Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Ark is a beautiful man. It is impossible not to stare. His lips are plump, his nose is perfectly straight, and his eyes are so intensely imposing I swear they can see through to a person’s soul.
I’m appalled by my behavior when my stalk is busted. Ark doesn’t seem to mind. He only caught my stare because his eyes were conducting their own lengthy gawk of my face.
It is an effort to reel in my shame that I am lusting over a man above my league, but I give it my best shot. I push off my feet and head deep into the underbelly of the boutique while tugging on the zipper in the back of the dress.
“I sh-should get changed. Darius will be here shortly,” I say while recalling the new schedule Rafael handed me the morning of my inauguration.
Despite Mrs. Orlov’s numerous reminders over the past week that I am a member of Ark’s cleaning team, not his private life, there isn’t a single cleaning task on my new schedule.
I sneak in a handful of tasks when no one is looking, but for the most part, I’ve spent my week twiddling my thumbs and chaperoning Veronika to and from appointments.
The remembrance that I am Veronika’s equivalent of a lap dog should lower the excitement that slicks my skin when Ark senses my struggle with the zipper.
Regretfully, it doesn’t.
My new schedule has kept me off Mrs. Orlov’s radar long enough only to catch the occasional berate. It would be ten times worse if I were stuck in the apartment with her day in and day out, and I can’t help but wonder if that was Ark’s plan when he designed my new schedule.
“Let me.”
Ark’s full, throaty tone sends goose bumps racing to the surface of my skin. They grow in size the closer he approaches, then augment when the briefest flutter of his fingertips as he pulls my hair to the side of my neck shoots a shiver down my spine.
I hear a zipper lowering before an audible gulp swallows it.
“There you go.”
The dress hangs loosely around my frame, but I can’t force myself to move. Ark is still clutching the zipper, which now sits near the two dimples in my lower back, and I don’t want anything to force it away, not even the perceived hurt our closeness could thrust onto a woman who wants to be more than Ark’s friend.
If they’re not already more than that.
I overheard Veronika’s defense. I know she is refusing to leave until she gets the full shebang out of Ark’s invitation. I’m just confused as to why Ark is agreeing with her terms. He’s powerful and well-liked. He could have any woman he wants, so why is he bowing at Veronika’s feet?
He must want her. That is the only plausible explanation I can find.
“I—”
“Shh,” Ark whispers, his word as searingly heated as the look he gives me in the mirror while moving his hand to the shoulder strap of the dress. “We’re not doing anything wrong. I’m just ensuring the gown isn’t crushed when it floats to the floor.” A smile unwillingly tilts one side of my mouth when his following comment floats over my ear. “I know firsthand what Wilfred charges for a custom gown. The dry-cleaning bill she would impose if it were sullied before it is officially purchased would be atrocious.” The trickle of desire making me hot turns me into a furnace when he discloses the reason the gown fits so perfectly. “I also want a moment to admire my brilliance. I did well with my measurements considering what I had to work with. This dress fits you like a glove.”
Panting, I peer up at him.
Even if I want to act stupid, his eyes won’t allow it.
They tell me everything I need to know.
This dress wasn’t removed from the sale floor before Veronika could unearth its beauty.
It was never placed there since it is a custom creation.
I’m one hundred percent confident of this, and my assuredness flourishes when Ark says, “It’s not the quality of the dressmaker that makes a gown exquisite, Mara, but the qualities of the woman wearing it.”
As my breathing tapers, the noise of the film crew and the starlet they’re documenting ceases to exist. There is no one else in the world but Ark and me. But even if there were, there’s no way I could stop this.
I’m blinded by need and achingly desperate for him to finish what we started in his office last week.
“P-please.”
I flick my eyes to the side when he flattens his hand against the rouching in the middle of my gown. He’s not saving the gorgeous material from the dirty floor of the boutique. He’s ensuring it remains glued to my body while also exposing I’m not the only one incredibly turned on by his closeness.