“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.
His hand brushed my waist, warm and grounding. “Do you like it?”
“Like it?” I laughed, stepping back to look at the car again. “Alexander… everything is perfect.”
I saw the satisfaction soften his expression. Not pride—nothing smug—just something warm and full, something almost relieved. As though making me happy mattered to him more than anything else.
I was still mesmerized by the car when he cleared his throat lightly.
“That’s not all,” he said.
I turned to him again, eyebrows shooting up. “It’s not?”
He shook his head, that little secretive half-smile returning. “I’m taking you to a special dinner tonight. And in the trunk…” He lifted his chin toward the back of the car. “There’s a bag with the outfit I want you to wear.”
My heart actu
