“I do my share of manscaping, too,” he informs. “All this takes a bit of effort.” He gestures to himself.
My eyes peruse him from head to toe lazily, but then my cheeks go beet red.
He barks out a laugh but then moves closer, then leans over and tucks a curl behind my ear. “You’re already beautiful, Violet. No primping or makeup even necessary. Those dimples are one of your best assets.” He moves away and eyes my legs, or maybe my butt, or maybe both before he goes, I sway on my feet briefly. I sway toward him, like he’s got some sort of gravitational pull.
He looks over his shoulder at me and winks before he moves further away but then he stops and stares out the window. “What happened out there?” His back has gone arrow-straight.
“Do you mean the furniture cushions and lanterns? I put them away. I was out there and didn’t want them getting ruined with the weather. Or blowing away. It was getting a bit nasty earlier.”
He looks at me strangely. “Thank you.”
I shrug.
“You sweep out there, too?” he asks.
“Yeah. There were lots of leaves.”
He gives me a weird look. “You don’t have to do that shit. You’re a guest.”
“Aren’t I your prisoner?” I volley.
He smirks. “Yeah, actually. You are. And I demand you not do any manual labor.”
And then he turns and disappears down the hall.
I watch him go and continue to watch where he went, gaping at the hallway. It’s been a long time since Ray complimented my looks. I’m not a superficial person who believes that looks are everything, but it sure is nice to get a compliment. And as serious as Killian is at times (very), he’s also playful and fun.
I finish cleaning up and grab the extra shoes as well as my jewelry and go back to my room to finish getting ready.
I’m thrilled to have my christening necklace back. I always planned to save it for my first child. And there’s my diamond earrings and solitaire diamond necklace, a grad gift from my folks. They’re not overly flashy, just small princess cut diamond studs with a gold choker that has a matching diamond pendant inside the letter V, but I know my mom saved up for them and they mean a lot to me. I’ve only worn them on special occasions, but I’ve already decided they’re not coming off anytime soon – now that I’ve got them back.
In addition to that, I have back a pair of birthstone earrings from my grandparents that I got when I turned twelve and was allowed to finally get my ears pierced as well as a V initial ring that I got when I was sixteen from my parents, a delicate but much-loved Gucci-style silver bracelet that my brother bought me for Christmas two years ago, and a gold anklet that Susanna bought me for my sweet sixteen birthday.
After putting my make-up on, I see myself in the bathroom mirror with my necklace and earrings on and I smile with relief. They have been sitting in that pawn shop for months. I was panicked about getting them back.
A spike of anger tries to penetrate but I evade. I push it off. I don’t need to feel that right now. I don’t need to give Ray any more of my emotion.
Instead, I slip into the dress Killian chose for me to wear tonight and it makes me instantly feel like a princess. I look in the mirror at my reflection. Oh. Correction: a sexy princess.
The bodice is a scoop-neck lace with short sleeves. It’s glittery and translucent, laying over a champagne-colored taffeta A-symmetrical dress with a full skirt that comes to just above the knee in front, scooping just below in back.
It feels amazing.
I slip on the black strappy stilettos I liked the most and fluff my hair out. It has dried curly and needs just a bit of product to tame it. I step into the bathroom and spritz some perfume before transferring from my handbag to a little black patent wristlet pocketbook that I use for nights out. That I used to use when I went places besides work or the supermarket. I’m glad I brought it with me. I only did that because I had some identification in it in my underwear drawer at home. It’s big enough for my phone, keys, bank card, and a few essential cosmetics.
I check myself out in the full-length mirror and I feel good. Really good. I gave myself a shimmery but clear manicure earlier and did my toes in a rose gold polish. Not bad, if I do say so myself.
I step out of the room, carrying my regular work winter coat, which is a simple black peacoat and knowing it really isn’t fancy enough for tonight, but I need something, and my only other option is a ski jacket.
I see him by the door, doing something on his phone. My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing a black tuxedo and he looks incredibly handsome. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and rugged looks good on him, especially with the tuxedo. His eyes bounce up from his screen and then they narrow for a split second as I approach him.
His lips part and I could swear he’s looking at me like he likes what he sees. But he’s also angry.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“No.”
My heart sinks. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll survive. You just stole my breath for a minute. You’re a beautiful little thief.”
I swallow, and not without difficulty.
“You look beautiful, too. I mean… handsome.” I blush.
He smiles big, then crooks his arm. I take it, and we leave.
I swear there’s a frizzle of sexual tension sizzling between us in the elevator going down, though neither of us make eye contact.
What’s happening here, what’s been happening since I’ve been here? It feels dangerous. And exciting. And confusing. I’m not sure I’m emotionally equipped for any of it, but here I go, walking out of the elevator into the lobby instead of the underground parking garage and he grabs my hand, making my heart skip a beat.
He squeezes reassuringly and our eyes meet.
Am I safe with him? It really feels like I am. I feel like I’ve never been safer. And it’s so very strange to feel like this.
A moment later, we’re inside the back of an SUV, driven by a well-dressed man named Stan, who knew my name when he greeted us and introduced himself.
My heart races the SUV we’re in as we speed toward the opening of Numbers.
24
Killian
She looks incredible. The best part, though, isn’t how she looks; it’s how she looked at me tonight.
A man knows when he can catch female attention with his looks, and I know I’ve got that, but it rarely pleases me to see a woman looking at me with lust and appreciation because frankly, when I see a woman eyeing me, my first instinct is usually suspicion. What is her game? What does she want? I’ve always seen it as them noticing me and then immediately scheming on how to go about getting their hooks in. For my money, to be seen on my arm as a status symbol, to use me to get theirs back against someone else.
I know Violet isn’t like that.
I’ve always preferred to do the pursuing and I would bet money she would never be the one to pursue a guy.
I’ve never been truly bitten because I see through people. I see intentions as if it’s a second sight.
Good girls avoid men like me. Naughty girls pursue me and that turns me off. I’ll play. I’ll spend time with them. But I’m not about to get serious with them.
I know she looks at me with appreciation for getting her out of the situation she was in, but I also know she finds me desirable and the vibe she gives off isn’t predatory. It’s cute. She thinks I’m unattainable for her - for what reasons I can only guess is mostly about her being in a shitty situation right now. Her confidence has taken a hit.