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He might have been calling the two of us, but he doesn’t even glance at Dominika. His gaze is locked on mine. I wish I’d thought to brush my hair or something before leaving my room because I’m a horrible mess. In the robe and along with my bare feet, I must look like some sad little orphan.
Before I can answer him, not that I know what to say anyway, Dominika is by my side, her chin raised and her lips tight around what looks to be an utterly fake smile. “Everything’s coming along, Niko,” she says. “Just taking the new girl to the salon to see if we can fix her up a bit.”
She looks me up and down disdainfully, because she can. I so want to do the same back to her. The woman isnofreaking prize. I mean, has she looked in the mirror, with that orange hair and caked-on makeup? She’s repulsive.
Jesus.
Niko continues eyeing me and gets closer, acting like Dominika hasn’t said a word. As if she’s not even there. When he reaches us, he takes a hank of my hair, slowly twirling it in his fingers as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
I consider pulling away from him, even though it won’t do any good or change my circumstances. But I don’t. While I have no power over my situation, I oddly want him to continue. In spite of the fact that I am essentially a prisoner, taken against my will—even if I did sign a damn contract—I am calmed by his touch. I want more.
But that’s not happening, at least not right now.
Dominika grabs me by the upper arm and pulls me away from Niko’s touch. He looks away from me only to scowl at her, but she’s not deterred. Turning her back on him, she drags me down the hall without so much as a word.
And while she yanks me so hard I nearly lose my balance, I do manage to look back over my shoulder, where I find Niko watching me with that half smile. When our eyes meet, he gives me a slight nod, as if to say…
As if to say what?
That everything will be okay?
Yeah, right.
I have no doubt I am imagining his affection. That man cares nothing for my well-being. If he did, he wouldn’t have brought me here and locked me up.
* * *
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Charleigh
To call the room Dominika takes me to a ‘salon’ is being ridiculously generous. It’s big enough for one padded treatment table and a bookcase filled with everything I suppose they need to ‘fix me up.’
I’ve read about ‘spa days’ and ‘spa treatments’ in the fashion magazines I occasionally buy. They seem like something affluent women do all the time, often with their friends.
I can’t imagine such an indulgence, being pampered from head to toe alongside your buddies, like you’re a freaking goddess. I wonder if afterwards, these women float through life for days, feeling important and beautiful and spoiled.
Luci and I have talked about having a spa day someday, after we finish our courses and are working women with good jobs. It’s not something we’d do all the time. Really, we just want to try it once. For a treat.
And here I am, having my first spa experience. Only not at a spa, not with my friend, and not to be pampered.
Dominika overwhelms the small room with her presence. “Give her a trim, fix those eyebrows, wax that pussy, and give her a mani-pedi,” she barks at a small woman in a white coat.
“Will do, Miss Dominika,” she says with an obedient nod.
“Hello,” the woman says to me when Dominika pulls the door shut behind her. While we’re in close quarters and need to keep shuffling out of each other’s way, I can already breathe better. “Let’s get the hard part out of the way.” She slides the robe from my shoulders and hangs it on the door.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to being naked in front of strangers.
“Lay on your back here on the table,” she says after pulling some crinkly white paper down to protect it. “Pull your knees up and put the bottom of your feet together. Like a frog.”
Gross.
I lay on the table and, in spite of the woman’s instructions, clamp my knees together tightly while she stirs something in a little electric pot.
When she faces me, she rolls her eyes. “Are you going to make this more difficult than it has to be? C’mon. Spread ‘em.”
I place the soles of my feet together, and let my knees drops to the sides of the table exposing myself in a way I never have for anyone other than my doctor.
