Lyra smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, checking herself in the mirror one last time. Her hair had been looking especially lush lately, curling thick down her back.
“You look so good.”
She turned to see Jake leaning in the doorway, watching her with dark eyes. He wore gray slacks and a green dress shirt that made his eyes shine, his sleeves rolled to the forearms. He took a slow step toward her.
“I like the dress,” he murmured, curling his fingers into the hem. “I’d like it better on the floor.”
“Jake,” she warned, fighting a smile. “We don’t have time for that. We need to get going.”
His hand slid up her thigh, warm and deliberate. “We don’t need to rush. They’re not going anywhere.”
She rolled her eyes, slipping from his grasp. “You’re just trying to avoid it.”
He cau
