Page 81 of Mad As Hell

I shuffled closer, my gaze hesitantly tracking where Adam was.

“Decent body,” she mused, looking down and writing notes. “Good complexion. Your father says that you’re willing to let me have full control over the dress?”

I nodded mutely.

Her dark eyes narrowed. “I don’t want one of those bitchy little American brides who thinks she knows what couture is and then tries to tell me how to do my job.”

I cleared my throat. “I promise I truly don’t care what this dress looks like.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I trust you and my fa-father,” I added quickly.

She huffed and leaned back in her seat. “We’ll see. Strip.”

My heart juddered, and I, once again, froze.

Another annoyed huff escaped her thin, red lips. “Is there a problem?”

I looked at Adam, my stomach roiling at the greedy way he licked his lips. His eyebrows arched, prompting me to follow her orders.

But I couldn’t.

My muscles and joints had frozen to ice and stone. I couldn’t get them to move.

Adam chuckled. “She’s shy, Marietta. If you’ll indulge us for a moment, she has a friend a few floors down. I can go get her and persuade her to assist us. Rebecca, right?”

Bex’s name on his disgusting mouth kicked me into action.

“No,” I practically snarled. “Bex is busy. I’m fine.”

“I do have more appointments,” Marietta reminded me with a loud sigh. “Can we please hurry up? I swear, your father promised you would be more agreeable.”

Fuck.

I kept my eyes on the computer screen as I slowly stripped down to my underwear. I looked only at the woman behind the screen as everything inside me shriveled up.

“Height,” Marietta barked.

Adam moved behind me, a tape measure in his hands. He hooked the bottom under my bare foot and slowly stood, his fingertips caressing the backs of my legs and my butt as he went upward.

I didn’t move. I let my mind blank out as I separated it from my body.

This isn’t real.

“One hundred and seventy-five centimeters,” Adam reported, stepping back finally.

Marietta wrote that down off camera. “Hips.”

I repressed a shudder as his arms wrapped around me from behind and the tape measure circled me. His fingers skirted the edge of my panties.

“Eighty-eight point one.”

“Waist.”

The tape measure lifted a bit higher.

“Sixty-one point five.”

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