Entice Me at Twilight
Page 31

"Your lips are deliciously swollen again. And there's a bit of whisker burn on your cheeks."
That brought her back to reality. "Very naughty, advertising to everyone that we're ..."
"An intimate couple, yes. It's shocking, I understand." He nuzzled her neck and whispered, "That reaction, there on your face ... so perfect and genuine."
As if on cue, the camera clicked several times. Simon added more fuel to the fire by grazing the side of her breast beneath the sheet. No one could see it, but she gasped into his kiss, mesmerized by his touch. A flush crept up her body to her face.
"Ah, you look gorgeous and rosy," he whispered for her alone.
Felicia gulped in a deep breath, trying to keep her wits about her. "Where will these pictures be displayed?"
"Out of This Realm's website for forty-eight hours. They'll create a huge buzz, and everyone will be trying to verify their authenticity. In two days, after we've admitted our relationship, Holly and the paper will make a handsome fortune by selling them to everyone. We'll have another huge crowd around us, and you'll be safe a bit longer."
True, and safety was more important than any embarrassment she might feel or any desire she might have to stake her claim on him. But ... "Everyone will think I'm your
... mistress."
Immediately, he shook his head. "Soon, everyone will know differently. I have a plan."
"Announcing our engagement will crush Mason."
Simon's smile fell. "I know. I don't wish to hurt him, but I cannot risk you."
A few minutes later, Holly and the lighting guy left. Caden lingered. "I've spoken to Bram. The Doomsday Brethren will be shadowing you two as closely as we dare while you're in London."
"You have first watch?"
"Ronan and I, yes. As soon as I get these pictures out."
"Any news on Tynan? Have we heard anything from Shock?"
Regret weighed down the other wizard's blue gaze. "Nothing."
Worry slithered through her belly. Tynan had been with Mathias for nearly twenty-four hours. That couldn't be good news.
"Keep me posted," Simon asked. "Make sure these pictures look as if you spied on us without our knowledge and are suitable for most audiences. Evocative, not indecent. Affectionate, not lewd."
The wizards shook hands as Caden left. She was alone with Simon again.
"About the photos ..." Her voice shook. "I don't want to be a doubting Thomas, and you've done so much--"
"Please, trust me. I know that's hard for you. Others have let you down. Have I?"
What could she say? So far, he'd kept her alive--and surprisingly happier than she'd been in months, years ... maybe ever. Perhaps she should trust him. What were her alternatives?
"No. It's just ... this isn't easy for me."
His expression softened. "You're accustomed to calling the shots. Mason always let you. Your parents left you to your own devices. Only Deirdre ever dragged you out of your comfort zone. You didn't like it, but I'm betting you realized you needed it. And her."
Surprise washed over Felicia. Simon was right. How had he figured that out so quickly?
She bit her lip to suppress tears. "Stop prying."
He caressed a gentle hand down the fall of her tangled hair. "Sunshine, I'm not trying to pry. I'm trying to help."
Fear followed as she realized that with every moment, he grew closer and closer to finding a permanent place in her heart. "If you want to help, give me time and space."
He shook his head. "Too dangerous. Besides, all you'll do with time and space is refortify your defenses. I'm sure Mason has finally figured that out. What you need is to see us and the love you're hiding from. You need to take a leap of faith and believe."
God, he confronted her over and over. Pushing, shoving, being so damn right. In her head, she knew he would do anything to keep her safe. She knew every word he'd said about mating was true. He couldn't leave her, couldn't make love to anyone else, couldn't fall out of love. She knew it. She also suspected she was this close to falling in love with him ... yet didn't know how to make her heart trust.
She whispered, "It sounds too good to be true. I keep waiting for the catch."
"The only catch is that I need your love, too."
Another knock sounded on the door, and he dropped a kiss on her nose. "I also love punctuality, but I should have pushed this appointment later. Coming ..."
Appointment?
He rose, striding naked across the dusk-shadowed room. She blinked, her gaze glued to his incredible backside. She'd known the man was beyond beautiful, but every sculpted inch of him wowed her. Wide, yet elegant shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and hips. Hard buttocks and thighs, bulging calves ... mmm. She'd never been one to ogle a man, but it was impossible not to stare at Simon.
He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged wearing one of the hotel's thick robes. He tossed the other at her. "You'll want to shower now. When you come out, I'll have a snack waiting. Then there's work to be done."
Before she could ask what, his footsteps across the hardwood floors faded, finally 149
reaching the door. Someone entered; from the sounds, a husky-voiced woman and a man with heavy footsteps. Soon both headed her way.
Felicia tore out of the bed and dove into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her in relief, then turned the faucet. The woman who greeted her in the mirror was a stranger.
Sensual. Tousled hair, swollen mouth. Red cheeks. Utterly sated. The satisfaction on her rosy, relaxed face was unmistakable.
And all of England would see it once those pictures went public.
She closed her eyes, happiness warring with embarrassment. She wanted to stay safe, but feared revealing herself to everyone. Revealing herself to Simon. In a few days, he'd seen through her, all the way to her soul.
That terrified the hell out of her.
Voices on the other side of the door brought her out of her stupor, and she ran for the shower. The hot spray revived her as she tried to put the past few days in perspective.
Impossible, really. From Mason's bombshell to Simon's abduction, the revelation of magickind, Mathias's pursuit ... all of that was staggering, but nothing she couldn't handle. However, her mating to Simon, his possessiveness, his insistence on having her love bowled her over. She hadn't wanted to give her heart to anyone, ever. Slowly but surely, he was prying it from her cold chest and filling the dark space with affection, caring, warmth.
As she rinsed her hair, a pang tore through her belly. How did she trust the idea of him always being in love with her, happily forever? And if she didn't figure out how to stop her feelings for Simon from growing, his abandonment would hurt more than anyone's ever had.
A part of her wanted to trust him, hungered to give him every part of herself the way he seemed to share all of himself with her. But even if she did, would that be enough? Was she too damaged to give him what he needed and deserved? Would he realize that something in her was perpetually broken and elect to break their bond?
Finally clean and having no other means of stalling, Felicia dragged on her robe and cracked the bathroom door. Just outside, a tray with fruits, soup, and a hot sandwich sat on ornate china, along with water and tea in a matching cup and saucer. An older scrap of a woman dressed in head-to-toe black paced in front of the windows, her salt-and-pepper hair perfectly in place. She held a brush in one hand. The other was clenched in a fist.
Biting her lip, Felicia stared at the woman. Who was she? Her presence might have been troublesome, except that nothing sexual existed between her and Simon.
"Thank you for your patience, Amelia," he drawled.
Slowly, Felicia emerged from the bathroom, clasping the lapels of the robe together. Her gaze connected with Simon's. Something wild and intense pinged between them, ricocheting through her body like a bullet, doing maximum damage. He sent her a smile, like a lover who knew her secrets. She flushed and looked away.
"Eat, Sunshine. It'll be a long few hours. After your meal, you can meet Amelia."
Cautiously digging into her food, Felicia watched as Amelia cut a glare at Simon.
The older woman sniffed in Felicia's direction. "The pictures of her in the tabloids over the past few days show that she has long hair. That takes time."
So Amelia had come ... to do her hair?
The woman turned back to Simon. "You're expected elsewhere soon, yes?"
Simon lifted one shoulder. "If we're fashionably late ..."
Amelia rolled her eyes indulgently. "How like you to assume the world will wait on you."
"I hardly care if they do. But they'll wait for Felicia, I have no doubt."
Amelia wielded an arched brow. "Is that your arrogance talking, or are you finally in love?"
Felicia paused mid-sandwich, but Simon merely smiled. More nervous than hungry, she pushed her meal aside, rose, and faced Amelia. "I'm Felicia Safford."
The older woman's dark gaze scanned her from the top of the towel covering her head to her bare toes, then walked a slow circle around her. After a long, measuring stare, she looked sharply at Simon.
"I'll need three hours and at least one assistant if you want her presentable."
"Indeed?" He looked mildly amused.
Felicia frowned. "Who are you exactly? And what's the matter with me?"
"Amelia Lawine."
She nearly swallowed her tongue. Amelia was the hairdresser and image consultant to the rich and famous. Everyone who was anyone wanted Amelia's advice.
But she was always busy and notoriously selective. And she made last-minute house calls for Simon?
"I see you've heard of me." Amelia dragged the towel from Felicia's hair and filtered the wet strands through her fingers. "Not bad. Seems in good shape. The length is a bit long."
"I like it." Simon's voice was suddenly steel.
Amelia shot an arch stare at him, then shrugged. "I'll make it work. Her forehead is a bit oily, her cheeks dry. She needs a thorough shaping of her brows." The little woman picked up one of Felicia's hands, then made a sound of disgust. "Have you been filing your nails with a chainsaw?"
"I had them done three days ago," Felicia protested.
"By an amateur." Amelia let her hand drop and continued her visual path downward. "You need a good moisturizer for your skin all over, and that pedicure predates the Jurassic period."
Simon leveled a reproaching stare at her. "Amelia, nice to know I can always count on you to be polite."
The little woman snorted. "I'm honest. And you could use a haircut yourself."
"I'd never let anyone else touch my hair."
"As well you shouldn't. But you I'll deal with later." She turned snapping dark eyes back on Felicia. "You, come with me. By tonight, I'll make you look like the most stunning creature any man ever beheld."
"I-I really don't--"
"In my opinion"--Simon crossed the room and took her hand in his--"she already is."
Amelia turned a sharp stare his way. "Keep this up, and you're going to force me to gossip shamelessly about you."
He laughed. "As if I could stop you."
The fifty-something woman smiled ruefully and took Felicia by the hand. After 151
dragging her back into the bathroom, Amelia attacked her hair with a comb and scissors.
Moments later, another woman crowded in, giving Felicia a pedicure under Amelia's exacting direction. After buffing her heels and nipping her cuticles within an inch of their life, the little bird of a woman at her feet started in on her fingernails. All the while Amelia kept digging items out of her bag of tricks. Goop, then different goop, all applied to her hair, along with lots of tsking and a curse or two.
A long two hours later, Felicia shifted restlessly at the vanity and shouted over the blow-dryer. "Nearly done?"
Amelia snorted. "We haven't even started makeup."
Splendid. What the devil was Simon doing while Amelia and her friend were playing Frankenstein?
She heard people come in and out. A hotel employee cleared away the dishes; Simon's valet appeared with his clothing. Simon and a third man Felicia couldn't identify discussed something in hushed tones. The man stayed nearly an hour. What the devil was that about?
"Your attention is wandering," Amelia chided.
"I'm not accustomed to this much grooming." The woman plucked at her eyebrows, and Felicia flinched. "Ouch!"
"It shows."
What seemed like forever later, Amelia finally brushed a final coat of lipstick across her mouth and stepped back to survey her results. She gave Felicia a pleased smile. "Beautiful. You'll turn every head tonight. I'd say that Hurstgrove will become lovesick, but I daresay he already is. Look."
On wobbly legs, Felicia stood and stared at herself in the mirror, blinking furiously. She almost didn't recognize herself. Her naturally wavy hair had been fluffed into shiny, artful curls that accentuated her natural highlights. Her eyes, rimmed in soft brown, had never looked more blue or exotic, while her cheekbones had definition. The rest of her face glowed. Amelia had painted her lips a vibrant coral, and they looked nothing short of pouty.