He put it on her, "...Nothing."
Maeve raised an eyebrow.
After Julian Fairchild put her shoes on, he pulled her over, straddling her on his lap.
Right now, Maeve seemed to be glowing all over, her skin was luminous and fair, the dress was custom-made to her figure, thus fitting her curves perfectly, the soft fullness making the man's gaze increasingly dangerous.
Damn it.
He should have cleared the scene first, then brought her over.
When Julian Fairchild wasn't speaking, there was an indescribable sense of pressure inside the car.
Suddenly, Maeve's earlobe hurt, Julian Fairchild lightly gasped beside her ear, his voice tinged with desire, "You're so beautiful."
"...Um, thank you?"
"But you're even more beautiful without clothes."
Maeve: "..." I take back what I just said.
"Do you know what I was thinking when I first saw this dress?"
Maeve looked at him warily.
