Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(61)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



I’d had the foresight to pack a little Monique Lhuillier tulle cocktail dress in champagne back home but didn’t feel it practical to pack heels so I’d stuffed in an odd pocket of my bag a simple pair of black Fendi ballet flats with a ribbon that wrapped the ankle. I was so grateful I’d done all that but forgot that it took days for tulle to “de-wrinkle” for lack of a better word. I had little under an hour and I was freaking out a little.

Abri had set her sights on me the minute she’d walked in the door and it made me, to say the least, a little uneasy. The last thing I wanted was to look unkempt when being scrutinized so closely. I wasn’t sure her motive but I knew without a doubt that Abri Aberdeen did not trust me. I didn’t think I could blame her, though her interrogation style left a little to be desired, because, well, she was the executive mayor of Cape Town and I do believe she’d set her sights on loftier political positions. I was a potential liability.

I unpacked my dress and hung it in the bathroom, took a steaming hot shower courtesy of their guest quarters and kept the room warm and humid by keeping the door shut while blowing my hair out and curling it with the wand oddly kept in a drawer next to the dryer. It was thoughtful of Abri to keep the instruments available to her guests but also felt like two points were added next to a dash by her name when I’d used them.

By the time my makeup and hair were done, the room had cooled. The wrinkles had disappeared significantly but not entirely. I thought about running the shower again but knew the water hadn’t yet reheated. I’d just started to panic when I heard a knock on my door. I threw on the silk short robe conveniently hanging from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, one more point for Abri, and answered.

Simon.

“Hi,” I said, my brow wrinkled in curiosity. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he told me, “I wanted to say, while I have the opportunity in other words, while my mother’s not around, you’re in.”

“I’m in?”

“Yes, you’re in with us already. The guys took a vote and you’re in.”

“Guys?”

“Well, my dad and I.”

“And I’m in?”

“Yes.” He looked me up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed? We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

The way he was so comfortable with me, I supposed I really was “in,” as he called it.

“I’m in a bit of a bind. The wrinkles in my dress won’t fall out.”

“Not a problem. Check the closet in your room. You should find a hand-held steamer.”

“Dammit! Two more points,” I gritted, my fist slapping an open palm.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Thanks. I’ll be ready.”

I shut the door behind him.

The steamer was where he’d said it would be and it worked beautifully. The dress looked like I’d just picked it up from the store, maybe even better.

“Darn you, Abri Aberdeen, and your thoughtfulness,” I whispered to the steamer.

When I was done, I unplugged the steamer and returned it to its rightful place in the closet. I slipped on my dress and shoes, and spritzed myself with one of Abri’s assorted choices of flowery perfumes. I brought my wrist to my nose and inhaled. Apple, peach and tuberose filled my senses. It smelled beautiful and my lips quirked. I spritzed a little more behind my ears. I owed her big already, what was one more point?

I stood at the full-length mirror a little shocked at my own appearance. I hadn’t taken this much time getting myself ready in months and it was, needless to say, slightly disconcerting. I wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw in the mirror. My reflection looked a little too much like my old self and that made me uneasy.

I looked closer.

There are differences. My skin was tanner, my muscles even more toned, but the biggest difference was in my eyes. Before when I saw myself, they revealed nothing but hollow. They were empty. But now, now, they were full of life, full of understanding. Suddenly, I didn’t mind my own scrutiny. Suddenly, I saw a completely different person standing before me. Suddenly, I reflected love, hope and patience.

A knock on the door once again startled me. I grabbed my tiny pocketbook, checked my lip gloss one last time and swung it open to a breathtaking Ian.

“Jesus, Sophie Price,” he told me at once, raking his eyes from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and back again.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. “I had no idea,” he told me, edging closer.

The toe of his shoes almost met mine and I wanted, no, needed him to swallow me whole. He was incredibly delectable, everything about him. I could feel his breath fan across my face as he examined me, could smell the spicy, clean scent of his soap, could practically count the hairs on his head. I searched his eyes and waited for it, waited for the declaration, but it never came. Say it, I silently begged.

I didn’t have time to be disappointed though because his hands found my bare shoulders instantly. They bit into my skin and pushed me a little away from him so he could soak up another look.

“Sophie Price, you are devastatingly beautiful.”

“Thank you. So are you,” I told him honestly.

He hadn’t heard me though. “I-I’m just-I knew you were beautiful, knew it so very well, but it’s like I just woke up to the idea. There’s something about you now, Soph. You exude something and I can’t quite place my finger on it. You practically glow with it. You devastate me,” he said, clutching at his heart.