from beneath his own tousled curls.
“I’m not done yet, Priestess,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “Sit still, or Cinderella’s gonna be late for the ball.”
He worked the same sort of magic with her makeup, using the cosmetics she’d brought from home. He made her eyes grow greener and more feline with a flick of the eyeliner. Gave her a polished, classy glow she’d never achieved on her own.
Lola could only stare into the mirror, wondering who that woman was; believing the Priestess had emerged for real, and could make men kneel at her feet. A goddess like that could make the captain beg for it!
“Whatever’s on your mind right now, hold that thought!” her warden murmured. “Now let’s get you downstairs for an evening gown—”
“And what’s wrong with mine? I’ve got a black strapless number that—”
His raised eyebrow shut her up again. The kid was way too good at that move—and Lola was feeling way too good to jinx this new mood he’d created with face paints and hair spray.
By God, she’d show Captain Scandalous who he was dealing with! She’d play by his rules, all right—but this time she’d win!
Why wasn’t she surprised that Clive Kingsley, the courtly concierge, awaited them in the boutique Aric escorted her to? These guys on the Aphrodite must take as much time conferring on their walkie-talkies as teenage girls spent on their cell phones.
She didn’t complain, however. The dapper Brit had set aside three of the most exquisite dresses she’d ever seen, in colors that called out to her. And all of them were her size.
Lola tried not to gape like a clueless schoolgirl as she admired each of the gowns. “But how did you know—”
“You’re not the only one who has a practiced eye at…sizing things up,” he replied with a smug smile. “And sometimes, others have a different impression of us because they have a fresh focus. I’ve chosen colors and designs you might not try on your own, assuming they just wouldn’t be you.”
Oh, but each of these gowns spoke to something deep within her: the woman who would be Queen, but feared someone would lift the hem of her royal robe and discover her scuzzy sneakers. While she could make an ordinary businessman look like a million bucks, Lola Wright spent little time choosing her own wardrobe. Tailored suits with blouses and pumps got her through nearly every occasion.
So what a treat it was, to revel in the first gown’s diaphanous layers of pale ivory, and then to giggle at the glitzy way its iridescent beads flashed like shooting stars. When she tried it on, she felt like a fairy princess—until she stepped in front of the mirror in the main room.
Two red bull’s eyes and a patch of thatch jumped out at her.
“My God, you can see right through the—well, you can see everything,” she said with a gulp.
Clive smiled, his gaze wandering below her waist as he smoothed the shoulder seams.
“Perhaps a wax job and some nail polish remover would be the thing before you wore this one. Or not,” he added with a coy shrug. “Bait your hook for whomever you’re trying to catch, my dear.”
Right. That wild, wonderful lover I’m about to meet.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that wearing a slip would ruin the effect.”
Rolling her eyes at the concierge—a man who obviously enjoyed this part of his job—Lola took the second dress into the fitting room. Sleek and smooth, made of deep green satin, it seemed a better choice because it at least covered her uh, assets.
“I chose this one to accent your lovely hair and eyes, of course,” Kingsley crooned. “But don’t let that limit you! A gorgeous girl like yourself can wear a kaleidoscope of colors well! And your figure is so suited to styles most women can’t carry off. You should celebrate that.”
Celebrating herself! Now there was a novel concept!
Yet it impressed Lola anew as she slipped into a gown of eggplant and claret stripes: it left one shoulder bare and set the other off with a pleated sleeve cap that rose boldly into the air like a butterfly wing. Wayyyy too out-there and Parisian for a girl who grew up in Oregon! She only kept it on to humor the kind concierge, yet she was amazed by what she saw when she stepped in front of the triple mirror outside the dressing room.
“I look like someone from a different galaxy or—”
The hisssssss that escaped as Clive exhaled shut her up. And when he met her gaze in the mirror, over her bare shoulder, Lola swore she saw smoke from the fire in those blue eyes.
“Guess I’d better take this one, huh?”
“No one else can even try it on, now that I’ve seen you in it.”
She felt a glow inside, yet habit made her reach for the price tag. Kingsley, however, grabbed it first and deftly tore the paper from its string.
“We’re charging these to the captain’s account,” he murmured. “And since you’re working off debts Mr. Fletcher left you, you might as well have something to show for it. Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, remember.”
“But I couldn’t dream of—”
“Why not?”
Clive kissed her hand, challenging her with the glint in his eye. “If you can’t dream here, on Fantasy Cruise Lines, then where? After all, you’re appearing in the ballroom at Skorpio’s command. If he’s going to play, he’s going to pay.”
Finally! A man who’s not kissing the captain’s ass!
Lola grinned at the concierge, feeling grand and giddy. And very high-maintenance!
“Right you are! I’ll take all three!” she crowed. “Now tell me which gown will wow Captain Scandalous tonight. And I’m betting you have just the right little trinkets to wear with it.”
“Indeed, I do, my dear,” he purred, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “For this evening, I suggest the deep green sheath. I’ll have the others sent to your suite.”
Was this really happening? Lola quickly changed into the elegant dress that made her eyes look large and mysterious and…provocative. Lord, she’d never felt provocative in her life—not this way! The gown fit like a glove that was custom cut for her body. In the back of her mind, her mother was telling her to ask for the proper underthings—a slip, at least—to wear beneath this sleeveless creation that dipped low to show the tops of her unfettered breasts. It also had an open side seam that revealed most of her thigh.
But of course, underwear didn’t exist that would do this dress justice! Why would she want a bra line? Or a slip that would flutter through that daring slit on the side?
And isn’t YOUR slit feeling sleazy and free? Without even a thong to cover it!
Lola chuckled, hearing sex and cigarettes in her inner voice. A killer combination, when the captain took her into his arms to dance tonight!
When she emerged from the changing room, Kingsley awaited her with
