Chapter 8
Charlotte
“Tell me about her.”
“About who?” Elijah stepped up behind me, easing up the zipper of my dress.
“Saint’s wife.”
“Milana.” He brushed his palms down the sides of my arms. “She’s lovely. The exact opposite of Saint.”
“Opposites attract. Like us.” Our gazes locked in the mirror, a silent moment that conveyed so much without a word being spoken.
He placed a tender kiss on the nape of my neck, and I closed my eyes as his warm breath caressed my skin. “I think it has been proven time and time again that you and I,” he glanced up at our reflection, “aren’t that different after all.”
The air was suddenly laden with tension, my body hyperaware of how close he was. The soft fabric of his suit jacket touched my arms, and for a second I regretted insisting that we accept S
