As if he could read her mind, Rafiq’s lips twitched into a sly smirk.
“You know, I should have you pay for my dry cleaning. Since you have taken a liking to my wardrobe.” He crossed his arms against his chest as his eyes bored russet holes into her.
“I told you I had nothing decent for me to wear to bed, so stop being a bully about it.” Ziza tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips, cursing her decision when his shirt rode up a little. Luckily, he kept his eyes up north.
“Trust me, what they packed for you is more decent than what you are wearing right now. Besides, we visited Venice many times over the past week. There were many boutiques you could have chosen decent night wear from.” This time, Rafiq’s eyes did a quick sweep of her from her feet up to her hair, making Ziza’s face burn as she removed her hands from her hips and clenched her hands at her sides instead.