“Not your style?” he asked, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. She had revealed multiple facets in their short time together, but this was the first he was seeing the spoiled daughter.
But she was not in the mood to be more revealing, or had recalled her manners, it seemed, because she just flared her nostrils and looked around, for a place to change he presumed.
Indicating the door that led to his closet, he held both his smile and comment. Whatever she didn’t like about the dress, he wouldn’t press. His seduction efforts stopped at comforting a woman over her clothing.
Clothes were a means to an end, not meant for emotional investment.
And, like everything he’d seen her in, when she returned draped in the clean hanging of the dress, she was beautiful.
His assistant had included a pair of strappy leather sandals, as he’d instructed. She couldn’t arrive barefoot.
As he’d anticipated, the sandals were forgiving for his guess on size. Unlike the dress she’d worn upon their meeting, this was made of breezy cotton—local, if he was not mistaken—and would allow her far greater freedom of movement. She should be relieved.
She did not look relieved.
As lovely as she was, Grecian and elegant, he was reminded of his younger sister, Nya, on the occasions their mother had forced her to dress up.
He almost laughed, but held back, and instead offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
For a moment, he wondered if she would take it, but she did not disappoint, shrugging away whatever displeasure she had with her attire to rest her arm on his. As usual, there was a jolt on contact.
He led her onshore and into the sleek black car that waited for them.
They rode in a comfortable quiet and he realized it was the first truly settled stretch of time they’d had since their meeting. In fact, when he thought back, it was the first settled stretch of time he could remember in years. It seemed like peace might finally be his in less than seven days. What would that feel like? He was ready to find out.
They pulled up the hill and into the curved stone driveway at Caline’s entrance. She marveled as they exited the car, but he did not slow for a tour—they would have time for that tomorrow. Tonight was about rest, relaxation and recuperation, completely free of pressure. He wanted her supple and easy and off her guard before he set to work.
After they’d shared a kiss that had her redefining the word, Hel had expected Drake to launch a full-blown-seduction onslaught, assuming he would waste no time, or his newfound advantage, in his effort to budge her from her vow. Because an advantage was certainly what he’d proved he had with that kiss—he had an advantage strong enough to rip her from the shore and cast her out to sea. So she would need to remain on her guard, to take seriously the threat he posed to her defenses, as mesmerizing as he was.
She had mentally prepared for it throughout the nerve-racking ride to the manor—nerve-racking not because the drive was treacherous or road conditions dangerous, but because the effect he had on her was amplified by being in a dark, comfortable confined space together. She would need to avoid kissing, and touching, at all costs.
If this was attraction, it was a wonder anyone got anything done. The relentless drive of her mind to focus on the object of her interest certainly explained some of her cousin’s more asinine behavior when it came to his wife.
But she sensed none of that from Drake.
In fact, he was behaving as if the matter had gone from his mind entirely.
He had not tried to impress her with his manor, though the glimpses she’d caught had impressed her nonetheless as he’d all but marched her through the grand manse to a small, secluded balcony, the archway leading into it picturesquely framed by blooming flowering vines and soft twilight. Centered in the picture, as if intended for a still life or a movie scene, was a lovely round table, set for two with wineglasses, bread, cheese, charcuterie and fruit. Her stomach growled.
Drake laughed, “I had a feeling you would be hungry. We’ll eat. After that, I’ve kept our evening simple—massages, followed by rest. Tough as you are, you’ve had a lot to process today.” His smile was warm, friendly, with no trace of teasing fire.
The juxtaposition from his demeanor earlier—flirtatious, wild—was enough to put her off balance. Hot and cold, the unfamiliar territory was disorienting to say the least.
She was no more grounded after dinner. Yes, they’d shared a wonderful meal, enjoying surprisingly easy conversation, and a camaraderie she hadn’t experienced since her academy days. But he hadn’t directed so much as a flirtatious glance in her direction since they’d arrived in Calla.
True to his word, massages followed dinner, but he surprised her with no setup attempt, with each of them receiving their massages in serenely appointed private spa rooms.
And afterward, rather than pouncing when her mind was mush and her muscles relaxed postmassage, she was greeted by a friendly staff person who showed her to a peaceful room that looked out over the harbor. And she was its only occupant.
The next morning, the same kind staff member led her to breakfast, this time in another lovely dining area, with an enclosed sun porch that had views into the river canyon.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
For a moment, she simply took him in. He looked like he had rested, and well. His smile was as bright and sunny as the morning, his clothing fresh, his skin as alluring and velvet smooth in the daylight as it had been through the afternoon and evening before.
His eyes danced, observing her in the simple dress she’d found laid out for her this morning. Two days in a row in dresses and she was contemplating going nude. If he didn’t have such an unpredictable effect on her and his wager didn’t sit between them, she just might have.
This dress was a spaghetti-strapped maxi in cornflower-blue, shapeless but nicely draping...if one went for that kind of thing. Hel did not, and her face must have said so. She wore the sandals she had been given the evening before and knew objectively that the ensemble was lovely, the picture of a young woman on holiday. Still, it remained, indisputably, a dress.