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He bent, his mouth close to my ear. “When it makes you blush so prettily, yes. And you’re welcome for the blood.” He smirked and moved away, grabbing a towel and finally covering himself.
I put my hands on my hips, blowing out a breath. Was this sexual frustration I was feeling, or just annoyance that he was being so cocky in flaunting his nakedness in front of me? “Well, did you find something for us to wear to the ball?”
“Yes,” he answered, securing the towel around his waist. “Follow me.”
He left the bathroom and I followed him down a curved hallway and into a walk-in wardrobe. A couple must’ve lived here because one side was men’s clothing and the other side was women’s. As with everything else, the styles were unusual to me. I searched through the gowns, trying to find one that might be a decent fit.
“Blue is your colour,” Vas’ voice came from close behind me, his breath on my shoulder. I turned and found him holding out a long, deep blue dress. It was sleeveless with a plunging neckline. I didn’t normally wear such revealing outfits, but if we were trying to blend in with the other guests at the ball then I knew I had to look the part.
“Turn around while I try it on,” I said and he arched an eyebrow.
“I’ve already seen you, Darya,” he replied in a deep voice, referring to how I’d climbed from the bath right in front of him. His expression said he’d mentally catalogued every inch of me and goosepimples covered my arms.
I gritted my teeth and stared him down. “Fine. Give it here.”
His expression was triumphant, like he’d won something. I turned around and walked to the full-length mirror. Feeling shameless, I made eye contact with him through the glass and undid the towel before letting it drop to the floor. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a flutter in his jaw as he watched me, his eyes drifting down my body and back up. My every pore was tight with awareness as I slipped into the dress and then he was behind me, his mouth at my ear again. “I’ll button you up.”
There was a long row of small, silken buttons down the back of the dress, and I submitted to his offer since it was impossible for me to do them up myself. His knuckles momentarily brushed my shoulder blade, making my stomach do a quick somersault. His hand lingered at the back of my neck when he was done and a shiver ran down my spine. “Perfect,” he murmured, his eyes doing another sweep up and down my now clothed form. The dress fit me fine, but it was far from perfect. Also, I wasn’t wearing any underwear since the ones I’d had on were dirty and I drew the line at stealing a stranger’s under things.
Vas’ hand moved from my neck, trailing along my shoulder and down my arm. A low fizzle of desire trickled over me at his touch. “What are you going to wear?” I asked, my throat catching a little. He stared at me like it hurt to tear his eyes away.
Finally, he went to the closet and pulled out a suit that was a shade darker than my dress. The collar was a sort of wrapped tunic style rather than a typical folded down collar.
“Blue is also my colour,” he said with a heated gaze before proceeding to drop his towel. This time I didn’t get the chance to avert my eyes and I caught sight of just how well-endowed he was. Cheeks burning and pulse pounding, I looked away and focused on running my fingers through my wet hair. Bloody hell, was he trying to give me a heart attack? It took a few minutes to regulate my breathing and I caught a faint smirk touch his lips like he knew, the bastard.
Next to the mirror there was a dressing table and several grooming tools, one of which was a hairbrush. I combed out the tangles then found a silver clip.
“What hairstyles do the women wear here?” I asked, turning to catch sight of Vasilios in his midnight blue suit. He looked stunningly handsome, the colour complimenting his eyes and dark blond hair. I had to work hard not to gape. I’d never seen him dressed so smartly. It was a lot to take in all at once.
He approached, taking the clip from my hand and placing it back down on the dresser. Then he lifted the brush and combed one side of my hair away from my face. His movements were careful, gentle even, and a wave of emotion clogged my throat at the tender way he groomed me.
He picked the clip back up and slid it through my hair, securing it just above my left ear. “Like this,” he murmured, then ran his hand through the damp waves that hung around my shoulders.
