“You painting the new attic rooms next?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m gonna work all Sunday. Don’t wanna disturb clients with paint smells.”
“You’re a hard worker, Michael.” Despite Lizzie’s nasty comments about him, Marina liked Michael. He reminded her of her cousin’s husband, a horse trainer, who worked on a property in the mountains. He looked rough too, but he was a hard worker and dead honest. Country folk were easy to read. She missed that.
Michael shrugged. “Have to work hard. Didn’t have a dad. Started with nothing, but my kid’s gonna have the best.”
“That’s nice.” She would bet he was going to be a great dad to that new baby. Adore it, just like her dad had adored her, and she’d loved him right back, unless he started preaching. Talk about boring!
“Come sit a minute,” Michael said, running a hand over his bald pate. “I wanna talk to you.” Dressed in worker blue shorts and vest, he sat looking uneasy in the ladylike salon chair. He gestured to Marina to take a seat.
She sat studying him. She’d never gone for guys with tattoos right up their arms. She knew the other beauticians, who worked casually in the salon, found him sexy with his shaved head, slate-gray eyes and full mouth. Marina had heard them discuss in hushed tones what the short yet chunky ‘bit of rough’ would be like in bed. Marina looked at her watch, impatient to be home, as she knew James and Lizzie were waiting for her.
“Got plans?” Michael asked, intercepting her glance.
She nodded. “Pizza night with my flatmates.”
Unconsciously, he cracked his knuckles and Marina noticed the calluses on his hands. “Won’t keep you long. Been looking at the books. The customers like you. They say good things to Natalia about you. Natalia says nearly half the clients who come in for waxing want a Brazilian now. The waxing business is up thanks to you.”
“Terrific.” A sharp thrill of pleasure lighted inside her. This was so great. She measured up in the big city. She’d wondered if she had what it took.
Michael leaned forward, his fingertips drumming on the glass coffee table wedged between them and she sensed something was bothering him. “Would you train a waxer? Natalia says that the girls practice on each other.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and barely met her gaze. He gave his index finger a sharp pull and the knuckle cracked obediently. “I think it’s a personal kind of thing. I know you get on with Lizzie. I thought maybe you’d like to work with her.”
Why was Michael asking her about training a waxer? Shouldn’t Natalia be having this conversation? Marina frowned. Lizzie had warned her to stay away from him because he was sleazy. She wasn’t comfortable talking to Michael about waxing, yet he didn’t appear fine about it either. He gave his forefinger a sharp tug and Marina winced.
“Sorry. Horrible habit.”
“I guess I could ask Lizzie.”
“Appreciate that.” Michael met her gaze and grinned.
It struck Marina that when Michael smiled he was attractive because he had perfectly white, straight teeth. Even though he had off-putting tattoos, he was extremely manly with well-defined muscles and big strong hands. The type of man who could carry anything and not complain that it hurt his back.
“Natalia’s sick. So I’m asking you for her. Don’t want my wife working so hard. Gotta help with the staffing now. I’m not good talking about this stuff.”
Ah, that was it. Michael was concerned about Natalia working too hard now that she was pregnant. She let out a sigh of relief. “I’m happy to do whatever I can to help Natalia. She’s been very good to me. I don’t know if Lizzie wants to wax full time.”
“Lizzie could do the overflow. Take on the customers that you can’t manage. You girls could use the salon, after hours, to train. I’d pay you for the extra time you put in. Both you and Lizzie.”
“Okay.” Marina thought about it. Lizzie, permanently broke due to her extravagant taste in funky streetwear, would welcome the extra money. “I’ll ask Lizzie tonight.”
“Yeah. That would be good. Give Natalia a break from the business.” Michael cracked his knuckles again.
Marina glanced at his hands.
“Sorry, Natalia’s said I’ve got to stop that. Real bad habit. I’m not good at this staffing business. Gotta learn though. Gotta take the pressure off Natalia now.” He grinned again and Marina answered his smile with real warmth. The man was a sweetie. He wasn’t sleazy. Lizzie had got it way wrong. And what was unusual about that?
“Terrific.” His fingers formed a steeple and he looked into her eyes. “I’d appreciate it. You see this baby is real special to us. I want to make everything right for Natalia, so she relaxes. I want to make us a good home. Gonna fix up the wife’s house next. Make it nice. A good home for the baby. Not like the one I had.”
Did Michael feel he had to work so hard to prove himself after coming from nothing? She could tell he didn’t want to disappoint Natalia. Whoever would have thought such a rough-looking man could be so caring? No wonder Natalia was so in love despite Michael looking more suited to riding on a Harley-Davidson than sitting on one of her ornate chairs. One day, Marina hoped she’d have someone who cared about her as deeply.
“I’ll let you into a secret, but you have to promise not to mention it to anyone.” He leaned close, smelling of aftershave and sweat. His shaved head shone in the light. “Natalia’s ten years older than I am. She’s finding the pregnancy hard. She’s forty. Not that you’d guess there’s an age difference. I’m not much to look at.” He gave his knuckles a good hard pull. “Sorry,” he added.
Marina bit her lower lip, trying to stifle a laugh. Who was he kidding? That wasn’t a secret. The whole salon knew that Natalia was a good ten years older than her new husband. She worried incessantly about it, trying out every anti-aging product in the store.
“When Natalia told me you’d run your own salon back home, I thought ‘good, here’s a girl who might help the wife out a bit. Maybe manage the business, so she can spend more time with the baby when it comes.’ I mean, I know that Lizzie has been here longer, but Natalia likes you and she said Lizzie’s not interested in management.”
Natalia was right about that. Lizzie would hate the idea of managing the salon. “Thanks, Michael.” Marina’s voice rose with happiness. She chided herself for uncharitable thoughts about Michael’s ugly tattoos. Maybe it was time she grew up and learned to look beneath the skin.
Michael stood and motioned her toward the door. “Thanks, Marina. I knew I could count on you.”
* * * *
“That’s so like Michael to corner you when you were alone,” said Lizzie to Marina waving a pizza brochure at her, their take-out order momentarily forgotten.
“No, he didn’t!” When Lizzie made her mind up about someone there was no changing it. She could be really mean about how people looked sometimes. “You’re just angry with him because he told you off for coming in late for work.”
“I only did it five times. Natalia never said anything about it. He should mind his own business. Natalia owns the salon, not him.”
Marina didn’t bother replying. There was no use fighting with Lizzie. She hated Michael and that was that. “Look, Michael asked me would I train you to do Brazilians because Natalia’s pregnant and she needs to work less. He’s concerned about his wife.”
From the petulant look on Lizzie’s face, Marina could see she remained unconvinced.
“What’s he going to do? Stand at the cubicle door and watch us work on each other?”
“Oh, really, Lizzie.” Marina prickled with irritation.
“I’m telling you,” Lizzie insisted, “the man’s a pervert. I don’t like the way he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes when he thinks Natalia’s not looking.”
“Michael looks at you. So what? You’re beautiful. Of course he’s going to look at you. You turn men’s heads when we walk to work together.”
“They’re looking at you,” Lizzie countered.
“They are not.”
“Michael looks at me like he’s imagining what I look like without my clothes. That’s sleazy.” In a parody of Michael, Lizzie slid the tip of her tongue lasciviously over her top lip. She narrowed her eyes and slowly looked Marina over from head to toe, concentrating on her crotch.
Despite her irritation, Marina laughed. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen Michael look at you like that. He’s always busy working. He just says good morning. That’s it. Actually tonight was the first time I’ve ever had a real conversation with him.”
“I don’t like him.” Lizzie crossed her arms and stared mutinously at Marina. “Natalia hardly knew him when she married him. Next minute he’s taking over the salon. Rebuilding, expanding.”
Marina sighed. “The business is growing. Natalia’s very pleased about it.”
“No thanks to Michael,” Lizzie said. “What’s he bringing in? And how long does it take to add another couple of cubicles? The man’s living off her.”
“Forget it,” Marina said, not wanting to fight.
“The trouble with you, Marina, is that your father brought you up to be too trusting. You see the good in everyone.”
“And you concentrate too much on looks,” Marina countered.
Lizzie put her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to take over the waxing. I’d never do anything for Michael on principle.”
Marina threw up her hands in defeat. “Just said I’d ask. It’s not like you to refuse easy money.”
“Money?” Lizzie’s blue eyes opened wide.
“Yes. Michael said he’d pay us to stay late.”
“Pay us? For you to train me to do what I already know?” asked Lizzie, her expression brightening immediately.
“That’s right. But never mind. I wanted to work with you, but I’ll ask one of the other girls.” Marina made sure her voice sounded disappointed. “I’m sure they could use the extra money.”
“Extra money,” Lizzie repeated.
Marina tried not to smile. She could almost see the wheels turning over in Lizzie’s mind. “Littles has their new autumn stock in the window,” she added nonchalantly, knowing it was Lizzie’s favorite store. “And the Pied Piper Boutique’s sale’s still on. I saw a great bargain on that little skirt you liked.”
“I’ll do it!”
“Thought you would,” Marina answered benignly. “So much for principles.”
Lizzie shrugged. “I’m going to do it because it will help Natalia.”
“What are you going to do?” James asked, coming out of the bathroom. He had a white towel slung low over his hips. The hallway was small and the girls stepped back as he walked toward them so he could pass. The smell of fresh soap and clean male body tickled Marina’s nostrils, stirring something deep inside her.
James stopped next to her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body. Water dripped from his cropped dark hair and Marina watched it weave a pathway from his cheek, down his neck and onto his chest. He had started training every night at his Tae Kwon Do classes, although to Marina’s eyes, his body was a well-honed fighting machine.
Marina swallowed trying not to be too obvious as she eyed his washboard stomach and the strong muscles on his arms.
“So?” he asked again.
When the water drop hit James’s stomach, Marina willed herself not to follow it downwards. She failed miserably. He had a little line of dark hair starting under his belly button. She swallowed again as heat flooded her pelvis.
Fortunately James was looking expectantly at Lizzie, unaware of the effect he was having on her.
“Marina’s going to train me to wax,” Lizzie said.
“Right.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “I thought you already did that stuff. Why do you need Marina to teach you?” He shot a quick look at Marina and smiled. “No offense, Marina. I’m sure you’d be a patient teacher.”
“Sure.” She returned his smile. “None taken.”
She had to stop thinking about seducing her flatmate. He’d be shocked if he knew how much she wanted to touch him right now. Would his skin be as smooth as it looked? She wondered what he’d look like without his towel. She found herself wishing it would drop off. James would be horrified at the way she was thinking.
“I’m going to start doing the Brazilians at the salon,” said Lizzie. “Wax. Rip! Wax. Rip!” She imitated the procedure.
James looked heavenwards. “Why did I ask?”
“So, I’m going to practice on Marina because I’ve never done a full Brazilian except on myself.”
“There goes my simple bikini line,” Marina joked.
“There goes the lot,” Lizzie said.
“The lot?” James looked at Marina.
“Yes you dope. The lot. You should know what a Brazilian is by now,” Lizzie said. “You live with two beauticians.”
“I do know,” he added defensively. “I just wasn’t thinking about Marina.” He stared at her.
Her pulse leapt and she stopped breathing.
“Everything off this time,” Lizzie teased.
“Man,” he groaned putting his hands to his face. “That’s so sexy. Don’t say that stuff to me in front of Marina. Marina is off limits.”
But he didn’t deny the attraction, Marina thought, slowly letting out her breath. She smiled unable to resist the sexual energy that surged between them. She gave an embarrassed laugh, her cheeks hot.
“Or do you think I should shape a love heart on her? Do something creative,” Lizzie continued cheekily, winking at Marina.
“Enough, Lizzie! You’re embarrassing me,” Marina said. Lizzie never knew when to stop teasing.
“I don’t want to know that stuff about Marina,” James said. “Stop it! Don’t you know what saying that kinky stuff does to a guy?”
Marina closed her eyes, willing herself not to look at the front of James’s low slung towel. She looked. Lizzie pointed and laughed. “Gross! I think you’d better go play with your Xbox, James.”
James looked down dismayed. “Lizzie!” His green eyes flashed. He pushed past the girls and strode into his bedroom, his arm brushing hers as he passed. Raw, sexual energy surged into Marina from his touch and she started in surprise. James wanted her. But she was lying to herself if she thought the aroused, sensual feeling came just from James.
She wanted him too.
* * * *
“James,” Marina called knocking on his bedroom door. “We’re phoning in our take-away order now. Have you decided what you want? Lizzie wants ham and pineapple. I’m in the mood for something spicy,” Marina called. “Do you want to share with me or order something different?”
“Plain pizza with mozzarella,” James called back.
“Did you get that, Lizzie?” Marina asked.
Lizzie nodded and ordered the pizzas. Just as she finished doing so the phone, which sat on a small table in the hallway, rang. Lizzie snatched it up.
“Yes. Yes.” Marina heard her say. Lizzie spoke for about ten minutes before adding, “Only if you’re nice to me.”
Lizzie glanced up at her brother who had come out of his bedroom dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt that molded to his chest. Her blue eyes wore a wary expression. She put the phone down.
“I’m going out,” she said.
“But the pizza has just arrived,” Marina said. “I thought you were going to spend the evening in with us.”
“No. I’ve changed my mind,” Lizzie said. Her face wore a pinched, closed expression. She grabbed at her handbag and made for the open door but James blocked her way.
“It’s that guy, isn’t it? What’s his name? Fabio.” James stared at her.
“It’s not your business who I date.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I don’t like the way that guy treats you.”
“You’re not my father,” Lizzie said, raising her voice.
“No. I know,” James said gently. “Don’t go, Lizzie. Please.”
Lizzie ra
ised her pointy chin, her expression mutinous. “I mean it, James. Mind your own business.”
“Don’t go, Lizzie,” Marina said.
James shot her a grateful glance.
Lizzie turned on Marina and glared at her with narrow eyes. “What! You too. You’re supposed to be my friend. How dare you take James’s side?”
“Lizzie,” Marina said, “this isn’t about taking sides. This guy isn’t right for you. He’s eating into your confidence. Think about it, from the moment he met you, you’ve wanted to change how you look. You’re lovely. Beautiful. But you’re not happy with who you are when you’re with Fabio.”
“I am too,” Lizzie said defensively. “I just want bigger boobs. Lots of women have their breasts enlarged. It’s all right for you, Marina. You’re a C cup. You’ve always had great breasts. You don’t even have to wear a bra and you have cleavage.”
“Lizzie, that stuff doesn’t matter,” Marina said. “What matters is how Fabio treats you.”
“And he treats you like dirt,” James said to his sister. “Listen to Marina if you won’t listen to me. She doesn’t like this guy either.”
“Fabio’s nice to me, if you must know,” Lizzie said, defensively. “He’s always sending me flowers and little presents. I like the attention he pays me. He never thinks the things I say are dumb.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Lizzie? You’re not dumb!” James said.
“Lizzie, he calls you terrible names. That’s not the action of a man who cares about you,” Marina said. “He’s got weird habits and I’m scared he’ll hurt you.”
James started. “What names? What are you talking about? I’ll sort that dumb ox out if he so much as hurts a hair on your head.”
“We can’t all fit your model of perfection, Marina,” Lizzie said, tearfully ignoring her brother. “I’m not going to sit at home waiting for Mr. Wonderful to walk through the door. I know that sort of a man doesn’t exist for me. Do you think some smart executive type would want me?” Tears formed in Lizzie eyes until they looked glassy. She stormed past Marina.
James, clearly reluctant, stood to one side and let her go. “Ring me on my mobile phone if you need me,” he called to Lizzie’s retreating back. “I’ll come and get you. It doesn’t matter what time. Please, Lizzie?”
Dirty Sexy Murder Page 8
