His cold hands ghosted over her bare shoulders as Elizabeth stared into the old mirror, only her reflection gazing back.
“This dress,” the vampire groaned, “it will be my undoing.”
Her lips quirked in a small smile, despite the ball of fear twisting in her stomach. She really did look magnificent tonight. The deep red gown hugged her closely, the off-the-shoulder sleeves exposing her collarbones and barren throat. Her fingers twirled with the full skirts, the silk terribly smooth.
She painted the picture of a lord’s partner.
The vampire pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling deeply. “Magnificent.”
“Thank you.” Her words were barely a whisper, and her heart pounded heavily. Each breath brought the rising of her chest, and she could feel his gaze on her cleavage even if the mirror kept its secrets.
Cold fingers trailed down her arms, and the urge to lean back into the man nearly consumed her.
“Yet you aren’t ready, not quite yet.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Tonight was a promise, a reminder of her future if she bound herself to this man as he so dearly wanted. Was he . . . changing his mind?
His fingers pulled away from her flesh. Before she could turn around to read his gaze, the vampireĀ held the strand of blood garnets to her neck, and her gaze snapped back to the mirror.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
Lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Your neck will always be beautiful dripping in red.”
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