Page 100 of Claimed At First Sight

My eyes land on the leather corset again. Before this afternoon, I’d have picked this. It appeals to my rebellious side.

But now?

I pause in front of a delicate ivory slip dress that’s trimmed with lace. It’s undeniably feminine. Romantic even.

Pulling the hanger from the rack, I hold it out in front of me. The silk slips through my fingers like water when I lift the fabric.

“I want to be someone who would wear this.”

Rory peeks over my shoulder.

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

Half an hour later, I stand in front of a full-length mirror and wonder whether I’ve made a terrible mistake.

The ivory slip looked innocent enough on the hanger, but it feels considerably less innocent on me.

The silk skims my body before falling loosely to the floor, while a slit along one side exposes most of my thigh when I move. Delicate lace edges the neckline, and the thin straps leave my shoulders bare.

I turn slightly.

Okay.

I love it.

That might be the most surprising part.

Rory appears behind me in the mirror, camera already hanging from her neck.

“You ready?”

“No.”

“Perfect.”

I glance at her, lifting a brow.

“Everyone says no.”

“That’s reassuring.”

She laughs. “Come on. We’ll start easy.”

I follow her toward the bed she’s rearranged near the windows. The afternoon light spills across the rumpled covers, and she’s added a dark throw and a few pillows since I last looked.

Suddenly this feels very real.

I smooth my palms down the sides of the dress. Rory notices.

“Stop thinking.”

I drop my hands. How am I meant to do that?

“Stand by the window,” Rory instructs.

I do as she asks and she lifts the camera.

“Turn your shoulder toward me.”