She’s right; I have heard it before. Mostly by alphas trying to tempt me into their beds, but Kate sounds more appreciative than seductive.Does that mean shedoesn’twant to lure me into bed?Because maybe I should tell her that a pencil behind the ear is my sexual kryptonite.
“Can you tell me anything about your role?” she asks, startling me out of my fantasy. “I might be able to add a couple of features, to tie in with your theme.”
My breath catches as she smooths her hands down the sides of the jacket, checking the length against my thigh. She’s all business, but my traitorous dick hasn’t got the memo. “Yeah. Well, the ballet is called The Last Dance, and I play a young soldier sent to hold a fortification from the advancing enemy. Tragically, it just happens to be my character’s hometown, and everyone there – including my long, lost love – thinks I’ve come to rescue them.”
“But you haven’t?”
“Nope, it’s a Russian production, so we’re all doomed.”
Kate’s hands rest for a moment on my hips, and she looks up at me, her eyes suddenly cloudy. “That’s so sad.”
“Especially because I go into heat on the eve of the big battle and finally bond with my alpha…” I gulp back the rest of my words, wishing I could just as easily swallow my tongue. Kate’s staring at my lapels, and there’s a little quiver to the edge of her mouth that makes my heart ache. She didn’t back down when that bitch was harassing her in front of half the store, but my story has hurt her, and it’s not hard to guess why. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Kate.”
“It’s fine…”
“No, really. You don’t have to do this.” I start flicking the buttons open as quickly as I can. “I’ll just wear my Valentino tux…”
To my surprise, Kate gives a snorting laugh and grabs my wrist. “Oh, no! Forced to settle for Valentino. What a tragedy.” I blink at her quasi-mocking tone, and she makes a show of wiping the smile from her face. “Sorry. That was unprofessional. What I meant to say was that Valentino is a great backup option, but I’dloveto design a jacket for you. And I think a story like that deserves something special, right?”
I give a mute nod, because if I open my mouth right now, I’m liable to lean down and lick that lingering smile off her face. I don’t know if it’s her vulnerability or that flash of sarcasm, but the urge to kiss her is almost unbearable.
“Well, I’m thinking a deep red instead of blue, given that you’re a soldier,” she says, moving around me again with that assessing eye. “Not cherry red, but darker, like a claret or burgundy. Black silk lapels, to contrast with the velvet, and something striking on the shoulders. Not epaulettes, exactly, but something to mimic them, which will also play up your V-shape. We’ll add cuff buttons, perhaps brushed brass, and maybe some kind of gilding for the breast pocket, to hint at aiguillettes…” She’s been buzzing around me as she dreams up the design, but now she stops and looks up at me with a hint of uncertainty. “Does that sound like I’m on the right track?”
“You mean the bits I understood? They sound sensational, and I think your vision will be perfect for opening night.”
“Great.” If Kate’s sad eyes squeeze my heart, her relieved smile steals my breath. I can almost taste her happiness as she pulls a large sample book from under the counter and opens it in front of me. “Why don’t I show you a few things I’ve designed in the past, and then I’ll take your measurements?”
Show and tell and then her hands back on my body?I give her a blinding grin. “Like I said. Perfect.”
CHAPTER FIVE - KATE
I can’t believe I have a measuring tape wrapped around Dash Devereux’s hips.
This has to count as my fifteen minutes of fame, because I feel as giddy as a fangirl as I circle him, scribbling his measurements in my notebook.
Normally, I love working with professionals, since people who wear costumes for a living make my job easy. But I’ve never felt less at ease as Dash stands on the small dais in his tight white tee, his body adjusting perfectly to the slightest touch. I can’t tell if there’s a current flowing between us or if it’s just my hypersensitive nerves getting the best of me.
Get a grip, Kate.
This iswork, I have to remind myself, and I’ve never wanted to do a better job in my life. Unfortunately, it’s hard to focus when my head is full of his sweet tea scent and his body is warm and pliable under my hands.
“Okay, I think I have everything I need,” I say abruptly, even though I can barely read the scrawl in my notebook. My chicken scratch writing would give Dr. Green a run for her money. “You can climb down and put your shirt back on.”
“Great.”
His abs flex as he obeys, and I swallow a groan as I retreat to the counter. He’s still doing up his buttons as he joins me, and I wrack my brain for the next step in my process. But when I look up at him, his gaze is fixed on my neck, and as I touch my scent gland, my fingers brush bare skin. “Oh, sorry. It must have fallen off…”
I look around, trying to find the missing Band-Aid, but Dash’s hand shoots out, stopping me. “You don’t have to cover up in front of me.”
I blink at the emotion in his voice. “It makes some people uncomfortable.”
“Screw them.” He huffs through his nose, his nostrils flaring in a really distracting way. “And screw the asshole who did that to you.” He’s stopped buttoning his shirt, his hands now circling my wrists. I stare at him, dazed, as his thumbs brush over my fluttering pulse. “You know he’s a fucking idiot, right?”
I’ve thought a lot of dark things about my ex-mate, especially since my chat with Lachlan. I always knew Lee was selfish and competitive, but that just made me feel special, like a prize he was proud of winning. The truth is, he was too caught up in his own bullshit to appreciate me as a person, let alone as a mate. “Lee would probably say he fell out of love with me, but I’m not sure he’s capable of the emotion in the first place. Except when it comes to loving himself.”
Dash grimaces. “Ugh. A narcissist. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
I shrug, but then another, more disturbing thought occurs to me. “Do you know Suzanna LaGrange?”
