by Celia Aaron
Alex placed a well-manicured hand on my arm. “Oh no, honey. I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement longer than my di—um, longer than my arm, just to get this job, and I still have no idea what you’re up to.” He winked. “I just know that whatever it is, you are going to look fabulous.”
Renee moved me along to the next person. “This is Juliet. She’ll be buffing your skin and doing your nails.”
“Buffing my skin?”
“Gets rid of all the dead skin cells, makes your skin look like an 18-year-old’s.” She ran her fingers down my neck and peered at me almost scientifically. “Doesn’t look like you’ve gotten much sun. Perfect. I’ll have you shined up like a new penny.” She took my hands in hers and examined my nails. They were permanently stained various colors from my paints.
She frowned, her blonde bob falling against her plump cheek as she surveyed the damage. “These will take some work. We may need to use gel to cover the staining.”
“Okay I guess?” I’d never really paid much attention to things like my fingernails.
She flipped my hands over and pushed up my sleeves, inspecting further. When she saw the scars along my wrists, she dropped my hands.
Her light blue eyes found mine. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. That was a long time ago.” I didn’t know these people. Still, they were people, and like Renee, they seemed to want to help me. I smiled at her. “It doesn’t bother me. You can look at them.”
She reclaimed my wrists and ran her fingers over the raised skin. “I think I may have a few tricks to make these less noticeable.” She returned my smile, seemingly at ease again.
The next woman had dark hair, a unibrow, and was by far the shortest person in the room.
“Yong will do your waxing.”
I whipped my head around to Renee. “Wait, waxing?”
Yong nodded and put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me down so she could inspect my face. “Brows need work…lip looks okay…I’ll do full face anyway. Everything else looks fine. When’s the last time you had a Brazilian?”
My thighs clenched together involuntarily. “The wax? Never. I don’t generally wax anything.”
Yong frowned, her unibrow like a dark caterpillar encroaching on her eyes. “I can tell. This will take some work. When I’m done, you’ll be smooth as a baby everywhere.”
“Um, thanks, I guess?”
She grinned. “I’ll go start getting everything ready. It’s going to sting some, but you’ll love the results.”
She passed through an adjoining door, walking quickly and with purpose.
“And this is Dmitri.” Renee introduced me to the last person in the row. He stood almost seven feet tall and seemed built of pure muscle. His head was shaved, though dark hair obviously grew there in abundance. He took my hand, his beefy palm swallowing mine whole.
“Very nice to meet you.” His Russian accent was so thick it made his words almost unintelligible. But like the others, he had a smile and warmth for me. I appreciated any compassion they had to offer.
“And what do you do, Dmitri?”
He released my hand and held his palms in front of me. “Massage.”
“Oh.” I swallowed hard.
“I no hurt you.” He squeezed my hand encouragingly. “Well, maybe a little. You like. Promise.”
“First, into the hot tub,” Juliet said. “I need your skin nice and pruny.” She stepped toward the massage tables. “Come on, get on in. We have a lot to do.”
“You want me to just strip in front of everyone?” I looked from Renee to Juliet and then up at Dmitri.
I crossed my arms over my chest. They could clean me up and dress me like a doll, but I wasn’t going to run around naked for their amusement.
Dmitri laughed, the sound filling the large room and making it seem somehow small. “Nothing new to me, Miss Stella. But I wait over there if make you more comfortable.” He shrugged and went through the same door as Yong.
“Needless to say, this”—Alex waved his hand up and down at my body—“does nothing for me. But I’ll still be a gentleman and wait in my booth. I’m going to need to send out for a bit more color, anyway. I’m thinking we’re going to make your red a bit more strawberry and maybe a touch of…” His words trailed off as he left the room.
Renee backed up and took a seat near the door before pulling a small book from her pocket. “I’ll stay with you in case you need anything. Just try to relax. Enjoy it. Mr. Sinclair has spared no expense.”
“First class ticket from L.A. and a sweet paycheck,” Juliet agreed.
I smirked. “Well, we definitely want Vinemont to get his money’s worth.” I stripped without ceremony and stepped into the bubbling water in the center of the room.
“I met him for all of five seconds. That man is absolutely dreamy.” Juliet knelt in a corner of the room and began removing various equipment from a large rolling case.
Was she going to use all that on me?
“Yeah, if you like tall, dark, and psychotic,” I said.
Renee snorted.
I slid further down into the enveloping warmth, and lay my head back.
“So are you really going to a ball?” Juliet asked.
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
Juliet squealed a little. “That’s just so, so exciting! And like, romantic. We don’t do stuff like balls in L.A.—I should have been born Southern. I wish I could go with you.”
“No, you don’t.” I closed my eyes and let my whispered words fade into the bubbling heat around me.
Four hours later, I was putty in Dmitri’s strong hands. I lay completely naked—my sense of modesty waxed away right along with all my body hair—and let his magical fingers work me over.
“You so tense, Krasivaya.” Dmitri had taken to referring to me as krasivaya. I didn’t know what it meant and I honestly didn’t care as long as he kept smoothing his hands over my body and making my muscles sing.
I’d been buffed, oiled, manicured, pedicured, handfed by Renee as my nails dried, and now I was being turned into a limp noodle by Dmitri.
“It’s almost my turn. I can’t wait.” Alex clapped his hands as he stood next to me. “You know, I’ve never really cared for the female form, but I might make an exception for yours. It’s actually pretty. If you had a dick, I’d definitely fuck you.”
I snickered as Dmitri’s large palm pressed into my lower back.
“Why so many girl-men in this country? In Russia, we have no such men. Only real men.” Dmitri moved to my ass and rubbed from there down to my thighs in strong strokes, as if squeegeeing my stress away.
“Is that so? I have an ex-boyfriend who came straight from Russia with man love. That St. Petersburg boy could power bottom like a son of a bitch.”
“Truly?” Dmitri squeezed and rolled my thighs.
“I had the orgasms to prove it.”
I moaned as Dmitri’s hands worked the tension from me. Had I been afraid of him? He was a massage god.
“Ah, hear that? That is what real men desire to hear. To make woman tremble with desire for him. You need to learn this. Then you be real man.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right to work on that.” Alex patted my behind. “You’re mine next. And I promise, unlike some real men”—he mimicked a Russian accent—“I won’t have a raging boner when I’m touching you.”
I giggled. I didn’t care if Dmitri was jacking off all over me, just so long as he kept pushing my tension all the way down my body and out my toes. I’d gotten massages before, but nothing compared to this. Not even close.
“How’s the Acquisition doing?”
Lucius’ voice undid Dmitri’s work and made my muscles seize.
Dmitri must have felt the change because he let out a litany in angry Russian. His hands rested possessively on my lower back as Lucius leisurely made his way to me. Whereas Vinemont was a methodical serial killer, Lucius was more of a smooth assassin. His fluid movements and swimmer’s body hinted
at quickness and wiry strength.
Renee stood and pocketed her book, but didn’t move.
I couldn’t get up, because Lucius would see me fully naked. His seeing only my ass, once again, seemed like the lesser of two evils.
“Krasivaya doesn’t like you, comrade. You interfere with her pleasure.” Dmitri’s voice was a cautionary rumble.
Lucius stopped next to me, his black boots filling my vision. “I’m certain that’s not so. I could give her plenty more pleasure if we had this room all to ourselves.”
“Well, you don’t.” Dmitri stepped around the table and stood chest to chest with Lucius.
“What, because you’re here? A hired set of hands?” Lucius placed his hand on my ass and squeezed.
I tried to jerk away from him, but I had nowhere to go. Dmitri yanked Lucius’ hand away from me. I scrambled off the table and backed away from them, nudity be damned.
Dmitri and Lucius faced off against each other, neither man backing down.
Lucius smiled up at Dmitri, as if declaring a truce with the bigger man. Instead of walking away, Lucius struck quickly with a vicious haymaker across Dmitri’s jaw. A classic sucker punch. Dmitri staggered back. Rage lit the Russian’s face and he swung, catching Lucius on the chin and sending him reeling away. Instead of falling, Lucius seemed emboldened and charged the larger man.
Juliet and Alex each came to either side of me.
“Now this is entertainment,” Alex said. “I wish they hadn’t confiscated my cell. I’d post a vid of this hunk on hunk action and make a fortune.”
“Lucius!” Vinemont rushed into the room. He saw me and stopped, his mouth opening slightly.
I slung an arm across my breasts and crossed my legs, though it didn’t do much good. I was completely bare down there now, with nothing left to the imagination.
Lucius turned and looked at me too, his signature lascivious smile returning to his otherwise handsome face. Dmitri took the opportunity to get him in a headlock. They struggled against each other, Lucius trying to buck Dmitri’s vice-like hold around his neck. Lucius shoved an elbow back hard into Dmitri’s ribs, breaking the Russian’s hold and slipping away.
Vinemont appeared to come back to himself and darted between the two men. “Lucius, get the hell out of here!”
“This is my house, too, Sin,” Lucius said. “I can go wherever the fuck I want. We’re brothers, remember?” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “We share.”
“Not this we don’t,” Vinemont growled.
“We’ll see.” Lucius dragged his thumb across his chin, wiping the blood from his split lip. He squared off against Dmitri again. “You hit pretty good for a red.”
“You hit pretty good for a devushka.”
“Ya yebat' etu devochku pryamo pered vami,” Lucius replied with a matching accent. He glanced over at me again.
Dmitri took a threatening step forward, menace oozing from his pores.
I wanted Dmitri to smash Lucius to a bloody pulp, to wipe the self-satisfied grin from his face.
Vinemont pushed each man backward. “Stop!”
“Is it hot in here? It definitely feels hot in here.” Alex used his hand as a fan.
“Agreed.” Juliet’s hand was at her throat as she watched the men, her tongue darting at the corners of her mouth.
Vinemont jabbed a finger into his brother’s chest. “Lucius, I’m warning you. Get out.”
“You aren’t the Sovereign. Stop acting like you are.”
Vinemont advanced on Lucius until both men were almost nose to nose.
“Stand down, Lucius.”
The staring competition lasted for a few tense moments before Lucius blinked and backed away. “I didn’t know you’d get your panties so bunched over an Acquisition. I should have. You’ve always been a royal cockblock.”
Lucius sauntered toward the exit before glancing over his shoulder. “See you around, Stella.”
Alex let out a bated breath. “I want to see him around. More accurately, I want to see my mouth around his—”
“Stella, for Christ’s sake, cover yourself.” Vinemont didn’t move and kept his gaze trained on me.
Yong bustled in from the waxing room—or as I called it, the room of intense pain and humiliation—and tossed me a towel. I grabbed it and wrapped it around myself so fast I almost dropped it.
Vinemont watched every single movement, as if he were attuned to me on some primitive level. He blinked slowly and scrubbed a hand down his face. “How much longer before she’s ready?”
“Three hours,” Alex said.
“Have her ready in two. The seamstress should be here any minute to fit her. I don’t want any delays.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”
Vinemont turned his wrathful gaze back to me. “Fine. Be ready in two hours. If you disappointment me, there will be a high price to pay and you will pay it.”
He turned on his heel and left, fury in his steps.
“That. Was. Intense.” Alex leaned on the massage table. “I kind of want to make you late just so you get some sort of naughty punishment. Sweet Jesus, do I want some BDSM lovin’ right about now.”
Juliet sagged with relief. “Both of those hotties want to get with you. You know that, right?”
“That first one does not deserve to even look at you, much less enjoy your kiska.” Dmitri’s face darkened anew with anger.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “my kiska is mine alone, if I take your meaning. By the way, what did Lucius say to you in Russian?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Dmitri’s glower deepened. “He is, how you say, confident your kiska will be his.”
“Well.” Alex took my hand. “I may not have a taste for kiska, but if we only have two hours, you’re mine, sugar.”
Dmitri grumbled about not finishing the massage, and promised he would be back to take care of me.
Alex plopped me into his chair and got to work. He was a madman with scissors and chemicals that smelled like a mix of turpentine and overripe fruit. He foiled, heated, rinsed, and cut, turning my scalp into a beauty battleground. My hair was still the same red, but with highlights and lowlights to set off the color. He put it up in big hot rollers and sprayed it down with an obscene amount of hairspray.
He then set about to do my makeup. I was a bit worried, given the peacock colors above his eyes and his bright lips. He made it worse by not letting me look into the mirror until he was done. After what felt like over an hour of brushing, shadowing, highlighting, contouring, and coloring, I finally got a chance to see the finished product.
“Voila!” He whirled me around and held the swivel chair steady before the mirror.
I’d never thought of myself as a ten. I was self-aware enough to know I was pretty by most standards, but nothing about me said movie star or model. When I looked at what Alex had done, there was more than just a tinge of amazement in my stare. He’d highlighted my high cheekbones and plump lips. He’d given me dramatic eyebrows with a killer arch. Most of all, he’d brought out the deep green color of my eyes. They’d never looked so bright.
“Wow,” was all I could muster.
“Wow is right, honey. That right there is the money shot. That face, that hair. One in a million, trust me.” He smiled back at me from the mirror.
Renee walked in and clasped her hands in front of her. “This is… You are… I’ve never…” It ended in no words but a high pitched gleeful sound.
The reserved maid looked positively girlish. “You are absolute perfection.”
“Why, thank you.” Alex gave a small bow.
I laughed. I was beginning to enjoy my ragtag band of beauty assistants. I tried not to think about how I may never see them again after today. It was hard to think of a reason why Vinemont would send for them again. I couldn’t imagine going to too many balls. In fact, I had a suspicion that this “ball” was quite a bit more than it seemed.
It didn’t matter what it was. I wou
ld go. I would do what I had to so that my father would remain free and alive. There was no going back, only forward. And forward meant I had to get through the ball and the 363 days thereafter.
“The seamstress is outside.” Renee calmed herself and motioned for me to rejoin the others in the main room.
The seamstress was an economical woman in a pantsuit and flats, chalk in her fingers and a pencil behind her ears. What she’d brought me to wear wasn’t practical in the least. It was perched on a model form. I had never seen anything like it short of the pages in fashion magazines. It was a deep green gown with a plunging neckline, lace straps, and a ball gown skirt made entirely of black peacock feathers.
Alex gasped and ran to the gown. “Oh my god, oh my god. I have never seen anything as fabulous in all my years and, trust me, I’ve seen more than my fair share of fabulous things. Who’s the designer and when can I have one?”
“I designed it and, I assure you, it’s a one of a kind.” The seamstress eyed me. I got the distinct feeling she was somehow taking my measurements through my towel. She quirked up a corner of her lip, as if pleased. “I think it should be an almost perfect fit with a few tucks here and there.”
Alex was gushing as I gaped at the dress. It was extravagant, over-the-top. I wanted to sketch it, not wear it.
Renee walked around the garment, examining it with a hyper-critical eye. I couldn’t imagine what a woman who dressed in plain black, wore no makeup, and seemed to do nothing to pretty herself in the least could find lacking in the dream creation before her.
“I think you are very close, Enid.” Renee tapped her finger on her chin. “Where’s the vine detail?”
“Her cloak.” Enid snapped her fingers and what seemed like a harried assistant rushed in, glasses askew, pushing a wheeled mannequin ahead of her. It was covered in a black cloak with embroidered deep green vines twining all around the material.
“And her jewels.” Enid motioned the assistant closer. She held a red velvet box under her arm.
Enid took it and undid the delicate clasp, opening the box and blinding me with sparkle. Inside lay a silver necklace with emeralds arranged in the same vine motif. A pair of large emerald earrings completed the set.
