He rumbles the words near my neck, and I fight to shiver, the sudden proximity shocking me all over.
Andrew’s deep voice rumbles low.
“A gentleman never lets his lady remove her own coat.”
I grin, not looking in his direction. “You’re not a gentleman.”
“This weekend, I am.”
“And after that? What then, back to being a complete pain-in-the-ass?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll be a changed man.”
“I’ll believe that the day Domino decides to be a good, nice house cat.”
“You never know,” he utters, his words just as slow as his movements. “People can change. Even mean old beasts.”
“Even them?” I taunt.
“Even them.”
The levity is there for a second, but then it evaporates just as quickly.
Andrew’s hands are still on my skin.
Removing the coat, they travel down my neck, over my shoulders and down my spine. He slides the fabric from my body as if it were silk, careful not to ruin it.
But the only thing that’s ruined is me, an unhinged mess that only grows more broken apart with every breath that Andrew takes across my skin.
It’s like the action of taking off my coat takes forever. And yet not long enough.
Caught in an unbearable eternity, I’m almost on fire by the time the sleeves slide down my arms. Chest heaving, heart hammering, I turn the second my hands make it out, reaching to grab for the coat so I can put it away.
Andrew holds it in his hand, like a hostage.
Our fingers brush across the coat’s collar, an accidental brush. But there’s nothing accidental about the hot look in Andrew’s eyes, a piercing pale blue blaze that burns in the center of my face, as he peers down at me in the dimly lit room.
“I’ve got it,” he says.
I have no idea what’s he got.
But I know whatever it is, it’s making me wetter than I ever thought possible.
I say nothing—do nothing—as, at last, Andrew lowers his head to mine, plants his lips against my lips and presses, addressing me with the slowest of kisses—a move so sweet I’m not sure it’s real.
My hands fly to his waist, and he drops the coat, forgetting it was even there.
I forget it too in the inferno happening between us.
My hands against Andrew’s ribs, his mouth against mine, I move my lips ever so slowly, scared that I might run him off. But when he slips out his tongue and brushes it against mine, when he reaches his hands around my waist, gripping tight, bringing me flush against him, I know there’s no scaring him off.
Neither one of us.
This feels too good.
It feels too good to be this close to him, to feel his body heat. It feels too good to stand here, slowly and deliberately kissing him in an embrace so agonizingly gentle my brain can’t seem to register it.
We’re both hesitant—terrified.
I brush aside caution, determined to deepen the kiss, when instead of grabbing Andrew’s face like I mean to, I drop my hands, stunned into a solid block of ice as loud knocks sound against the bedroom door.
I jump back.
Just as Andrew lifts his head, staring towards the hard wood.
“Yeah?”
It translates more to, What the fuck do you want? But I don’t say a thing.
I can’t. I’m too much in shock.
Especially when Sabrina’s voice rings out.
“Will you two stop fooling around in there? Nancy and I have to get a move on. We’re going to be late.”
Andrew answers in my stead. “Late for what?”
“Late for getting her a dress for the wedding!” Sabrina calls out, her voice anything but sweet. “You didn’t think we were going to leave her out of the affair, did you?”
I guess I did. In fact, I hoped they would.
Andrew never mentioned I had to be involved in the festivities. Only at his side.
But with every second that I spend in the fictional, billionaire’s version of Oz, is another second I realize that pretending is going to be lot harder than I thought.
I should have known.
Dorothy couldn’t avoid her tornado. And neither can I.
I turn and stomp towards the door, letting Sabrina inside.
Chapter 10
NANCY
The rain has followed us from New York, turning to sleet and starting to beat down harder as Sabrina and I squeeze in Duffy’s Bridal Shop, a luxury bridal shop just fifteen minutes away.
Henry, Godsend that he is, drives us, shielding us with an umbrella up the front door, and I tamper down the blush that threatens to break out on my skin from the treatment I’ve been receiving.
Just one hour in, and I already feel like one of the Fletcher family. Already receiving the finest of five-star treatment even by the bridal shop employee who flashes a hundred-watt smile the second we step inside.
She throws her arms out wide.
“Sabrina!” She sing-songs.
“Jennifer!”
The two women embrace like life-long friends, while I stand there awkwardly, arms wrapped around my peacoat.
I watch the interaction with wide eyes.
“So, I’m guessing you have more needs for Hannah’s wedding?”
Sabrina sighs, unwrapping her scarf. “It’s a Fletcher wedding. What do you think?”
“I think I’ve got whatever you need.” At last, the blonde employee’s eyes land on me. “And what do we have here?”
I bristle. But Sabrina steps forward, smiling.
“Who we have here,” she corrects. “And who we have here is an incredibly special person, Jennifer,” she ushers her closer, “this is Drew’s fiancée… Nancy.”
Jennifer’s brown eyes go wide. “Your brother Andrew?”
Sabrina nods proudly. “The very one.”
“Well, well, well. I never thought that our Andrew would ever actually consider tying the knot.”
I hate the way she says, ‘our Andrew.’
I hate even more the limp handshake she gives me when I step forward to introduce myself.
I drop her hand as quickly as she gives it to me.
“Jennifer, was it?”
Her cocoa irises flash. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Maybe I’ll consider coming here sometime. You know…when Andrew and I have our wedding. Which should be soon.” My stare thins as I grin. “Very soon.”
The blonde plasters on a smile that looks like it might crack. “Of course.” She nods, her stare going back
