Chapter 18: The Dress

Lena's POV

The dress was midnight blue, and it left my back bare to the waist.

Keir's tailor had sent it over with a note that said only: For the lady's purposes.

I stood in front of the dressing room mirror an hour before we had to leave.

The zipper was open, and my hair was pinned up.

Behind me, in the doorway, there was a long silence.

"Don't say anything," I said.

"I can't."

"Then come here and zip me."

He came on two forearm crutches, slowly, with the left leg doing most of the work.

Three weeks after the surgery he could cross a room, if the room was small and nobody watched.

He stopped behind me and looked at my reflection.

He leaned both crutches against the dressing table.

"Keir."

"I'm standing."

"You are standing on a bad idea."

"The table is solid oak," he said. "I checked."

He put both hands flat on the table on either side of my hips, and I felt the heat of his chest at my bare back.

His breath came out against my neck.

"You have a quarter of an hour of this before the car," I said. "Not a minute more."

"Then don't waste it."

He kissed the back of my shoulder, and then the side of my neck, and I put my head back against him.

His hands left the wood and slid around my waist and up.

He cupped my breasts through the open dress, and my nipples hardened against his palms.

"Look at the mirror," he said.

I looked.

My face was flushed, and my mouth was open, and his dark eyes were watching mine over my shoulder.

"Look at what you do to me," he said.

I reached behind me and found him through his trousers, and he was hard already and heavy in my hand.

He groaned.

"Lena."

"Get them off."

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