Page 36 of His Darkest Obsession
She stands tall and elegant in ivory silk that skims her curves like water, the plunging neckline framing her collarbone, the open back revealing just enough skin to be daring without being vulgar. The slit that runs up her legs reveals a flash of bronzecoppery skin, and I can't see the familiar scars on the inside of her thighs.
"Oh," I breathe, the word barely audible.
My fingers drift to the delicate beading at the waist, tracing the intricate pattern. The dress transforms me, erasing the scared girl who's been jumping at shadows for two years and replacing her with someone powerful.
"It's beautiful," I whisper, unable to look away from my reflection.
Anatoly steps closer behind me. Taking my hands in his, he pulls me closer to his body as his eyes find mine in the mirror. "No, Indigo. You are beautiful."
I should step away and remind both him and myself that none of this is real. That I'm just a pawn in his game against Bennet. But I don't and lean slightly into his touch instead.
His eyes darken as he notices, pupils expanding as we drink in the image of us together. Our breathing syncs, and then a moment later, so do our hearts. His fingers spread mine apart for a moment before lacing through them.
In the mirror, we look like a couple preparing for their wedding.
And for one dangerous moment, I let myself imagine that all of this is real.
11
ANATOLY
"We can haveit ready by tomorrow afternoon. But there's a few things that we need to adjust."
I nod, hardly hearing the seamstress's words as she prattles on and on in Russian about what needs to be done. My mind is still back to that moment earlier, watching Indigo take off her clothes in front of me with defiance blazing in her hazel-green eyes.
Blyat.
The seamstress continues to drone on about details of the dress, and despite both the cool breeze moving through the room and the breathable fabric of my suit, my body is starting to burn me the fuck up.
"—and the veil can be attached here, if you prefer?—"
"Fine." I cut the woman off with a wave of my hand. "Whatever you say."
Shrugging out of my suit jacket, I throw it carelessly aside, clench my jaw, and inhale slowly to try calming myself down. But it's no good.
I can still smell Indigo's floral scent from her hair even though she's all the way on the other end of the room.
There isn't enough distance that I can put between her and myself at this moment, and I have the feeling that even if she were a million miles away, I'd still be able to smell her.
Heat dances across my skin. I tug my tie loose, suddenly feeling like it's strangling me.
"I'll have to readjust some stiches and?—"
"Fine." I snap. "Just get it done."
The seamstress nods, scurrying away with the measurements and leaving me alone in the most dangerous territory I can be.
With my own thoughts.
I thought I was in control of the situation when I told her to strip in front of me. It's something that I thought would make her squirm and fold.
But somehow, Indigo managed to turn it around on me the moment she started pulling her shirt over her head while her eyes refuse to break contact with mine.
And even though I knew that she had a body to die for from the first moment of seeing her at the barbershop, nothing could've prepared for me to see it in person.
That image is practically burned into my memory now. Everything from sight to smell to touch. The curve of her waist had fit perfectly in my hand, the soft swell of her breasts in her bra still teases me in my head, and how fuckingwarmshe felt under my touch.
I'm not stupid enough to not admit that I got fucking worked up by what Indigo Taylor looked like without clothes on. And in that moment, every cell in my body screamed at me to push her against the mirror and kiss her.
