“Is that so?” His voice is smooth, a razor wrapped in silk. “Because from where I was standing—” His hand trails lazily down my hip, thumb brushing against the hem of the dress he picked out for me. “—you weren’t just a willing participant. You were desperate for it.” I suck in a sharp breath, my body betraying me as heat flares between my thighs. “I didn’t know it was you,” I snap, ignoring the way my pulse jumps at his touch. His smirk deepens, predatory. “Maybe not.” His fingers press lightly against my waist, right where he held me against his face last night, fingertips over the two
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