Someone had drawn her—Rune Winters—on the paper, clothing her in the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. Tapered lace sleeves. Elegant scooping neckline. Fitted bodice with a subtle, embroidered pattern she couldn’t make out. An A-line skirt trailed several inches behind her.
Rune’s mouth opened. Then closed. Gideon reached down and turned the page, showing her more detailed sketches of each part: sleeves, bodice, lace-up back, even matching silk shoes.
“Is this …”
“What I’m going to make you. For the Luminaries Dinner.”
Still, it wouldn’t register.
This was a trick, right?
Her suitors had given her gifts in the past, but they were always flowers or jewelry or carriage rides. Nothing like … this. Not a dress designed for her.
Something fluttered and swooped inside Rune, like a flock of birds taking flight. She tried to bite down on the enormous smile spreading across her face.
“Gideon. Are you sure?”
“Entirely. I only need one thing.”
She was prepared to give him anything he wanted for the garment splashed across the pages of that notebook.
“Your measurements.”
“Oh.” Her smile faltered. “Right. Of course.”
The only person who’d ever taken her measurements was her seamstress.
“If you’re not comfortable—”
“No! So comfortable!” She tried to smile, but it wobbled as she thought about what such a thing would entail: stripping down to her underwear in front of Gideon Sharpe. Rune swallowed, going hot all over. If she wanted the dress, she would have to allow this ruthless witch hunter to get close enough to see her every flaw; to measure the fleshy curves and dips she normally kept hidden—not because she had scars to hide, but because she was … well, shy.
Wait a minute, thought Rune, her eyes narrowing on the notebook’s pages. That’s what this is.
Not a kind gesture. Not a solution to her problem.
He wants to look for my casting scars.
She felt that dark gaze watching her. As her eyes lifted to his, she remembered who she was dealing with. This was no suitor—not really. And the dress design sitting in his sketchbook solved his problem. Not hers.
Or so he thinks.
A genuine smile replaced her wavering one.
Rune had no casting scars. And if he found no scars, he had no reason to continue suspecting her.
Oozing confidence now—this was a game she knew how to play, after all—Rune undid the buttons of her fitted wool jacket and slid it off her shoulders. “Where should we do this?”
For a moment, he hesitated. As if second-guessing his plan. When Rune met his eye, silently daring him to back down, he seemed to find his resolve. With his notebook in hand, Gideon led her to the back of the shop, where a large, folded mirror displayed her reflection in three panels and a measuring block stood in the center of the space.
Thankful that she’d worn nice underwear, Rune undid the buttons of her blouse.
Gideon started to turn around. “If you need—oh.”
Rune was already undressing. His gaze dropped to her lace bralette and remained there for a beat, before quickly shooting back to her face, his cheeks burning with color.
“This okay?” said Rune, trying not to smirk.
He nodded curtly and turned away. Setting the notebook down on a shelf piled with white tulle, he took a long time opening to a blank page.
Rune unlaced her riding boots and took her time wriggling out of her trousers, relishing Gideon’s sudden bashfulness.
“Did you do this a lot, when you assisted your parents?”
As if he sensed that she now stood in nothing but her underwear, he didn’t turn to look at her. Only cleared his throat. “Do what a lot?”
“Take people’s measurements.”
“I only ever took Cressida’s measurements.” This answer seemed to sober him. He dragged the measuring tape from his shoulders and turned to confront her, keeping his eyes on her face. Not letting them lower even an inch. “Ready?”
“Yep.” Rune bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to stave off the chill in the air.
He stepped closer, bringing the lamp with him. “I’ll start at the top and work my way down.”
She knew what he meant, but the way he said it made her imagine him working his way down her in a … less vertical way. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. Gideon froze, opened his mouth to clarify what he meant, and coughed instead.
He lowered the lamp down to the measuring block, engulfing her in its warm glow—To better see my scars, thought Rune—and started measuring.