ISABELLA
He was dressed simply, in linen pants, and a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, the fabric light and flowing against his lean frame. Somehow, he looked effortlessly perfect, his dark hair tousled as if he hadn’t spent any time at all getting ready. It wasn’t fair.
His eyes raked over me, lingering on the dress before meeting my gaze. He smirked. “You clean up nicely.”
I folded my arms with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “Your money does wonders.”
His laugh was low, amused. “I was right. Red suits you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is this the part where you gloat? Because I’d rather get it over with.”
His smile widened. “Maybe later. Right now, I’m just enjoying the view.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I cursed my pale skin for giving me away. I needed to change the subject fast. I no
