Black Hearted - An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Complete)

Black Hearted: Chapter 32

"You can't be serious." Good. Jack was annoyed.

His irritation melted away the fuzzy feelings she'd been having since his fingers had brushes against her hip with the oh-so-chaste peck on the cheek he gave Solana upon greeting her in the garage. Every skim of her skin, the pads of his fingers on her elbow, the warmth of his chest as she'd tugged on his tie, every touch aggravated her.

Because she wanted more.

A lot more.

And it was getting harder to resist.

When the willowy saleswoman ate Jack up with her sultry stare, Solana couldn't keep her hands off him. Flames of desire mixed with jealousy burned, and she was very much in danger of marking him as hers with a real kiss. Like the one she'd dreamt about last night. Like the one in his office weeks ago.

That couldn't happen. She would not give in. He couldn't win.

No matter how much she'd enjoy the loss.

To cool things down, she set her mind to the task at hand. Dressing Jack up in the most flamboyant outfits she could find in this froufrou overpriced store he'd brought her to. The upscale snobbery of the place didn't disappoint. The price tag of the duck patterned suit jacket she held toward Jack was better than a cold shower.

The disgust on his face was not supposed to reignite anything. But it did. They way his forehead furrowed, his nose squished and his lips, oh those delicious lips parted, her thighs clenched and she had to dig her fingernails into her palm to resist running to him.

"Deadly serious."

His face softened. "Solana." Her name spilling from his mouth in that slow drawl caused goosebumps to skitter across her skin. He took a step toward her and she mirrored his motion in reverse. She had to keep at least an arm's length between them. "I can't wear that."

"You said I could pick your outfit." She hung the jacket and the three other items on a hook on the wall in the empty dressing room behind her. As she circled around Jack to the other dressing room making up this little private space, Solana caught her reflection in the three-way mirror. Rosey cheeks mocked her.

Damn him for making her... feel.

She straightened her shoulders. "You promised."

Jack leaned against the wall and crossed one foot over the other. "I did, didn't I?" The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn't irritated. He was amused.

Hands on her hips, she dared him. "Yup. Now are you going to try those on or disappoint?"

He pushed away from the wall and for a moment she thought, no hoped, he might cross the room, but he paused and slowly shook his head. "I never disappoint." With that, he sank back into his dressing room and closed the door, leaving her alone in the alcove.

Three distinctly different dresses hung on the wall in her dressing room like Rembrandt's in a museum. Subtle folds, sharp angles and deep necklines in a collage of ruby red, glittering gold and a pretty mauve created these works of art, the likes of which Solana had seen on the customers she served but never worn herself.

Again, she caught the reflected image of herself in the mirror in this room. The looking glass made the already large space, complete with two chairs, a table covered in toiletries, and a mannequin in the corner, look even bigger. She shook her head at the luxuries of the wealthy. Just like the dresses before her, this was so not her world.

Her fingers ran along the soft folds of the full-length red gown. On her short frame, it was sure to be too long. She constantly had to alter the length of every dress she bought. Luckily, her abuela made her clothes as a child and taught Solana the basics, saving them money.