The car moved steadily through the evening traffic, the low hum of the engine blending into the muted rhythm of the city. Wet pavement reflected the streetlights in long ribbons of gold and white that slipped across the windshield and vanished beneath the hood. Zane kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel, posture controlled out of habit rather than ease.
Concentration was becoming harder to maintain.
Every passing streetlight altered the color of her dress, shifting the silk from deep blood red to darker shades that suggested heat beneath shadow. The fabric moved with each breath she took, fluid and deliberate, catching brief flashes of light from the dashboard before dissolving back into darkness. The long slit exposed a line of pale skin each time she shifted, nothing theatrical and nothing accidental. The effect was precise enough to feel intentional even if she had never admitted it.
He had not expected that dress.
