Seconds pass, followed by minutes. A warm, strong hand touches my back. I open my eyes to see Jarrod. He's dressed in a tuxedo with tails. He looks like Cary Grant.

"You're okay," he tells me, but it comes out more like a question than a statement. I try to answer, but my mouth is dry and my tongue is swollen. I might be having anaphylactic shock. Is it possible to be allergic to couture?

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he whispers.

His eyes are ...