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turned away from his charming smile and hurried into the dressing room. “Nothing’s going to happen,” she mumbled to herself, slipping off the gown and putting on the other. “It’s not like we’re going to have sex right this minute.”
    The thought of wrapping her body around his left her breathless and weakened her knees. She reached toward the floor length mirror to stabilize herself. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Celibacy sucks.”
    Seconds later, wearing a halter-topped dress that also landed around her ankles, she emerged to find Miguel in the middle of the sales floor. Thrusting her shoulders back, she walked forward on bare feet, having left her tennis shoes behind.
    Her hands went to her hips. “What do you think about this one?” She kept her voice arctic cold, sending him a message and hoping he couldn’t see past her façade of phony cool indifference.
    “Hmm.” He tilted this head to the side, considering the dress. “Let me see.” He walked around her, making her feel exceedingly uncomfortable, warming her body in secret places. “Hmm,” he said again when he stood directly behind her. “I like the fit back here.”
    She was going to kill him. One one-thousand, two one-thousand . . .
    He came back into view. “I like it better than the first one, but let’s see the last one to make sure.”
    Samirah marched back into the dressing room and donned the other dress, reminding herself it would soon be over. This one was just as elegant, with a ruche bodice and a one-shoulder design. It gathered at the waist to show off her hourglass figure and the poly-jersey fabric stretched across her hips and buttocks before draping loosely around her legs thanks to a mid-thigh slit on the left side. The tomato color popped against her dark skin and as she critiqued her reflection, she realized this was her favorite of the three.
    Because it was too long at the hem, she had to gather a couple of inches in her hand to keep from tripping before stepping out from behind the curtain. When she appeared before Miguel again, she right away saw the male appreciation in his eyes. The lazy grin he’d been sporting when she reappeared dissolved into a long, heat-filled look.
    Walking on feet that barely managed to move her forward, she asked, “What do you think?”
    Without a word, he circled her like a predatory wolf, and she remained as still as prey, thinking if she didn’t move he wouldn’t pounce. “This is the one.”
    “I agree,” she said softly, unable to tear her eyes away from his steady stare.
    The formerly comfortable dress felt tighter under the weight of his gaze. He was no longer the easy-going artist. A shiver down her spine warned her again of the danger. But it wasn’t bodily harm—it was the ruination of her heart, possibly her soul, even, if she allowed him to get too close.
    But she was already too close, joining in the game he had started. She was getting sucked into the vortex of her desire for him, and the pounding alert of her heart echoed in her skull, warning her that falling for a man like this would be far more devastating than the embarrassment she’d suffered at the restaurant in Miami .
    She didn’t know where she accessed the strength necessary to drag her eyes away, but she found it. “This is the one I’ll get.”
    He didn’t say a word, and she didn’t look up at him for fear of what she would see. She walked away and once alone, she sagged against the wall.

    * * * *

    Samirah arranged to have the dress picked up the next day after the hem had been taken up. To go with the dress, she purchased a pair of chandelier earrings and heels she would have to practice walking in before the big event. She avoided shoes with heels over two inches whenever she could, but a dress like this deserved a pair of sexy shoes to go with it.
    “Can I buy you dinner?” Miguel asked once they’d stepped out of the store and she had her purchases in hand.
    “No, thank you. I’m