Blasphemous (Torn #3)(16)
There’s truth for you, Emma. The way he said it made me more depressed, if it were even possible to go deeper than I already was. We were both sad, rejected people. “You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s no point in rehashing everything over someone that didn’t hold me in the same regard. A man has to move on, meet women, and have sex until you can’t remember her face anymore.”
I was about to say something when he excused himself to pick up the jet’s ringing phone.
Have sex with another man other than Bass? The thought made me dizzy. Carter, who I still cared about, couldn’t even get a kiss from me—that hazy kiss didn’t count. How the heck did I even begin rebooting myself to be single again?
Bass was single. I’m sure that man didn’t have any qualms moving on. The last time we had sex, I think it was his way of saying goodbye to me, but I took it more of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sex. I sure as hell knew that his weekend was filled with tons of whamming and bamming, too.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was the truth. If he could easily put me behind him, then shouldn’t I at least try to see if I could do it, too?
E
Lander was a crazy, eccentric, melodramatic, beautiful, Nazi of a gay man that didn’t seem too keen or too happy about what any of his assistants did to beautify me.
After being thoroughly washed with rose water, having masks and peels, being pricked and plucked, scrubbed down, waxed and polished with Dead Sea salt, honey, milk and rubbed with oranges, I was sure the only hair I had left were my eyebrows and the hair on my head.
Imagine my shock when I came out with my robe and Lander tsked me, hastily untied the robe and felt the texture on my back. “Non!” he barked out, monster green eyes coming out of their sockets, at the unflinching, well-poised, brunette assistant.
I stood there, thinking, What the f*uk did I get myself into this time? before I was ushered back inside the bedroom until my back was silky smooth.
Piled up hair? Non.
Coral nail varnish? Non!
Dark make-up? Non, non, non!
All I could hear was different crescendos of non.
He then spit out a sporadic string of French that left me so utterly, f*uking clueless about what the heck was going on.
Everything had to be back to square one. Cleansed, creamed, primed and finished. By the third try, I made a pact to myself that if he was going to reject it again, I was walking out of that door.
The sigh of relief when I didn’t hear the word non was music to my irritated ears.
“Ooh la la! You look magnifique, oui?” Lander appeared behind me. The slight twitch of his lip was the only indication that I could think of, that showed he was pleased.
He kissed both of my cheeks and bid me goodnight. With a sharp snap of his fingers, the three assistants followed him out and left me staring at the closed door.
I was still in a Lander daze, trying to figure him out, when a soft knock on my door and a dashing Dimitris appeared. He eyed me with approval, grinning. “Lander never disappoints just as my mother promised.”
Really? Lander terrified me hardcore. “If you take me back to that man again, I will murder you in your sleep.”
He laughed. “Lander comes highly recommended. I thought you needed his direct approach kind of therapy.”
Hah. The whole time I was with the green-eyed monster, Bass didn’t even pop anywhere inside my head because I was too freaked out with Lander. “Well, I guess, it worked,” I admitted, smiling before I started laughing like a loony with him.
“Look at yourself, Emma. Can you see any traces of the woman who was crying out in pain with ice cream to soothe it six hours ago?”
My hair was straightened out with a soft curve in the end. The right front side had the whole nineteen-twenty's wave. The black, silk-topped, mini frock paired with nude, four-inch, strappy stilettos made my legs look like they could go on forever. The winged, black liner on my lids and the matte, scarlet red lips made me look mysterious. The hours I spent on the beach paid off with a great tan, but the maddening way Lander had my skin polished gave me a luminous glow that I had never had before. “No.” I looked really good. Classy. Chic. Elegant. Composed and in my element.
“They say beauty is only skin deep, but what they don’t understand is that beautifying helps heal and conceal scars. By making yourself beautiful, you start feeling beautiful. After all, true beauty comes from within. This is my mother’s way of beauty therapy and I’m happy that it worked for you, too. For years, I thought she was full of it each time she made an excuse for this said therapy, but I guess mothers know best, ne?”
“Your mother sounds like my kind of woman. I bet she’s amazing!” Smiling as I glanced at him.
“She is. My mother has a passionate nature. My father thought it too passionate at times. She has a flare for dramatics, but they work great together.” He looked thoughtful a moment, as if picturing his parents in his mind. By the way he smiled it was obvious that his parents were happy together.
“I know this might sound stupid and a few hours delayed since we’re already here, but I’ve been wondering… why are we in Paris?” I was too caught up in my own head that I hadn’t asked questions when he decided to bring me to another country.
I was that distracted with Bass.
“We’re having a celebratory party for one of my good friends. Are you familiar with car racing? Formula One?”