Suddenly Beautiful (Entangled Covet) (9 page)

“This is Miko. She’s going to update your hair.”

Nikki smiled but Miko didn’t smile back, already focused on her task.

She sifted Nikki’s hair through her fingers, rubbing the strands between her thumb and index finger, and then held each section out to examine it. “Dry, split ends, washed-out color.”

Nikki felt like she’d just flunked Beauty 101. “Sorry.”

“We need layers and more blond.” Miko dropped the hair as if it were a pair of dirty underwear. She leveled her hand just below Nikki’s shoulder in a kind of stylist ninja chop. “I think six inches once I get this combed out.”

Nikki glanced at José, who was tapping his cheek with a blue-polished fingernail and nodding his head. Pushing all her doubts aside, Nikki said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

If not for José’s constant stream of chatter, there would have been no speaking at all. Miko’s task of creating photo-worthy hair seemed to require the focus of a yogi attaining nirvana. She set forth attempting to smooth the frizz, which was both painful and slightly humiliating. Nikki bit down on her lip, resisting the urge to curse each time Miko yanked at a particularly stubborn knot. Once finished, the hairdresser exchanged her comb for scissors.

Six inches had been a conservative estimate. Closer to eight inches dropped to the floor with each precise cut Miko made. To Nikki, the damaged chunks of hair sliding down the plastic cape she wore were symbolic of getting rid of her tired routine. This was a bold move she was making, and a way to step out of the rut she’d been stuck in for the last few years. Out with old.

Tor had awoken her last night to what she’d been missing, and if he wasn’t man enough to own what they’d shared, she’d show him what he’d be missing.

Every so often Miko would drag lengths of hair through her fingers, checking for unevenness. The cut took no more than thirty minutes, and when she was finished, Miko jammed the scissors into her tool belt like a gunslinger and ran her hands through Nikki’s hair.

Seemingly satisfied with the cut, Miko preceded to mix two bowls of different colored gel. Her strokes were lightning fast, as if she’d blended color a thousand times. She sectioned small pieces of Nikki’s hair, slathered the segments with gel, and layered them between sheets of foil. After completely covering her hair, Miko rolled a hair dryer over to where Nikki sat and adjusted the height before turning the machine on. Warm air buffeted Nikki’s head, and the low roar of the dryer drowned out José’s monologue about celebrity face-lifts.

The heat relaxed her while she waited for the color to take hold. Nikki’s head felt several pounds lighter from her new haircut, and she was excited to see the finished product.

After twenty minutes, Miko clicked off the dryer. “Come.”

She led Nikki to a black sink and turned on the sprayer, signaling her to sit. The chair slanted backward and the sink caught Nikki at the neck so she could rest her head. Miko plucked the pieces of foil from Nikki’s head, occasionally yanking out a strand or two. Nikki refrained from flinching, and was rewarded when the stylist turned on the warm water. While one hand held the sprayer, the other massaged Nikki’s scalp. It was two minutes of bliss that caused her eyes to drift shut and her body to fully relax under Miko’s talented fingers. Before Nikki could fall asleep, the water snapped off, bringing her back from her peaceful doze.

“Come.”

Not waiting for her to follow, the stylist strode back to her station and spun the chair in invitation. Nikki struggled upright and shook her head, trying to bring feeling back to her scalp and adjust to the new weight of her hair. The woman’s silent stare propelled her off the shampoo chair and back into the stylist’s chair. Another five minutes of blow-drying, and Nikki was left with a hairstyle so stunning, she never would have believed the hair was hers.

The overall blond brightened her complexion. On a more subtle level, the two shades played off each other, the lighter glistening when she moved her head, the darker giving her style depth. Wisps of hair around her face softened her features, making her green eyes pop and giving her an almost ethereal look.

“I love it.” She caressed the back of her head. “It’s amazing.”

For the first time since she’d started working, a small smile tugged at Miko’s lips. She gave a quick nod and turned to leave.

“Thank you,” Nikki called out after her.

The hairdresser did not reply.

“My turn.” José divested her of the plastic cape and offered her a hand. “We’re not doing much. No full-on makeup, just keeping it natural.”

He led her back to his station. Blush, mascara, and eye shadow of every color stretched before her in an organized display. He laid a towel over the front of her dress like a bib and spun the chair to face him. Without hesitation, he picked up the first two foundations and began what could only be described as mixing his colors like an artist.

Skilled strokes blended the makeup over her face. “Normally we do the hair last.” He grabbed a hunk of hair, twisted it and clipped it to the top of her head. “But Miko had another shoot, and Mr. Killion wanted the best.”

“That was very sweet of Miko to squeeze me in.”

The makeup artist secured another bunch of hair.
Yes it was, wasn’t it?

A warm flush crept across Nikki’s neck. “I’m not sleeping with Creed Killion.”

“I never said you were.” The look of shocked outrage fell flat. “But now that we’re on the subject…”

“I didn’t realize we were.”

“Who
is
he seeing?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I met him for the first time yesterday.”

José’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, but I
will
find out.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.”

It seemed what José liked best, even more than makeup, was gossip. The rest of the session was spent chatting about this model or what star he’d worked on. Some of the things he told her were downright shocking and personal. She mentally made a note to never fall under his magical effect and share private information.

Two hours later Creed showed up. He stopped by the chair, staring into the mirror at Nikki. “Wow.”

A full blush blossomed across her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“No, I mean it.” He turned to José and patted him on the shoulder. “Fantastic job. You and Miko really are the best in the business.”

The makeup artist puffed up his chest. “True, but it’s easy when you have such fresh beauty to work with.”

The men gazed at her with admiration. José because of his own genius, and Creed—well, she suspected it had less to do with the actual shoot and more to do with his infatuation with her.

“What next?” She pulled the towel from her chest and sat forward.

“Now it’s my turn.” Creed offered her his hand.

He led her to the studio and placed her in front of the camera. The set had been changed while she underwent her transformation. A muted blue screen now stood in place of the stark white one, and a fan had been placed at the edge of the set.

“Stand here and do what comes naturally.” Creed rubbed her upper arm. “You’re going to be great.”

She nodded, unsure what would come naturally to her. Would she fall into the groove of modeling, sensing what the camera loved, or would she look like a stiff robot? A young woman with bright-pink hair and multiple piercings switched on the fan. The breeze brushed Nikki’s skin, which turned out to be a blessing with the heat from the glaring lights.

Soft wisps of hair fluttered around her face and hugged her neck. She felt beautiful, utterly and completely, to the very tips of her toes.

The click of the camera whirred, and she swayed into the breeze of the fan. She attempted a flirty pout but felt like an idiot and began to laugh. Creed continued to snap photos, capturing every move she made. Her self-consciousness evaporated and what she hoped was natural talent took over.

…

Tor watched Nikki from the shadows of the set. He’d returned from his tailor’s early, refusing to admit he didn’t want to leave Nikki alone with Creed for too long.

Fairly certain Nikki couldn’t see him beyond the bright lights, he took the opportunity to observe her with unguarded appreciation. She was beautiful, more so since she’d been fluffed and folded into a grade-A model. He loved her new hairstyle. When she struck a suggestive pose and smiled at the camera, his jaw clenched and unclenched, his groin tightening with yet another bothersome erection. Was her smile for the sake of the shoot or for Creed?

She spun and looked over her shoulder and images from his dream flashed through his mind. He and Nikki in the elevator. Him taking her from behind. The memory gave him pause. Was it a memory? The vision was far too vivid. Had something actually happened between them?

The last thing he remembered clearly was excusing himself from the table. Doubt swirled around him, but he pushed it aside. Surely Nikki would have said something? He remembered the way she’d looked at him this morning, hopeful. A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he made love to her in a drunken stupor and then couldn’t remember anything that happened this morning? He tried to replay the night’s events, but his head began to ache.

“What did you do, Toraos?” he muttered to himself.
Gone and screwed up a perfectly good work situation?

Desire gripped him with each smile and pose she struck. At this rate, he’d be taking eight cold showers a day. More images from his dreams revealed themselves. Nikki playfully splashing him in the bathtub and then climbing onto his lap, where she rode him until spent. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to embarrass himself.

It took all his willpower to leave when what he really wanted was to stay and watch this frisky side of his usually efficient assistant. He pushed away from the wall and marched back to his office. Whether he’d slept with her or not, the images were messing with his mind and giving him ideas he shouldn’t be having—not to mention a bad case of schoolboy wood. She was his assistant. That’s all. He should be finding out what actually happened, not entertaining the what-ifs.

An odd, but all too frequent, thought popped into his head—his mother. Did she have a hand in this? It wouldn’t surprise him if she’d concocted some nefarious plan to screw with his life. After all, hadn’t she been asking about Nikki just yesterday? It seemed like too much of a coincidence. If she’d drugged his wine, he would kill her—immortal or not.

He marched to the elevator and punched level
A. Soft music mixed with the hush of the car’s ascent. The higher he traveled, the more irritated he became. The elevator door slid open, and Tor strode past the handsome young man at the reception desk.

His mother’s assistant jumped up from his seat. “Excuse me. Sir, excuse me! You can’t go in there.”

Tor ignored him and pushed open the glass door of his mother’s office. She sat at her desk with her legs extended, resting on the firm thighs of yet another assistant. The twenty-something, bare-chested underwear model looked like he had just stepped off a billboard in Times Square. He sat on the floor, rubbing—or more like worshipping—his mother’s feet.

“Tor.” His mother gave him one of her famous smiles. “What a surprise.”

He stomped to her desk and leaned over it. “We need to talk.”

Her smile faded. “What did I do now?”

His gaze tracked to the young man on the floor.

“Oh, all right.” Aphrodite sighed and leaned forward to pat the massaging hands. “Wait in the outer office, Jarl. This shouldn’t take long.” She extracted her foot from his grasp. “I promise we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

A pout curled Jarl’s lower lip, but he did as she told him. It took all of Tor’s patience not to toss the man out of the office by the waist of his low-slung jeans. When Jarl was gone, Tor turned to his mother. “What is going on?”

Her brow furrowed. “I was having a nice massage until you rudely interrupted it.”

“I don’t mean here.” He waved his hand, indicating her office. “I mean with Nikki. Are the Fates messing with me again? Are you?”

“I’ve done nothing.” She picked up a mirror and checked her lipstick, giving a little swipe at the corner of her mouth with her pinky. “And from what I hear, there are more than enough celebrities to keep the Fates occupied.” A look of concern crossed her face. “Why? What’s going on?”

He pushed away from the desk and propped his hands on his hips, not sure he wanted to share any details of his personal life with his mother, but seeing no other choice. “It’s Nikki.”

She set the mirror down and gave him her full attention. “Nothing has happened to her, I hope.”

He grunted. “A lot, which is another thing I need to talk to you about.” He pivoted and paced across the floor. If his mother had meddled in their lives, then telling her that Azzura Li Fonti was Nikki’s mother would give him great satisfaction. But he had to tread lightly. Aphrodite had a bad temper, and he didn’t want her anger taken out on Nikki. “Before I tell you this, promise me you won’t fly into one of your irrational goddess rages.”

She folded her fingers together and rested her chin on her fists. “Sounds interesting.”

He glared at her.

“Fine.” She leaned back in her chair and held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor, I won’t get angry.”

He eyed her and was semi-satisfied she meant what she said. “It’s about Nikki’s mother.”

A faint smile played across Aphrodite’s mouth. “Azzura Li Fonti?”

His mouth dropped open. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. You don’t think I’m just another pretty face, do you?”

Actually, he had. “Then why did you let me hire her?”

“You know the saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“I always thought you liked Nikki.”

“I do.” She pushed up from the chair and glided around her desk. “She’s a wonderful girl. Gets that from her father’s side.” She crossed her arms over her chest and rested her butt against the desk. “She’s nothing like her mother, and she cares a lot about you.”