Twenty-One
Elliot whisked us back to Milan and the hotel in no time—the guy sure got used to driving a quarter million dollars worth of speed in a hurry. As we changed for Ferrero’s after party, I considered what he had said about me.
Was I really waiting to explode just beneath the surface? Or was I really just a plain and dull as I always imagined myself to be?
“Did you bring that slinky dress?”
“What dress?” I asked, turning away from my selection of clothes long enough to wonder what he meant.
“The one you wore at that first party. Gray. Shiny.” He c****d his eyebrows for emphasis. “Slinky.”
Oh, that dress. “Yes I brought it. Why?”
His eyebrows dropped, hooding his lids in a seductive, bedroom-come-hither look. “Wear that.”
My cheeks burned and I felt a rush of tingling heat sh
