American Queen

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Abilene asks, stepping out of the bathroom as she fastens her earrings. She’s wearing a skin-tight gold dress with a plunging neckline, her scarlet hair cascading down in sultry waves, and for a moment, the old fear hits me hard. That she’ll always be the sexy one, the lovely one, while I’m stuck as her shadow.

I look down at my dress, a one-shouldered flowing thing, gauzy and with thick bands of intricate detailing around the neckline and hem. It’s a color between white and silver, and I liked the way it set off my naturally golden skin and hair when I tried it on.

But now I’m having doubts. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Abilene says in that voice that means there’s definitely something wrong with it.

I squeeze past her to go into the bathroom to look in the full-length mirror. I mean, compared to Abilene’s long red curls, my up-do does look a little modest. And yes, my dress isn’t form-fitting like hers, but I like the way it flows as it moves, the heavy hem and soft chiffon layers giving the occasional hint of my waist and breasts underneath, not to mention the sheerness of the fabric, which can only be seen in the right light or when the dress moves just so. There’s a very short shift underneath all the layers of chiffon to keep things from getting too scandalous, but overall it’s very sensual, in a muted, diplomatic dinner kind of way.

“It just seems a little flat,” Abilene says. “Did you bring another gown?”

“No,” I say, suddenly having doubts.

“Greer Galloway! You always have a back-up gown! Always, always!” There’s a knock at the door, and Abilene sighs. “I’ll get it.”

I’m still turning and frowning into the mirror when I hear the door open and Ash’s gravelly voice say, “Hello. May I come in?”

I step out of the bathroom to see Abilene standing in front of Ash, staring at him. She’s breathing hard, frozen in place, and for a moment, I have the strangest feeling that she’s going to take a step forward and touch him. That she’s going to try to kiss him.

But she doesn’t. After a few seconds, she steps back and lets him walk inside. When he sees me, he stops, his mouth parted as if he was about to speak and then forgot the words.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, paranoid that his expression means he has all the same doubts about the dress that I now do.

“What’s wrong is that you’re fucking perfect, and I want to have you all to myself tonight,” he growls, stepping forward and caging me against the wall with his arms. I’m acutely aware of Abilene standing right behind him, watching, and I’m also acutely aware that I almost don’t care. “That color makes your eyes look silver. And your skin looks so fucking edible…” He leans down and bites my exposed collarbone, and agonized pleasure spreads through me like a toxin, hijacking my nerve endings and my capacity for higher thought.

But I still manage to put my hands on his chest and give a meaningful glance in Abilene’s direction. She’s turned away, pretending to go through her clutch, but I know she’s as painfully aware of us as my body is of Ash.

Ash looks very much like he doesn’t give a fuck about Abilene being there, but he still drops his arms and takes a step back. “I suppose we should get going,” he says reluctantly.

“We should,” I say, ducking past him to grab my heels and clutch, and as I do, he turns to Abilene.

“You know Embry doesn’t have anyone to walk in with,” he says kindly. “Would you like to walk in with him?”

“Like his date?” Abilene asks. I think I’m the only one who can hear that note of flat panic in her voice, that tug-of-war between pleasing Ash and having to spend the evening with a different man.

“Embry is an excellent date, I promise. Greer can attest to that.”

I send him a sharp look, and he returns it with a mild look of his own.

“Which definition of jealousy did that come from?” I mutter as he opens the hotel door for me.

“All of them.”

When we arrive at the ballroom where the dinner’s being held, we meet Embry at the door looking cold and resigned in his white tuxedo. But when he sees me, he straightens up and presses his lips together, as if to keep from licking them.

Ash surprises me by spinning me into a little twirl in front of Embry, as if to show me off. “Doesn’t she look divine, Mr. Moore?”

I can tell by the way Embry’s eyes follow me that he’s able to see my body through the dress. “Good enough to eat, Mr. Colchester.”

And my answering shiver has nothing to do with the cold.

“And Abilene is doing a year’s worth of charity and consenting to be your date,” Ash adds. “So you see, we’ll each have a granddaughter of Leo Galloway on our arm tonight.”

Embry smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Wonderful.” He extends an arm to Abilene, who takes it gracefully, although she looks equally miserable. “Shall we begin?”

Ash and I walk behind them, and Ash leans in to whisper, “You’re cruel to wear this in front of Embry, you know.”

“Abilene thought I should change.”

“You look like a goddess. It’s pure torment to be around you in that thing.”

I stroke my fingers up his bicep. “And what would you do if we didn’t have to be here?”

He flashes a wicked smile. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a goddess in the ass.”