by Jesse Joren
"This is yours," he said. "A gift from me to you. Welcome home."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
That made me break away from Hex's arms as I whirled around to stare at him. His words had no meaning, like someone speaking Sanskrit. My lungs felt as if someone had vacuumed all the air out of them.
A joke. That was it. He was teasing me.
"Funny. Where's the camera? Going to put this on YouTube?" I asked.
"This penthouse is yours. Bought in your name, mine not involved in any way. Obviously I don't own this building. You have your own space again."
My head was spinning. Buckhead was pricey and then some. Low-wage working girls didn't live here, unless they were renting a single room. Or they married their bosses.
Anything here didn't come cheap. Add "Ritz" and the price tag climbed. Not to mention that this was a corner penthouse, and a huge one at that.
The sun edged below the horizon at that moment, making the city lights twinkle brighter in the deepening dusk.
"Okay, enough with the joke," I said.
"No joke. This is yours. Ask one of your attorney friends to look over the deed. No strings attached."
By this point, I knew something about Hex and his expressions. He wasn't kidding. A short silence followed.
"Why would you do this?" I asked finally. "Do you think you owe me? Because I can't accept this, however nice your reasons may be."
"I don't do nice," he said. "I have the selfish motivation to keep you safe. I can't keep you at Walden forever. This is a compromise."
"Some compromise," I murmured, with a glance around. The furnishings were clearly the work of a talented designer, everything sleek but cozy. I loved the airiness and peace, but…
"You know I can't take this," I said.
"Yes, you can, and you will. I don't have time to chase you all over Atlanta."
He pulled me back into his arms, and I felt his lips touch my hair.
"Before you get too wound up, there's one more thing I want you to see," he said. "You might want to consolidate your protests."
I whirled on Hex where he lounged on the huge king-sized bed, grinning at me.
"What are you playing at?" I demanded. "You know I can't take this!"
"This" was inside the master bedroom closet. It looked like a department store, except that no store I'd ever been able to shop in had all these designer tags. It was stuffed with dresses. Suits and blouses. Jeans. Pumps. Sandals. Boots. Purses. Belts. Formal. Casual.
"You have to, unless you want to be naked. I really did burn all your clothes," he said. "Well, everything except what's in that bottom drawer."
I gave him what I hoped was a dirty look as I went to the drawer and opened it. Three things were inside, the only things I would have really cared to lose in my old apartment.
A paper-thin Alabama jersey, too small for several years but kept for good luck in championship games.
One black jeweler's box containing Michael's lynx pendant, clean and resting on a bed of cotton.
And the Springfield handgun, also clean and tucked into a small metal gun safe.
"It has real bullets again," Hex said behind me. "If you want to shoot me, this time I promise not to get out of the way."
He was leaned in the doorway, watching me.
My fingers traced Michael's pendant as tears came to my eyes. How effortlessly he read my mind and heart.
He also kidnapped you and burned your stuff. Giving you a penthouse makes him extravagant, not normal.
That unwelcome little voice of reality simply wouldn't give up.
"I'm not planning to shoot you," I said, "but I'm not accepting this. Maybe just a few of the less expensive clothes until I can get some others, but –"
"I could just tie you up until you agree with me," he said. "Or I could take you to dinner and we can discuss it. Your choice."
His words were like fuel on top of the hot coals of desire that always seemed to simmer inside of me now.
"I want both," I said.
The grin that lit up his eyes made me glad that I'd been bold. Walden had changed me.
"Haven't you learned anything about deals with the Devil?" he teased. "Too late now. I'm holding you to it. And Eva?"
"Hmm?"
"I'll be collecting later tonight. In full," he said. "You better be ready for me. I'm not at half power anymore from snakebite."
Holy hell. That had been half-power Hex? The closet seemed to spin a little around me.
"Not until I have a bath to soak off a few layers of cabin grime," I said with a demure smile.
"You're beautiful even with all those smudges," he said. "But I have a much better idea than a plain old bath."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
"Are you sure this place is even open?" I asked.
Hex had refused to let me run a bath, hurrying me out of the penthouse and up Peachtree Street. It was packed with people out for Friday night, making me very aware of my wilted clothes.
Now we were standing in front of a plain, sleek door of pale wood. A single word, Ro, was stenciled in large white letters, right in the middle.
"This looks like a secret lodge," I said. "What is it? Knights of the Hot Water and Soap?"
"Not exactly," he said as he knocked.
It was opened by a tall woman who looked to be in her early thirties. Her exotic beauty made me even more aware of my smudged appearance.
"Good evening, Mr. D'Amitri," she greeted Hex.
He gave me a mischievous glance before saying, "Good evening, Dani," and ushering us into a cozy waiting area with lots of stone and wood. "This is Eva. Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice."
"It's my pleasure," she said, shaking my hand with a gentle grip.
She was graceful and stunning with shoulder-length black hair, dark blue eyes, and pale skin. I found myself wondering if she'd ever "accommodated" Hex in more personal ways.
Stop it, Eva. Just stop. Even if she did, it's none of your business.
"Eva and I have a special evening planned. Once you're done, maybe she can dress here as well?"
"Of course," she said, and there was no mistaking the tiny wink she gave me. I liked her, in spite of feeling totally outclassed. "We'll take very good care of her."
"Could I have a word with you before you go, Stephen?" I asked.
His lips twitched.
"I'll be back in a moment to get started," Dani said before vanishing through a doorway.
"Look," I said as soon as she was out of earshot. "It's not that I can't accept a gift graciously or anything, but we shouldn't be here. I don't even want to know how much this place costs."
"Of course you do," Hex said, then he told me.
I almost choked.
"Holy hell. What are they going to do? Cover me in pure gold?"
"No, but they do offer a caviar body scrub if you want it," he said. "And you are a horrible receiver of gifts. It's a spa trip, nothing elaborate."
"At that price, it better be elaborate," I said grimly. "Hex, I really don’t think –"
"Eva," he said, "think about all those miles, all those hours on the rope, all those stairs. Every aching muscle. Now tell me you think this is too much."
His words brought back all the hot, sticky months at Walden. The long days and the sweaty exercise clothes that could literally be wrung out when I was done. Not to mention the nights I was too sore to sleep.
"You better throw in that caviar body scrub too," I said at last.
"What does Ro mean?" I asked Dani a short time later. I was melting into a warm mineral mud bath that seemed to leach every bit of soreness out of my body.
"It's Icelandic for tranquility," she said as she trickled jasmine-scented oil through my hair. "It's my little piece of my home country that I brought with me."
"For example
, this is a real volcanic silica mud," she said, swirling her hand through the chalky-white water. "Too bad there's not a way to get the actual water here. There's nothing quite like it for purification."
I didn't know about purification, but her hands were absolute magic. She'd mentioned something called a lava massage. Sign me up.
"It was nice of you to stay open just for me."
She tugged my hair in a gentle way that made me sigh and melt deeper into the bath. The sensation, combined with the soft sounds of the mud in the stone pool, was about to send me to sleep.
"I'm not going to be offended if you nap," she said. "A lot of my clients do that."
When Hex had told me the price, I was horrified at how much it cost. Now I was starting to think that she didn't charge enough.
Dani was as good as her word. I nearly fell asleep on the massage table as soon as she touched me. When she was done my whole body was soft and sleek, my nails buffed and glowing from the mani-pedi she gave me as I dozed.
"This came for you during the scrub," she said, showing me a long plastic bag covering items on a clothes hanger. "We'll get your hair washed and dried, then see how it all looks together."
With care I slid the plastic off. What I found underneath made me
"Let's see what it is," I said, taking the plastic off. A gasp escaped me.
The dress was a dream, softly shimmering in shades of champagne and pale gold overlay. My fingers trembled a little as I touched the tags.
Oscar de la Renta. A very beautiful size nine. I was into single digits.
Delicate Bulgari sandals were tucked in a bag attached to the hanger, along with soft, lacy wisps of bra and panties in the same foamy shade of sweet champagne.
I closed my mouth and glanced at Dani, who was clearly much more used to seeing clothes like this than I was.
"Lovely color, and not too much detail to detract from the lines," she said, touching the dress with a practiced eye. "We'll leave your hair and makeup very natural, to complement the simplicity of the dress."
"And if you don't mind," she added, "I'd like you to wait until I have you all put together before you look in the mirror. So you get the whole effect all at once."
"That's fine," I said though very dry lips.
There was no need to tell her that I hadn't seen myself in a mirror in a very long time. There was no way to put into words the mix of anticipation and doubt that swirled inside of me.
Dani seemed to sense some of the emotion that surged up inside of me. She briefly disappeared and returned with a pair of heated booties that she knelt down to guide onto my feet.
"Here," she said. "You looked a little cold."
She had it exactly right, even if she didn't know it. I had cold feet. Cold feet about facing myself for the first time in months.
The sandals were much higher in the heel than anything I'd ever worn, even before my time at Walden. I was glad for Dani's support as she guided me, eyes closed, to the dressing room mirror. The fabric of the dress was like a caress with each movement.
She stopped me, and I felt her hands making last-minute tweaks to my hair.
"Okay," she said with satisfaction in her voice. "You can look now, Eva."
My feet. I'd start with them. That couldn't be too much of a shock. I dipped my head and opened my eyes.
The sandals clung like pale gold mist to my feet, accentuating the glow of my shell-pink toenails. My legs were shapely and strong, rising up to the dress that hit me daringly at mid-thigh.
The dress fit me as though made for me, accentuating the hourglass of my figure and hugging me in all the right places.
My eyes traveled up, noticing the new toned shape of my arms, the almost-sexy lines of my shoulders. The halter-top dress clung in just the right way around my breasts, slowing plenty of the skin that Dani had buffed to perfection.
I wasn't a size two. Not even close. But I was something.
No use putting it off. With a deep breath, I looked into my face for the first time since Hex had kidnapped me.
Still me. Still Eva, but sleeker and stronger. My face was still round, but it had thinned just enough to show my cheekbones, everything accentuated by the expensive makeup that Dani had applied with a light hand.
My hair was a lot longer after so many months without a cut, falling below the middle of my back. It shone brightly under the dressing room lights, all the natural highlights brought to life.
I met my own eyes in the mirror. Confident and happy. That was what the light in my eyes said. Ready to take on the world.
"You must be a witch if you can make me look this good," I told Dani.
She smiled and used a soft brush to blend a little more powder high on my cheeks.
"You gave me a good canvas to work with," she said. "I can only enhance what's already there. You look lovely."
"No, she doesn't," Hex's voice said behind us.
We both turned and there he was, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a dark blue suit that clearly had been fitted to every gorgeous line of his body.
The crisp white shirt accentuated his tanned skin and pale eyes. He wasn't wearing a tie, and the wolf claw gleamed darkly at the base of his throat. His hair gleamed rich gold, pulled back again into the short ponytail.
He started toward us, his gaze flowing over me like molten silver.
"She looks fucking royal," he said.
He took my hand and brushed his lips over the back of it. Passion vibrated in his voice, and he looked at me with a pride that took my breath away.
But there was something that made me uneasy. What was that dark look in his eyes, even as he smiled?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
"You must be blackmailing everyone in Atlanta to get all these favors," I said a short time later. "What is it? Compromising selfies with farm animals? Something worse. Society gals caught buying off the rack?"
"I know the owner," Hex said with a laugh. "If he's visiting any farms, it's probably just to buy organic produce. If it's more than that, I don't want to know."
We were sitting in the small VIP section of Trinity, currently the hottest restaurant in the city. Somehow Hex had walked in and scored this primo table on the private second floor, overlooking the crowded restaurant below.
The manager had greeted "Mr. D'Amitri" and shepherded us personally up the wide curving stairs. A teeming crowd was waiting, and I heard someone say it was almost two hours for a table.
Many pairs of female eyes followed Hex lustfully as we passed. I'd always suspected he'd have that effect, but holy hell. Some of them looked ready to throw him into the floor and get right to it.
The chairs were very tall, even in my heels. Hex brushed this problem aside by picking me up and settling me on a high padded seat before taking the one beside me.
Tonight he looked confident, sexy, and slightly dangerous, the dark suit and ponytail working together in exactly the right way. I had trouble peeling my eyes away from him. A jealous part of me noticed that women at other tables were having the same problem.
Menus were presented, along with a rapid murmur of the evening specials. I was too dazed to catch most of it, but something about a passion fruit soufflé did stick with me.
There were no prices listed on the menu. That was sort of a relief.
"If you trust me, I'll order supper for us," Hex said. "You can throw it in my face if you don't like it. Why are you smiling? Don't believe me?"
"Because you said supper," I said. "Isn't it din-nah when it's a place like this?"
"If we're paying," he said, "then it's whatever we damn well please."
"Okay, supper," I agreed. "I'm not even going to ask what kind of –"
A sudden commotion nearby interrupted me. A strident female voice made all conversation pause.
"What do you mean that table's n
ot available? My staff expressly asked for it when they booked this reservation over a month ago."
The next voice sounded like a very apologetic waiter.
"Yes, most sorry about that, there was a double-booking. We do have this other excellent table in the VIP. May I offer a complimentary bottle of champagne for the change?"
"I don't want that table," the voice persisted. "This is a very important dinner. Tell them to sit someplace else."
"I do understand, ma'am, but I can't just –"
"Forget it. I'll tell them to switch tables myself."
Her voice was now almost right behind me. I turned on the high seat and found myself face-to-face with Stella St. Claire.
She was still the same, beautiful and dressed in a charcoal silk suit that accentuated her toned figure and long legs. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a stylish way that framed the striking lines of her face.
Her gaze flicked right past me to Hex. I wasn't sure if she didn't recognize me or didn't care to even acknowledge my presence.
"Hello," she said, peering at him in the soft light. "We booked this table a long time ago. I'm sure your little date would be just as nice —"
"Good evening, Stella," he said. "I believe we met once before. Stephen D'Amitri, and of course, you know Evangeline Bright."
Stella turned her eyes to me. Her expression morphed from slow recognition to absolute shock.
"Eva," she stammered, "I wasn't expecting to see you back in Atlanta quite yet. What are you doing here?"
"Hi Stella," I said as I slid my glance toward Hex.
This ought to be good.
"Eva and I are celebrating tonight," he said, "so I'm sure you can understand if we're not able to swap tables."
Her glance raked me, taking in every nuance of my appearance. Then she seemed to recover as her bitchiness galloped to the rescue.
"I hope you haven't been working too hard, Eva," she said with false concern. "You seem rather pale. You could use some sun."
"Just busy making the firm look good," I said cheerfully. "I don't have to ask how hard you've been working, Stella. You look tired. I hope you're taking good care of yourself."