Luka ignores me and walks into the room. “Bed, desk, and a brand-new wardrobe. We can send for more of your personal things after the wedding.”
I follow his eyes to the wooden armoire in the corner and walk over and pull the doors open. I’m met with a wall of black and red and lace. It looks like I’ve stumbled into the closet of a desperate housewife. My dresser at home is full of jeans, t-shirts, and ratty sweatpants. Searching for anything that I would even remotely consider wearing, I open one of the drawers in the bottom of the armoire and blush a deep red the same color as the thongs and matching bras in the drawer.
“I’m not wearing this.” I slam the drawer shut and tighten my arms around myself. “I’m not wearing someone else’s lingerie.”
I furrow my brow. “How? I just agreed to yo
