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The room next door was open and a woman with black hair and striking green eyes was just shutting off the light and closing the door. She looked us over, her darkly painted lips twisting as though she’d been sucking on lemons.

Both women paused and I glanced down at Juliette. Her spine was ram-rod straight, and her chin raised stubbornly, but she was blushing fire-engine red and I had to stifle a laugh at the sight.

“Juliette,” the woman greeted stiffly.

“Hello, Irina,” Juliette responded in kind. “Have a pleasant evening.” Then she gripped my waist tighter and urged me forward. We walked out into the night, relatively quiet for New York, but then Lincoln Center wasn’t a place for nightlife in the off season. I cuddled Juliette close as we took the red line to our apartment in Chelsea. Then I spent the night working on my goal to brand her body and make sure there was no question who she belonged to.

***

“Fucking hell,” I breathed, completely stunned. Much to my delight, Juliette wasn’t very traditional and had allowed me to accompany her to help pick out a wedding dress.

She’d tried on four dresses and as she walked out of the dressing room in the fifth, I was blown away. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. Well, actually, it did hurt because my groin was stiff and ready for me to rip the dress right off of her.

It was strapless, the top made of a rich, black velvet, made up of diagonal folds all the way around. It hugged her breasts and with the dipped neckline, it gave her sexy as fuck cleavage. A wide, satiny black sash settled just above her bump with a matching flower attached at the right side. My eyes continued downward, following an airy, flowing, white fabric all the way to the floor. Doing a second perusal back up, I went all the way to her head where she’d put on a headband that mirrored the sash, with white netting covering a portion of her face.

“Do you like it?” she asked hesitantly. “I know it’s not the traditional all white, but—l—”

I stood and swiftly approached her, pulling her into my arms and kissed her senseless. “It’s perfect,” I whispered when I pulled away. “Now go change before I accidentally rip it while I fuck you in the dressing room.”

Her skin turned a charming shade of pink but her eyes flared with desire. It took all of my strength to turn her around and urge her back into the dressing room with a light smack on her ass.

I sat down to wait, more than ready to get my girl home and in bed. Although, we had one more stop to make, the stop I’d earned in the bargain when she convinced me to participate in all of the wedding prep over the week we had off together. Juliette was a no-nonsense kind of woman and she’d been quick and decisive with all of the decisions she’d had to make. In the end, I really hadn’t minded being dragged along to all of the appointments. But, I was still going to make her hold up her end of the deal.

She emerged from the changing room, back in her street clothes and spoke with the clerk for a few minutes. The other woman took the dress and went through a door at the back of the store. With my hand on her lower back, I guided Juliette to the front and pulled out my wallet to pay for the garment.

“No, Declan,” she protested. “I’ve let you pay for everything else.” Only after I’d used my powers of persuasion to convince her to stop arguing with me about it. “But, if my parents were alive, they would be paying for my dress. It’s the bride’s responsibility!”

I tugged her into the circle of my arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “Baby, I would have convinced them to let me pay for everything, so you might as well stop fighting it. Besides, how many times do I have to explain how this works? We’re getting married. What’s mine is yours and”—I surreptitiously slid a hand between us and cupped her pussy, grinning when she gasped—“what’s yours is mine.”

“Declan!” she hissed, looking around frantically. I kissed her nose again and took advantage of her distracted state to whip out my credit card and pay for the dress.

She grumbled all the way to our next stop, causing the cab driver to throw me looks of pity, to which I responded with a wide, satisfied smile. He then looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I could only assume the man had never had a woman like Juliette, or he would have understood. His look of envy when we pulled up to the exclusive lingerie boutique was icing on the cake. Until he stared at Juliette’s ass as she climbed out of the car. I growled in warning and lowered his tip to almost non-existent. Bastard.

We left the store with two large, red shopping bags and hailed another cab. I glared at the driver from the moment he pulled up and he wisely averted his eyes. Juliette noticed this time and rolled her eyes before sliding across the bench seat. But her cheeks were a little pink and a smile was playing around the corners of her lips.

Despite her vocal denials to the contrary, she loved how possessive I was of her. I hauled her across the seat and snuggled her into my side. I couldn’t wait to get home and dig through the bags of new treasures.

But, when we finally got home, Juliette burst my bubble by informing me that the bags were for the honeymoon and proceeded to store them away in the closet while I stood back, mouth hanging open in shock.

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