Black Hearted - An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Complete)

Black Hearted: Chapter 33

Jack purred in her ear. "Try the gold one on next."

Cold air hit Solana's back as he receded, but the burning fire inside her didn't. He left her with an outstanding aching need and holding the bodice of her dress against her chest in a desperate attempt at modesty. Enough was enough, and she turned to demand he kiss her, or fling herself at him. She wasn't sure. It didn't matter. He was gone, the door to her dressing room closing with a click.

The fine material of the scarlet dress matched her cheeks as it fell to the floor along with her hopes. An appalling thought hit her. Maybe he was no longer interested. Maybe he did want to be her friend.

But friends can also be lovers. Abraham came to mind. Damn, was this how he felt around her? Always wanting more, never getting enough. Nausea stirred. This couldn't be happening. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take slow breaths.

The sensation of Jack's heart pounding against her chest as he carried her moments ago calmed her. Jack was in excellent health, fine form and transported her without breaking a sweat. No. He was interested in more than friends. He was simply respecting her request.

A silly grin broke out on Solana's face, and she covered her mouth with her hand. In a swift motion, the red gown flew from floor to hanger, and she got to Jack's request.

She wriggled into the tiny gold cocktail dress and laughed at her reflection. Even with her tiny stature, she doubted there'd be any sitting in this dress either, but for a very different reason. The beaded material barely hit the top of her thighs. Thin strips of itchy sequins tried to cling to the loose neckline, but her lack of chest made the task nearly impossible. She'd need some sort of miracle bra to make this outfit work or risk exposing herself to the members of the wedding party.

Jack had paired the outfit with barely there golden stilettos, he insisted completed the look. Fine gold threads held the soles of the shoes to her feet, yet felt remarkably comfortable. Solana opened the door to her spacious change room, amazed at how easy it was to walk the mile high sandals as well. No wobbling in sight.

With a little twirl, Solana checked out her profile in the three-way mirror. She'd say one thing for this dress—it certainly accentuated her behind.

"Those shoes are a must." Jack purred as he glided across the floor. His hand landed on her bottom, palming it like a pro. "And your ass rocks in this dress."

Ignoring the thrill that emanated from his touch, she eyed his outfit. The dark velvet jacket moulding to his lean muscles, the silk cuffs and lapels dusted with the faintest hint of silver, giving the illusion of diamonds. The jacket was conventional, yet had an edge to it, suiting Jack's dark hair. Her gaze raked down his body. "Speaking of butts, those are the wrong pants."

Jack kneaded her bottom, each flex both relaxing and exciting. "What's wrong with these pants? I had them custom made."

"They're boring."

"No way I'm wearing those velvet things. I'll look like Peter Pan."

She removed Jack's palm from her butt, taking it in hers. "But you need a pop of colour."

"What's with the obsession with colour?" The left side of Jack's mouth twitched, maybe trying to suppress a smile.

"I like colour. Not everyone is stuck in basic black like you."

His tall form bent and whispered in her ear. "Black is my brand, sweetheart."

That name. Once so abhorrent, a generic epithet she'd heard a million times from a thousand customers made her insides do somersaults now from his lips. An unrealistic desire to be his sweetheart tore at her. Even if only for a moment.