At His Revenge: Sold to the Enemy / Bartering Her Innocence / Innocent of His Claim. Trish Morey
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trust me.’
‘Will I recognise myself?’
‘You’ll be the best version of you.’
Selene, intrigued by what the best version of herself was going to look like, sat still as the girl trimmed her hair, trying not to flinch as blonde curls floated onto her lap. ‘You’re cutting it short?’
‘All I’m doing is taking off the ends to improve the condition and cutting in a few layers to soften it. Stefan threatened never to use me again if I ruin your beautiful hair, although if you want my personal opinion—’ Dana squinted at her ‘—I think it would suit you short.’
He liked her hair. The thought went round and round in her head.
He liked her hair.
It was her first compliment—not actually spoken, of course, but a compliment none the less—and with it came the discovery that the feeling of flying was something that could happen inside you. Her spirits lifted and a smile touched her lips, and as well as the smile and the happiness there was something else. A lump in her throat that caught her by surprise.
‘It’s in great condition.’ Dana’s fingers moved through her hair as she snipped and combed.
He liked her hair.
The girl worked speedily and skilfully, dodging Helena, who was doing Selene’s nails.
Once Selene’s hair was dry Dana swept it up, twisted and pinned until finally she was satisfied. ‘You’re ready for make-up.’
‘Can your magic make-up box get rid of my freckles?’
‘Why would you want to? They’re charming. Part of you. We want to keep you looking like you. That’s one thing he insisted on. This is just primer I’m using, by the way.’ Helena smoothed her fingers over Selene’s face. ‘You have beautiful skin.’ The girl opened a series of pots, potions, colours, concealers, the sight of which made Selene’s head spin. ‘What cleanser do you use?’
‘Soap I make myself.’ Selene delved into her bag and pulled out a bar. ‘Try it. I make candles, too, but Stefan isn’t convinced there’s a market for those.’
‘He’s a man. What does he know?’
Selene smiled and her heart pounded because finally, finally, she believed this might actually happen. Her new life was almost visible, shining like a star in the distance.
The girl sniffed the soap. Her brows rose. ‘Smells good. And your skin is wonderful so that’s a good advert.’ She dropped it into her bag. ‘I’ll try it, thanks.’ She turned back to Selene. ‘I’m not going to use too much make-up on you because you have a wonderfully fresh look and I don’t want to spoil that.’
It took ages, and Selene was just starting to fidget and wonder how much longer it was going to take when Helena stepped back.
‘God, I’m good at my job. You look spectacular. Don’t look in the mirror yet. Get dressed first so that you can see the full effect all at once.’ She grinned. ‘I almost feel sorry for Stefan.’
STEFAN moved slowly among his guests, stirring up expectation.
‘So who is she, Stefan?’ A Hollywood actress who had been flirting with him for months didn’t hide her annoyance at his hints that he’d brought a special guest. ‘Not Sonya, I assume?’
‘Not Sonya.’
‘Why so mysterious? And why is she still in the bedroom and not out here, or is that a question one shouldn’t ask?’
‘Worn out from too much sex,’ someone murmured. Stefan simply smiled and accepted a glass of champagne from one of his hovering staff.
‘She leads a very quiet, very private life and this is all very new to her.’ He’d discovered early in life that it was best to sail as close to the truth as possible and he stuck to that now as he carefully conjured suspense and interest among his guests.
Carys Bergen, a model who had been flirting with him for several months, strolled up to him. ‘You’re a wicked man. Who is this reclusive woman that you’re about to produce like a rabbit from a magician’s hat?’
He left his guests simmering in an atmosphere of expectation and strolled through the villa to the master bedroom suite, scooping another glass of champagne on the way.
At first he thought she wasn’t in the room and he gave an impatient frown and glanced around him. ‘Selene?’
‘I’m here.’
He turned his head.
There was no sign of the awkward schoolgirl. The person standing in front of him in a sheath of shimmering scarlet was all woman.
‘That dress was designed for the express purpose of tempting some poor defenceless man to rip it off.’ His eyes weren’t on the dress, but on the delicious curve of her narrow waist and the swell of her breasts above the tight jewelled bodice.
She smiled, clearly delighted by the effect she was having on him. ‘“Defenceless” is not a word anyone would use to describe you. And I know you spend your life escorting women who wear stunning dresses so what makes this one special?’
‘The person wearing it.’
‘Oh, smooth, Mr Ziakas.’
Unused to women whose response to compliments was laughter, Stefan handed her a glass. ‘Champagne in a tall, slim glass, a red dress and a guy in a dinner jacket. This could be the first time in my life I’ve made a woman’s dreams come true.’
‘Mmm, thank you.’ She took a mouthful of champagne, her eyes closing as if she wanted to savour the moment. ‘It tastes like celebration.’ Immediately she took another sip, and then another larger gulp.
Stefan raised his brows. ‘If you want to remember the evening, drink slowly.’
‘It tastes delicious. I love the feel of the bubbles on my tongue. And one of the best things about my new independence is being able to decide what I drink and what I don’t drink.’
‘That’s fine. But, delighted though I am that you’re clearly capable of enjoying the sensual potential of champagne, I’d rather my date wasn’t unconscious. From now on take tiny sips and count to a hundred in between.’ He held out his arm and she immediately put her empty glass down, took his arm and smiled up at him.
‘Thank you.’
That wide, genuine smile knocked him off-balance. He was used to coy, flirtatious and manipulative. ‘Friendly’ was new to him and he had no idea how to respond.
She appeared to have no sense of caution. No layers of protection between her and the world. How the hell was she going to manage when she was no longer protected by her father’s security machine?
‘What are you thanking me for?’
‘For agreeing to help me, for inviting me to this party and for arranging all these wonderful clothes. It’s the perfect way to start my new life. You’re my hero.’ She stood back slightly, her eyes on his shoulders. ‘You look smoking hot in a dinner jacket, by the way. Very macho. I bet all the dragons in Greece are trembling in their caves, or wherever it is dragons live when they’re not munching on innocent maidens.’
‘Heroes don’t exist in real life and you’ve definitely drunk that too fast.’ Stefan made a mental note to brief the staff to make her next drink non-alcoholic, otherwise she’d be lying face-down in a coma before the party had even begun.
‘You’re too modest.’ Her eyes drifted from his shoulders to his mouth. ‘People are so wrong about you.’
‘You