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“Let’s see what they picked for me.” Rhianne padded over to the bag and unzipped it to find a floor-length, strapless sequined red dress. She held it up to show Eric. “Are you kidding me? How am I going to blend in wearing this?”
Eric pulled her into an embrace. “Sorry, but you’re too beautiful toeverblend in. No matter what you wear, every eye is going to be on you.”
He nuzzled into her neck and for a moment she contemplated dragging him back to bed. But they couldn’t afford to be late.
After a quick shower, she slipped the dress on, unsurprised to find that it fit perfectly. Surely that had been Arturo’s intention—to show them how closely they were being watched.
As she swiveled to examine the way her body looked in the form-fitting gown she realized another advantage Arturo had given himself with this choice. If she’d been planning to wear a hidden weapon with this dress, she’d have a hell of a time finding somewhere to stash it that wouldn’t leave a noticeable bulge in the fabric. Just another way he was stacking the deck in his favor and making it clear that he held all the cards.
Slipping on the shoes that had been provided—also a perfect fit—Rhianne came out.
“What— Whoa. No, wow.” Eric stopped in his tracks and stared, running his gaze over her from head to toe.
“You look beautiful.” Eric cleared his throat.
“Wonder if we get to keep the clothes?” Rhianne mused, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “And you clean up good too.”
He most definitely did. His legs looked strong and muscular in the tailored pants, and his broad shoulders were shown off by the dress shirt—she could only imagine how the tuxedo jacket would enhance them. “Need me to do the tie?” she offered.
“Honey, we’ll let the stylist do that!” Eric joked.
The stylist in question arrived a few minutes later, right on time.
"You first,” the petite, dark haired woman said, pointing at Eric. She got to work on his hair, taming it into the slicked-back style of rich men everywhere. Once finished, she stepped back to appraise him. “There. Clean. Elegant, not that crazy curly mop you had.”
Rhianne hid a smile. She liked his curls.
The woman wordlessly pointed at her then gestured to a chair by the light. “Sit.”
Rhianne resisted the urge to fidget as the stylist worked on her hair and make-up. How much did the stylist know? Did she not care what went on in the resort, or was she kept in the dark?
Rhianne was so caught up with thoughts of her sister and the other women she’d seen getting off the bus that she hardly realized that the stylist had put the finishing touches on her make-up.
“What? You don’t like it?” the woman demanded. “I can fix anything.”
Rhianne finally looked into the mirror and barely recognized herself as the cool, flawless blonde gazing back at her. She studied the coronet of tiny braids circling her head, the severity softened by a few loose tendrils around her face. She usually wore her hair pulled back, but this updo was another level from anything she’d ever managed for herself. And as much as she hated to admit it, the dress had been a great choice for her. If she’d seen it on the rack, she probably wouldn’t have picked it up. It was too flashy, too tight, but damn it if it didn’t work on her.
“No, no, I do like it,” Rhianne stuttered, feeling guilty about playing dress-up when her sister was still in jeopardy.
“She usually doesn’t wear red,” Eric said, striding closer to her. “I didn’t know you could look even more beautiful,” Eric said, sincerity in every word and in every line of his body. He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
“Guess we’d better.” Rhianne laced her arm through his and held on to it with her other hand too. “I’ll be needing help to walk in these heels.” Was that part of Arturo’s calculation as well? Forcing her into sky-high heels that would make it difficult for her to move quickly if the situation called for it? Of course, that might be paranoia speaking. She could be giving him too much credit, assuming that everything he did had a hidden, sinister motive, but he was the stone-cold bastard who was planning to sell her baby sister into slavery. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was underestimate him.
She paused, then realized she’d blown right past what Eric had said. “And thanks for the compliment.”
Another member of staff waited to escort them to wherever this dinner was being held. They collected another two couples on the way, and exclamations over one another’s clothes and accessories rang out.
“You don’t have any jewelry on with that?” asked a woman.
Rhianne had on a simple diamante bangle, but doubted that counted as “jewelry” to this set.
“She doesn’t need any,” Eric said, his gaze heating her where it landed.
“The dress speaks for itself,” Rhianne added, which was nothing more than the truth. Even she recognized the designer label.
“Youspeak for yourself,” Eric murmured in her ear, making her shiver, and distracting her when she’d meant to take in every detail of the building they were being shown into—the massive mansion at the very center of the compound.
And there was a lot to take in, in the grand hall with its columns, statues, and wide staircase. A string quartet played in front of open French windows that showed a glimpse of a conservatory beyond.
