“Try it,” Harriet wheedled.
Secretly grateful, Clare took off the blue dress and gingerly stepped into the red one, like it was some strange creature that might bite. She wriggled it up over her hips and pulled it over her breasts.
“It shows my bra straps,” she grumbled, desperately trying not to like what she saw.
“Wear a strapless. Or no bra at all.”
Clare cast Harriet a horrified look.
“Untie your hair,” Harriet urged gently.
After a moment’s hesitation, Clare pulled out the pins, and a riot of honey blonde waves fell to her bare shoulders.
She couldn’t help her lips tilting up at the corner.
Okay, she had to admit the colordidsuit her.
The figure-hugging silk accentuated her small, high breasts, the gentle curve of her hips, and clung wickedly to her thighs.
“You look gorgeous,” Harriet sighed.
Clare adjusted the neckline, trying to drag it higher up her chest.
“Don’t you dare cover up how beautiful you are,” Harriet scolded. “You rock this color. Go on, strike a pose.”
Clare kicked out one hip and let the material fall away from her thigh. Cocking her head, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
Would he approve? Would those dark eyes pierce into her and send her senses into overdrive?
Already her pulse quickened in anticipation.
The way the silk felt against her skin made her imagine those long fingers touching her, caressing her, that sensual mouth whispering close to her ear, those fangs… Oh, how ridiculous. She’d never even seen his fangs.
“Oh no, no, no!” She covered her face with her hands, it was all too confronting.
“What’s the matter?” Harriet asked.
“It’s—just—not me.”
“It’s totally you,” Harriet said. “A you that you’ve never allowed yourself to explore, that’s all.”
Gently, she removed Clare’s hands from her face. “Now, take a deep breath and look at yourself without judging, without seeing what’s not good enough.”
Clare raised her eyes to her reflection. Her automatic reaction was to block out the image before her, to mask, and erase the vulnerability in her reflected eyes. But instead, she let her gaze soften, let herself see what was there behind the pain and fear.
And what she saw was not so bad.
She wasn’t pretty. Her features were too strong, too guarded for that. The set of her square jaw, the width of her cheekbones, her steady, almost challenging gaze, all added up to strength, not beauty. Her body was strong from daily exercise, her muscles firm and lithe and ready for most things her job might throw at her. But even so, this dress really suited her, made her look as voluptuous as she was ever going to be. She pushed down her bra straps and didn’t flinch at the curve of her breasts pushing up above the neckline. She raised her chin and tossed back her hair.
Gray mixed with gold and green, her eyes shone back at her with an inner radiance. She even allowed her lips to relax into a half smile, then couldn’t help wondering if a shade of red lipstick would complement the dress. She’d never worn lipstick before. She turned to Harriet. “Do you think I could get a lip color to match?”
Harriet beamed. “Absolutely. I can help you match it. So—what d’you reckon?”
“I reckon—it’ll do.” Her smile widened and a spark of excitement darted down her spine. And with it came a surge of power, a feeling she’d only ever experienced in her work.
Never as a woman.
Aseductivewoman.
