Emily’s POV

"Look at yourself, Emily," Daniel whispered, his deep voice vibrating right against the back of my neck.

He stood behind me in the grand mirrored dressing room, his broad hands resting heavily on my waist. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected everything—the soft glow of the recessed lighting, the flush on my cheeks, and the absolute devotion in Daniel’s dark silver eyes.

He slid his dark silk button-down shirt over my shoulders. It was far too big for me, falling past my thighs, smelling rich with his woodsy cologne.

"It looks better on you than it ever did on me," he murmured, his long fingers moving to the top button....