Chapter 42

• Lana
• I stop just short of him. Only inches separate us. Close enough that his breath brushes my lips, warm and steady. Dominic's jaw is smooth tonight, freshly shaved, no shadow left behind.
• I fix my eyes there, on the clean line of his face, because focusing on him is easier than facing the storm tearing through my chest. His breathing is quick. The emerald pocket square tucked into his jacket, chosen to match my dress, jumps with every uneven rise of his chest.