And she still couldn’t believe he’d kissed her. It felt like a dream.
Matteo appeared in the doorway and Edie flushed to be caught ogling.
‘Mr Rivas has sent something to your room for you, Edie.’
‘Thank you, Matteo.’
Edie finished her quick check just as the catering staff started to appear for their own preparations.
When she went into her room she saw two boxes sitting on the end of her bed. They were glossy and black. She approached them warily, opening the bigger one first.
It was a dress—satin and teal-green. When she lifted it out of the tissue paper a little sigh of appreciation escaped her mouth. It was a cocktail wrap-dress. Casual, but sexy. It fell to just below the knee and had a peek-a-boo slit in the back panel.
It was so beautiful. It almost slid out of her hands to the floor it was so slinky. Teal was a colour she’d never have had the nerve to wear.
When she looked in the other box she found nude-coloured strappy high-heeled sandals.
And then she noticed the envelope. She pulled out a thick piece of paper and saw the scrawled writing.
I’d like you to accept my invitation to the drinks party this evening, Edie.
SR
Edie looked at the note for a long time, as if his handwriting might give her a clue as to what he was up to.
Was this part of a strategy? Seduce her with beautiful clothes that made her sigh and fulfilled her fantasies before telling her he wanted her again? Or kissing her again?
Edie’s heart-rate picked up just at the thought. If he kissed her she wouldn’t stand a chance. Her brave parting words that it wouldn’t happen again would be proved as nothing more than hot air.
Why are you resisting this? asked a voice.
Because, she answered herself, she’d developed a strong sense of self-preservation since she’d faced life or death, and everything in her told her that Sebastio Rivas would destroy her if she let him get too close.
But it would be worth it, whispered a wicked voice.
Would it, though? Sebastio had no idea how inexperienced she was, and she wasn’t about to expose herself any more than she already had. He was hardened, worldly and unmistakably cynical, and she knew enough about his life now to see why.
A man like him wouldn’t be gentle or considerate. He didn’t really care about Edie. He would take what he wanted and leave her to pick up the pieces.
And yet she couldn’t stop an awful feeling of yearning. To go to the party...pretend for a moment that she was like those people. Feel Sebastio’s eyes on her...imagine she was the kind of woman who could step up to him and match him.
For a heady moment she allowed herself to imagine a scenario in which she boldly went up to Sebastio and told him she wanted him. In which she allowed him to take her innocence.
Why didn’t she take what he was offering? Wouldn’t it help her move on with her life?
No, Edie told herself, pushing away the illicit daydream. She wasn’t ready to bare herself to him and risk his ridicule when he discovered how innocent she was. How truly gauche.
And yet, despite her best intentions, Edie couldn’t put the dress down. She went over to the mirror in the dressing room and held it up in front of her body. The teal made her eyes and hair pop dramatically. She could already imagine how it would feel, sliding over her body, and her skin prickled with anticipation.
She cursed Sebastio. But then how could he know how tempting something like this was for someone like her, who had experienced what she had? He must have given hundreds of dresses to hundreds of women.
A sense of fatality washed over her. She knew she didn’t have the strength to resist.
Without thinking too deeply about her motives, Edie had a shower and afterwards put on her underwear and tried on the dress. It fit her like a second skin, emphasising curves she hadn’t even known she had.
The vee at the front of the dress, where it wrapped around her, dipped down far enough to show more pale skin than Edie had ever shown before.
She pulled the material back to look at the familiar scar just under her right collarbone. It was where the chemo had been administered during her lengthy treatment. It had faded into a fairly innocuous red line, belying the pain and trauma it represented.