Page 55 of Stolen Summer
But hours later, the memory brought a stupid grin to my lips.
The time we spent together today had been so different than when we’d been locked in his house during the storm. I tried not to think too hard about it, but there wasn’t a part of Cole that didn’t confuse yet intrigue me, and I was starting to think the problem was more me than him.
I rarely spend time on my hair and makeup, but I’d devoured hours of YouTube beauty videos. Tonight, I’d taken extra care with my appearance. I couldn’t remember the last time I worked so hard at styling my long hair or carefully applying my makeup. I didn’t think I ever had. In high school, I’d skipped all the important dances like prom and homecoming. It had been hard for me to put importance on things like how perfect my hair was or what eyeshadow highlighted my eyes best. I’d always been the young girl with big problems.
Fussing with a stubborn curl framing my face, I scowled. I wanted to look good, but I wanted to play my part well, whatever part that was. I had this intense work ethic inside me, and it wouldn’t let me do anything half-assed, not when I was being paid. My personal life was an entirely different story.
My hands dropped to my side, nervousness fluttering in my stomach, and I sighed with frustration. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, Arie?
I sensed I wasn’t alone, a prickle of awareness tingling at the back of my exposed neck. My hair was pinned up, tendrils of loose curls falling from the ponytail. Using the mirror, I lifted my gaze, spotting Cole lingering in the doorway.
Enamored by the way he glanced me over, I watched as his eyes took in every inch of me from the black pants molded to my body like a second skin to the detailed corset bodice, tied tight at my waist. It did amazing things for my breasts, pushing them up front and center. The lowcut top showed more skin than my usual attire, but nothing any less risqué than the bikinis I wore. Yet something about the outfit oozed sexuality, something I wouldn’t say I had an abundance of. Frankie would be so damn proud.
Heat flared in his eyes as they pierced mine.
I couldn’t look away because I loved the way he stared at me. No one had ever looked at me the way Cole did.
Color deepened the spots on my cheeks where I’d applied blush. “So, what do you think? Does this meet your approval?” I asked, breaking the silence between us. I couldn’t take the tension building in the room anymore. If I wanted to get through this night, I needed to be calm and levelheaded, not swept up in Cole’s world or in the way he made me feel.
“You could be wearing nothing, and you’d still be the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, Killer.” His voice was gruff. Romantic compliments didn’t come easy to Cole, at least not this Cole. Tonight, he was colder, serious, all business, his muscular frame edged with danger and darkness. The flirtatious, tongue-in-cheek, and playfully rude boy from earlier today didn’t exist in the man who stood before me in all black again just like he’d been last night.
I swallowed, willing my heart to slow the fuck down. “Do you think anyone would mind if I showed up naked?” God, what a pathetic joke. Why is he making me so nervous?
Cole’s long legs carried him across the room, and he stopped behind me, close enough I could feel his heat seeping into my bare shoulders and back. “You don’t need my approval, Killer. Nor anyone else’s, including my parents.”
I continued to hold his gaze in the reflection. “Isn’t that the point of our arrangement?”
“Not exactly.”
There was no point pressing him for details. He was like an iron safe. Impossible to break. “I’m meeting your parents tonight?” The prospect gave me mixed emotions. So far, Cole had few nice things to say about his father, and I wasn’t keen about meeting the Riley patriarch.
“I have the same sense of dread whenever I have to see them too,” he said, having seen my expression change.
“Cole,” I shrieked, whirling around. I whacked him on the arm. “You’re making me more nervous.”
His gaze flickered over my face. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispered, his voice lowering with a tinge of protectiveness that made me regret turning so we were toe-to-toe.
Unease stirred. Like I needed one more thing to be worried over. “Is that a possibility?”
“In my world, it’s a given,” he said in what sounded awfully like a warning.
The gilded cage always sparkled and glimmered from the outside, but once locked in, the cage lost all its shine and appeal. Perhaps that was how it was for him. Was Cole a prince locked in the tower waiting to be rescued and set free? The image made me smirk.
“Before you make some lewd comment, I’m wearing underwear.”
He chuckled. “You might not be by the end of the night.”
“Don’t count on it, rich boy.” Blowing out a breath, I smoothed invisible wrinkles from my pants. “Should we get this night over?”
“There is just one thing missing.” Cole lifted something in his hand I hadn’t noticed. The tattoos on his fingers seemed more of a threat tonight than a rebellious statement. Dangling on a silky ribbon was a mask, the kind you would wear to a masquerade ball.
“What’s that?” I asked, staring at the intricate black lace.
Cole lifted the mask in front of my face, his eyes on mine. “Necessary for where we’re going.”
“A masquerade ball?” Why else would I be wearing a mask? Unless he wanted to hide me. If he was ashamed of being seen with someone like me, then why was I going?
I hated the self-doubt that skittered inside me like a dirty old stain I’d thought had been washed away.