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 the perfect accessories.
“Your magic slippers,” he said, handing her a pair that were little more than clear straps with heels like icicles. “Fuck-me shoes at their finest, don’t you agree?”
Lola’s jaw dropped. Had this proper Brit really said that?
Yet the grin twitching at his lips made her giggle. And when Kingsley deftly fastened a strand of black pearls around her neck, she didn’t have to ask if they were real. Not to mention terribly pricey.
“How can I ever repay—”
“Ah-ah!” He shushed her with a gentle finger, his face alight with sensual pleasure. “Wear it all and be wonderful, dear Lola. Wear it, and believe.”
She returned his gaze, feeling like the princess in a fairy tale—thinking miracles just might happen, and she could indeed win some private time with Captain Scandalous. Maybe upstairs in that Aphrodisia Suite.
Was that why he’d put her there in the first place?
The phone rang and Kingsley went behind the counter to answer it. As Lola turned in front of the mirror, it struck her as odd that the concierge on a ship this size would be managing such a boutique. Surely he’d have full-time duties dealing with passengers, since a well-versed saleslady could’ve assisted her with these gowns.
Or perhaps Clive Kingsley had taken her on as his personal mission. An intriguing thought, as she sneaked a peek at his face in her mirror. Brits had always fascinated her with their wry humor and impeccable etiquette and—
He held her gaze in the glass with sexy blue eyes that then wandered along her profile.
Lola melted. He did have intentions, and they went beyond seeing that Skorpio Skandalis treated her like a queen rather than a captive! Perhaps Clive intended to challenge the captain for the pleasure of her company!
“I see, sir…yes, of course, captain. I’m sure she’ll understand,” he spoke stiffly into the phone.
But she bloody well won’t like it, was what he didn’t say.
Lola frosted over. “I suppose he’s come up with some excuse—”
“Actually, our captain has been called away to an emergency. So he sends his regrets—and me,” came a voice from the doorway.
In strolled Aric, looking young and wonderful in a close-cut tux of navy blue with a cravat and cummerbund of bright lime and silver stripes. On anyone else such a combination would look outrageous, yet Lola couldn’t help gaping at him. His hair hung in loose, gleaming curls that made her fingers itch to get lost in them.
He offered her an elbow. “I guess you’re stuck with me, Priestess. Shall we dance?”
8
All right, so it really wasn’t such a sacrifice, walking into the grand ballroom with the stud muffin who’d given her this miracle make-over. Aric eased her out of the doorway to pause for a moment—either so he could read the room, or to give her a chance to make a grand entrance. Lola wasn’t pleased that