My Million Dollar Wedding Dress Fit His Secretary

Summary

The words slipped out of Declan Shaw’s mouth, casual and almost bored, as he adjusted the lace on my mermaid gown.

“That fishnet skirt—Tiffany the secretary, she looked quite good in it.”

He smoothed the exquisite French lace I’d flown to Paris to have fitted, the same lace he was now admitting had been tailored to another woman.

“The girl doesn’t have a single fine line around her eyes yet, and her body is still elastic, you know?” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “She’s cute when she pouts, so I let her try it on.”