"Tsk!" I frowned at my reflection, frustration bubbling within me as I took in the sight before me. What on earth happened last night? How could I have been so out of it that I didn't even notice the hickeys scattered across my skin? My beautiful collarbone—usually a smooth, unmarked canvas—was now decorated with three dark bruises, perfectly lined in a row. A soft groan escaped my lips as I reached up to touch them. "Gosh, Ambrose did this."
A rush of heat spread across my face, a part of me secretly thrilled by the memory of his touch, even though my rational mind knew better than to indulge. My gaze moved to the dress hanging nearby. The fabric was light, almost translucent, and I knew it would expose far more than I wanted to show. Not to mention, the hickeys on my back.
I squinted
