. Midnight blue, sleek and dangerously elegant, the slit rising just high enough to make my mouth water. I straighten from where I lean, my hands sliding casually into my pockets to keep from reaching for her.
Olivia notices the shift. “I take it you like this one,” she says with a smirk.
