For a moment, I rethink this sexy persona. I don’t want Maksim's lewd eyes scraping over my body.
But I push him out of my mind and focus on Cristian and breaking his control.
I slide into the dress and then step out of the dressing room to a chorus of admiring gasps.
"You look like a goddess." Giana circles me, adjusting the fabric that pools at my feet.
"A proper Pakhan’s wife," Sofia adds with an envious smile.
I force a smile, twirling for their benefit while sneaking a glance at Cristian.
His expression remains neutral, but his fingers flex then relax as they hang clasped in front of him.
A silver beaded gown follows, then a midnight blue number that makes my skin look luminous.
In between each, I drink champagne, wanting to enjoy the occasion.
"Now for the most important part," Sofia announces, leading us toward the back of the store where lace and silk lingerie hang.
"What will you wear on your wedding night?" Giana holds up a sheer white negligee, waggling her eyebrows.
"Something to make Maksim lose his mind," Teresa suggests, riffling through a rack of teddies and bustiers.
I run my fingers over delicate fabrics, trying to hide the growing fear of becoming Maksim’s wife. "I doubt Maksim cares what I wear underneath.”
Sofia holds up a black corset with red ribbon ties. "Try this. It's wicked."
I hold it against my body, catching my reflection.
The girl staring back doesn’t have the enthusiasm of a bride to be.
I hate Alessandro for putting me in this position, even as I know I agreed to it.
I shake my head at the thought of Maksim. "What do you think, girls?" I turn, forcing lightness into my voice. "Too much?"
"It's perfect." Elena claps. "You'll look like sin itself."
"But what does your stoic guardian think?" Giana's eyes dart mischievously toward Cristian. "He's been so quiet."
Good question considering my mission to seduce him.
"Cristian," I call. "Come give us a man's opinion."
He remains rooted by the entrance, his gaze showing irritation. "That's not appropriate, Miss Dante."
"Please?" I press, emboldened by champagne and my friends' encouraging giggles. "If I were marrying you instead, what would you want to see me in?"
Something dangerous flashes across Cristian's face as he finally approaches, stopping before getting too close.
"If you were mine, what you wore underneath wouldn't matter." His eyes burn into mine. "Because I wouldn't be thinking about taking it off. I'd be memorizing every inch of you I uncovered."
My breath catches.
All I can think is, yes, this is what I want.
A man to desire me in a way that isn’t about control or breaking me.
He clears his throat. "Though the black would look stunning against your skin," he adds, stepping back as if remembering himself.