Spicy Beauty (The Feminine Mesquite Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  The only thing that Addison had to worry about was…well, it wasn’t important. Bonimolean University was big. There was no frikkin’ way she’d run into him if she didn’t want to.

  After days of visiting museums and galleries with her sister’s boyfriend, it was time for a visit to the Scoville family stylist. Now that Addison was practically shifter royalty, given that her two eldest sisters were engaged to two of the most eligible shifters in Europe, she had to look the part, and that meant a visit to the posh Carnaby Street.

  Clove and Addison got out of their cab and Clove led them to what looked like an abandoned storefront, boarded up, with yellowed newspaper pages covering the windows.

  “Are you sure we’re at the right place?” asked Addy. “It looks kinda…abandoned.”

  “Trust me. I’ve been here a thousand times,” said Clove before pressing a shiny brass doorbell.

  “A thousand?” asked Addy, a hand on her hip.

  “Hyperbole. You Americans are great at that, aren’t you?” asked Clove.

  The door opened.

  “Clove,” said the slim woman with nut brown hair. She was wearing heels that nearly made her taller than Clove. She brought Clove in and gave him a peck on each cheek.

  “Sabine,” said Clove. “A pleasure, as always. And this is…”

  “Addison,” said Sabine, crossing her arms and looking over Addy.

  Addy felt like a piece of meat.

  “Can I help you with something?” asked Addy.

  “I’m Sabine, Sabine Durand,” said Sabine, extending a hand. Her bracelets jingled.

  Addy shook her hand.

  “Addison Quincy,” said Addy.

  “Come in, let’s walk and talk,” said Sabine.

  Addy stepped in first, and Clove followed, closing the door.

  The interior of the store was just as shabby looking as the front…but Sabine led them along a hall that led to a door that had light coming out of the edges.

  “Right this way,” said Sabine.

  She opened the door, and Addison and Clove entered. When Addison saw the room, she had to put a hand over her mouth.

  The room was resplendent with a soft, plush white carpet. The cabinets were made of white wood and frosted white plastic. There were racks and racks of clothing.

  An assistant, who looked shifter to Addison, was wearing all black.

  “Can I get you some coffee, tea?” asked the assistant.

  “Tea’s fine,” said Addison.

  “Coffee,” said Clove.

  “Please, do take a seat,” said Sabine, motioning to a large white couch. She sat down on the gray velvet armchair across from the couch.

  “Thank you for making time to see us on such short notice,” said Clove.

  “Are you kidding? After all the Scovilles have done for us?” asked Sabine.

  “‘Us’?” asked Addison.

  “My mother, Lauren Durand, works for the Scovilles,” said Sabine. “They sent me to fashion school in Paris when I came of age, and before that, I was sent to the same private schools as Herb and the rest of the Scovilles.”

  “Lauren, Lauren…wait, the same Lauren that works at Mesquite Manor?” asked Addison.

  “You know her?” asked Sabine, lighting up.

  “Of course,” said Addison. “Did she tell you how hard she tanned Clove’s hide over break?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll have to ask her about it,” said Sabine. “Well, Addison, have you ever worked with a stylist before?”

  “Nope,” admitted Addison. “I’m a little worried that nothing here is going to look good on me.”

  “Trust me, you’ll fit in at Bonimolean,” said Sabine. “You think that Herb and the guys pick their own clothes out? No frikkin’ way. You should’ve seen them before I gave them their makeovers. I’ve even worked with your sister, Alice. She and Herb flew out last fall for a weekend.”

  “So, do I have to wear fancy dresses?” asked Addison. “I don’t care about clothes.”

  “If you don’t care about clothes, then why does it matter what you wear?” asked Sabine.

  “You got me there,” said Addison. “I don’t want anything high maintenance, I guess.”

  “You’re the kind of girl that showers, puts her hair in a ponytail, and goes to class, right?” asked Sabine.

  “Exactly,” said Addison.

  “You want things that are practical, but you still want to be taken seriously and fit in,” said Sabine. “A mix and match wardrobe, where you can pull out random items and have a good-looking outfit, is ideal for you…and of course, you need some extra things for dealing with the English weather, and for events.”

  “Events?” asked Addison. “I’m not here to party.”

  “Trust me, things will be…expected of you,” said Sabine. “You represent your sister and your family. You are the only Quincy Sister in Europe right now. There are expectations.”

  “More like unexpectations,” said Addy. “What sort of events do I need clothing for?”

  “You need a good selection of outfits so you can have something on hand for every situation,” said Sabine. “And any time you wear one, just put it in your laundry, and it’ll get swapped out for another appropriate outfit.”

  “It’ll get swapped out of the laundry? By who, the laundry fairies?” asked Addison. “That’s crazier than believing in vampires.”

  “They handle your laundry at Bonimolean,” explained Clove. “It includes dry cleaning.”

  “I have connections with the laundry department at Bonimolean,” said Sabine. “Just put the outfits in the specially marked garment bags they come in, and they get sorted and sent back to me.”

  “Why can’t I just wear the same outfit twice?” asked Addison.

  Sabine looked at Clove.

  “Is she serious?” asked Sabine. “I don’t think she understands how she’ll be treated at Bonimolean.”

  “Hello? I’m right here,” said Addy, crossing her arms.

  “You’re a Quincy, and two of your sisters are with Scoville Brothers,” explained Clove. “So, if somebody marries you…”

  “…Then what? They’ll get American citizenship?” asked Addy.

  “No, dear, they’ll forge a relationship with the Scovilles,” said Sabine. “Americans don’t have royalty, but at Bonimolean, you’ll be treated like what you are.”

  “Like what I am?” asked Addy.

  “Let me put it this way,” said Clove. “If Herb and Alice are the future emperor and empress of the spice world, that makes Abby and me the queen and king, and you…a princess.”

  “A princess?” asked Addy.

  “Not in title, but in terms of social reception, yes,” explained Sabine. “So, you need to look the part.”

  “Fine, but I’m not wearing heels,” Addy warned Sabine. “Heels are where I draw the line!”

  An hour later, Addy was in a pair of heels, the most gorgeous heels she’d ever worn, and they were to be her daytime heels. They felt like comfy sneakers. Maybe designer shoes weren’t all a rip-off. Addy looked at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. She wasn’t wearing makeup but had been given a quick face wash and moisturizing treatment to clean her up a bit. Her hair would eventually be treated to maintain the texture she so desired (she had opted for a defrizzing treatment so that she could maintain a wavy hair texture). Her hair had been quickly put up in a neat bun, with a headband, and she was wearing a new pair of glasses that had been made for her before her visit, by one of the most fashionable optometry shops in London. The glasses were still thick and cat-eyed, as was her preference.

  She was wearing a pearl necklace, with small gray pearls. On her body was a dress that had a structured skirt but an unstructured bodice. She could sit in it and have her knees covered, but it wasn’t long enough to look too matronly. The skirt was pleated, and the soft fabric and voluminous skirt both accentuated her curves. The dress was surprisingly comfortable. It was a daytime dress, but it sti
ll looked fancier than anything she was used to wearing.

  “Come on out and try on the cardigans,” said Sabine. “You’re lucky you like something in style.”

  “All right, all right,” said Addy. She walked out of the dressing room and closed the door behind her. The dressing rooms were on the second story of the giant boutique, which looked like a fancy private library in terms of form. The dressing rooms opened up onto a balcony, and then there was a curved staircase leading down the stairs to the main floor.

  Addy took hold of the guardrail and looked down. Sabine was sitting with her tablet and Clove was looking at himself in a mirror, comparing ties…but there was a third person there. He was wearing his usual outfit of a black shirt with a belt and jeans. This time, the shirt and belt had silver colored accents, and his jeans and sneakers were gray. The black streak in his hair remained.

  The figure was staring right at her, and she realized that he could see her staring back at him.

  It was Sage.

  Addy turned away, blushing. What the heck was he doing here? It didn’t take a stylist to come up with his outfits…at least, Addy didn’t think so. She’d seen outfits like that before on so many Southern bad boys. Sage was supposed to be in Oslo, at the Scoville Manor, visiting his grandfather. How the heck had he made it back to London so quickly? It was so hard to think of Sage as anything but a brash braggart of a bad boy that made the usually quiet, dreamy Addy want to argue with him. She had tried her best to ignore him when she’d first seen him over the previous summer, when her sister Alice and his older brother Herb had been rivals, before their engagement. She’d seen him next at the Mesquite Manor for Alice and Herb’s surprise engagement party, and she’d spent the winter break in the peace and quiet of Mesquite Manor. She’d only had to endure Sage’s presence on the flight from New York to London because Addy and Clove had flown from Texas to New York City and transferred onto the Scoville family’s private plane, which was taking Addy and Clove to London and taking Sage to Oslo.

  Sage was the only thing that had the potential of ruining her time at Bonimolean. He was a cocky bastard, a bad boy who didn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own, and bookworm Addy liked things, well, by the book! She couldn’t imagine that Sage had the smarts or the skills to have earned a place at Bonimolean without his family’s name. He seemed to care more about dressing and partying like a rock star than studying. She couldn’t imagine Sage being like Herb or Clove, serious about hunting down a fated mate. Yes, she could imagine Sage’s polar bear shift running across the frozen Nordic beaches and hunting for fish, but Sage, hunting for a mate? No frikkin’ way. And the last thing that Addy needed was a distraction, especially one in the form of a guaranteed broken heart. Guys like Sage were sexy, but they were nothing but trouble. She just knew it.

  She walked down the stairs quickly.

  “Careful,” said Sabine. “Take them slowly. You’re still learning to walk in those.”

  Addy slowed down like Sabine said.

  Sage looked at Addy. He had never seen her like this before. She was walking like a young deer taking its first steps, wearing a pair of shoes that barely qualified as heels. They were leather shoes with a bow on the tip, a bow made of flat grosgrain ribbon. Her dress hugged her curves but was also modest enough so as not to reveal anything she didn’t want revealed. Her ample bosom was on display, but her butt seemed to be hidden…at least, until Addy turned and revealed that her butt made her skirt stick out a bit in the back, like a bustle skirt. It was quite the silhouette.

  Sage’s bear roared. Addy had always looked amazing to him. Seeing her in these clothes didn’t change that. All it drove home was the reality of the fact that he’d have to spend a semester resisting her and those curves. At least they wouldn’t be rooming too closely together. There was no way that a dreamy bookworm like Addy hadn’t opted for the more romantically designed all-female dorm. He was glad to see that given all the changes Sabine made, Addy still had on those cute glasses.

  The bear roared louder. The polar bear didn’t give a frikkin’ darn about clothing or glasses! It wanted Sage to make a move. Sage dressed like a bad boy and now, it was time to act like one and just sweep Addy up in his arms and give her a kiss. After all, she was walking right toward him.

  “Stare much?” asked Addy, a hand on her hips, before turning and walking toward Sabine. She couldn’t believe she’d caught Sage gawking at her.

  “You wish,” said Sage. The bear roared. What the heck was Sage doing?

  Sabine passed Addy a teal cardigan. Her shoes were black, and her dress was navy blue. Sabine didn’t approve of the color and tried a gray with silver threads. That earned her approval.

  Sage watched as Sabine played dress up with Addy. Never in a million years did he think he’d see Addy here. He’d intended to come pick up his clothes and leave, but all he wanted to do now was stay and watch Addy.

  Sage took a seat on the couch.

  “You can go, you know,” said Sabine, not turning to Sage. “All the things you ordered are in the package.”

  “I don’t have anything else to do today,” said Sage. “I might as well watch the show.”

  “Uh-uh, no way,” said Sabine. “If you’re going to be here, you’re going to be trying on clothes, or you’re going to be put to work…and given I know you can’t sew, given how you tried to sew your old blazer back together and absolutely mangled it, go try on something. Martha! Did you swap out Sage’s suit?”

  “Not yet,” said Martha, the assistant.

  “Bring it back out,” ordered Sabine. “Sage, you know the deal. Martha, grab a pair of shoes in his size. Black. Any old pair will do for this. Thanks.”

  Sabine folded the cardigan and put it down.

  “Okay, so we’ve got you a few outfits for class,” said Sabine.

  “A few? I only tried this on,” said Addy.

  “Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” said Sabine. “You wanted a mix and match wardrobe. We’ll just order you a bunch of the same dress and cardigans in different colors that go together. You made my job easy. However, formal dress wear is a-whole-nother game. Martha’s put another outfit upstairs for you already. Go put that on, and the shoes. Those are real heels, so be careful.”

  “I thought these were heels,” said Addy, stepping out of the shoes she was wearing.

  “Those are kitten heels, kitten,” said Sabine. “Now go be a good girl and get changed!”

  “Sheesh, you don’t have to tell me twice,” said Addy. She headed upstairs and went to the dressing room.

  Fifteen minutes later, Addy heard a ringing bell. She looked out the curtain.

  “Hello? What’s going on up there?” asked Sabine.

  “It doesn’t fit,” said Addy.

  “It doesn’t fit? Like heck it doesn’t fit,” said Sabine. “What’s wrong? Is it too tight?”

  “I can’t reach the zipper,” said Addy.

  “Is that all?” said Sabine. “That’s normal. Come on out. Let’s see it.”

  “Okay, one second,” said Addy.

  Addy adjusted herself in the mirror and put on the heels carefully. They were not easy to walk in at all.

  She walked out to the balcony, holding the dress together in the back.

  “How’s it look?” asked Addy.

  “I can’t tell until it’s zipped up properly,” said Sabine before she clapped her hands. “Sage! Zip her up!”

  Addy turned. Sage had been in the other dressing room, and he had managed to get dressed on his own. He was wearing a suit, black, with a charcoal black shirt and an ash gray square and tie, with black leather shoes…and he was looking at her like he had never seen a woman before. Addy frowned. Why did he have to make this more difficult than it had to be?

  “Do you mind,” said Addy, because it wasn’t a question, as she turned away from Sage.

  “Not at all,” whispered Sage as he zipped the zipper up Addy’s back slowly, in one go. The only thing Addy could hea
r was the purr of Sage’s deep, sexy voice and the metallic sound of the zipper. She felt the hot breath of Sage’s voice on the back of her neck as the cold metal of the zipper touched her back.

  “You two done making out up there?” asked Sabine.

  Addy turned, but Sage didn’t move. She was facing him, or rather, his chest. She looked up. Sage was looking down at her, his brilliant blue eyes meeting hers. He had a five-o-clock shadow and looked like he had no business dressing in a suit that nice.

  “Down the stairs,” said Sabine. “You know the drill.”

  “Ladies first,” said Sage, motioning toward the stairs.

  Addy walked toward the stairs carefully. As she tried to go down a step, she had to grab the banister for support.

  “Ugh, really?” asked Sabine. “Okay. Sage, help her down the stairs.”

  Before Addy knew what was happening, Sage had a hand on the small of her back, where his hand had been just moments before when he was helping her with the zipper. His grip on her was firm, and he had his other arm free.

  “Take it one step at a time,” said Sage. “I’ve got you.” Sage moved his hand to Addy’s waist, making it even harder for her to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing.

  Addy made her way down the stairs carefully, but as she neared the end, she started to slip.