The boutique was sophisticated, the kind of place I rarely visited but that knew exactly how to make a woman feel special. Isa was huddled between elegant racks and shimmering displays, her eyes too big for the size of the store.
She looked intimidated, as if she might break something just by breathing. Still, she smiled — that shy smile that always melted any remaining hardness in me.
"Are you sure we can be here?" she asked quietly, sliding her fingers over a blue satin dress.
I approached, pulling her hand until our fingers intertwined.
"I'm sure I want to see you in every single one of these dresses." I leaned in, murmuring near her ear: "And in the end, I want to buy them all, just for the privilege of taking each one off slowly... or not so slowly."
She shot me a look that was a
