Larissa's POV
Carson's gaze found mine the moment I stepped outside, then swept down to assess my dress. His jaw went rigid.
"Larissa." The way he spoke my name carried a dangerous edge. "You look absolutely stunning."
My cheeks burned with heat. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."
"I considered sending my driver," he said, pulling open the passenger door. "But I needed to see your reaction when you walked out here."
"And what exactly is my reaction telling you?" I asked, settling into the buttery leather seat.
He bent closer, his expensive scent clouding my thoughts. "That you're questioning whether this is wise."
The door shut before I could argue. I tracked his movement around the car's front, his assured walk making my core tighten without permission.
He dropped into the driver's seat and faced me. "For the record, it's not."
"What isn't?"
"Unwise." His attention drifted to my chest. "Especially not in that dress."
