off to an elevator, asking questions about her taste in music and books and films that sounded innocuous but which Elena was certain had meaning. The stylist was trying to figure her out.
Before they’d reached the floor they were heading to, she could hold it back no longer. ‘Have you dressed many of Gabriele’s lady friends?’
‘He brought his mother here at Christmas.’ Liana used such a sympathetic tone that a ripple of unease ran through her, making Elena wonder what it was about Gabriele’s mother that elicited such a tone.
When they reached the intended floor, Liana knew exactly where she wanted to take her.
Following in her wake, she passed two women, one of whom was holding a small baby.
She turned back for a second look, her heart thundering.
She was going to have one. She was going to have a baby.
The one thing she had never allowed herself to dream of having.
But to get one she would have to have sex with Gabriele.
God help her.
And God help her that a thrill of heat pooled in her abdomen every time she imagined it.
Liana whisked her into a private dressing room and brought armfuls of clothes in a steady stream, from elegant business outfits to cocktail dresses, to everything in between.
Although reluctant to try them on, feeling that to do so would in itself be a victory for Gabriele, to her surprise Elena soon found she was enjoying herself. Even more surprisingly, the clothes Liana selected were items she would have chosen for herself if she’d ever given it more than a few seconds’ thought. Nothing too girly, which she would have rejected on the spot, yet definitely feminine.
The only time she truly wanted to put her foot down was when Liana measured her bra size and brought in sexy little items of lingerie. She could hardly say, ‘No thank you, it would be a waste as I couldn’t care less what Gabriele thinks of my underwear,’ because that hardly fitted the image of a woman newly in love. Elena did manage to dissuade the stylist from checking the fit of them for herself, which she considered to be a personal victory.
Left alone with a pile of bras, she gazed at her reflection in the three full-length mirrors. And gazed again.
She looked different. And all she’d done was try on some clothes.
Peering closer, she studied her face, certain something had changed.
Her skin appeared to glow. Her eyes seemed brighter, the green more vivid. Her lips looked fuller.
It had to be the lighting, she told herself, slipping one of the bras on. The owners must have done it to enhance their customers’ reflections.
But even her breasts looked fuller, the lacy bra pushing them up and giving her an actual cleavage. Giving her shape.
She couldn’t help her mind from flitting, as it had done seemingly every minute since they’d made their agreement, to being in bed with Gabriele.
The thought terrified her.
It should repulse her too. After everything he was doing, everything he was demanding, the thought of sharing a bed with him should have her crammed full of revulsion.
The butterflies in her belly shouldn’t feel like the flutters of excitement.
An image drifted into her mind of Gabriele peeling the bra from her body...
She shouldn’t have these thoughts. Not of him.
When she gave him her body it would be with the minimum of interaction on her part. She would do what she had to do and nothing more. She would not enjoy it.
Her phone went off, a distraction she welcomed until she clicked on the link Gabriele had emailed to her.
A picture of them outside Ramones had been published online. Elena had been dubbed ‘The Convicted Italian Stallion’s Mystery Date’.
The first seeds of them as a couple had been planted.
Her identity would be revealed sooner rather than later. Her profile in America was non-existent but all it would take was one Italian to read the article and the world would know who she was.
She’d have to phone her dad as soon as they got back to Gabriele’s apartment, a thought that made her already tender stomach lurch some more.
There was no time to worry about it though, as it was time for her makeover. Liana gently persuaded her to change into one of her new outfits rather than slip back into her boyish shorts and T-shirt.
In the beauty department she was taken into a private room. There, a flamboyant man named Adrian, who had the most perfectly plucked eyebrows, sat her onto a high stool and studied her face.
‘Your eyes!’ he exclaimed. ‘They are to die for. And your lips...are they natural?’
At her puzzled expression he said, ‘No fillers?’
‘No.’
‘No work at all?’
‘No.’
He sighed. ‘A natural beauty. Your face is a blank canvas for me to enhance. But first...’ He lifted the lank strands of her hair. ‘First we do something to this.’
For the next hour her hair was washed, snipped and dried by yet another stylist, all the while Adrian and Liana chatted to her and plied her with coffee. They refused to let her see the end result, Adrian explaining that they ‘wanted her to see the whole effect in one go’.
As he got to work on her face, he gently gave details of what he was doing so she could replicate it for herself.
When he was done, he took her hand and helped her down, then led her to a floor-length mirror so she could see the final results.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, smiling widely.
As she gazed at her reflection, a lump formed in her throat.
It was her but...not.
Her hair had never looked so voluminous. The severe fringe she chopped herself when it got too long had been feathered. Layers had been cut into the length, which still fell across her shoulders, but instead of just hanging there now became a frame for a face that belonged to her but one she had never seen before.
Far from making her look like a clown as she had feared, Adrian’s makeover was surprisingly understated.
Her eyes, darkened around the rims, gleamed, the black mascara making them appear rounder. Her cheeks had a subtle hint of blush on them, defining her bone structure. Peach lipstick had been applied that made her naturally full lips look even plumper.
It was hard to believe...
‘Is that really me?’ she whispered, her eyes filling. She’d never imagined she could look so feminine. She’d never imagined she could feel so feminine. Not her, the little tomboy.
Adrian
