“No,” he replied with a soft laugh, his amusement clear. “It’s an evening gown, perfect for a romantic dinner at the finest restaurant the resort has to offer. That photographer who snapped us kissing earlier? He’s going to catch us again, dining together, sharing an intimate evening. And later, he’ll capture us dancing.”

“I’m not dancing with you.” She crossed her arms firmly.

“This dress begs to be danced in,” he teased. His hands moved to ...