Page 30 of Vows of Revenge

Her breath had caught as one of the assistants had brought it in. Its silky, silvery folds had slithered over her head, over the soft satin camisole and stockings into which she’d been helped, and her feet had been slipped into shoes whose heels were higher than anything she was used to.

And when it had all been done, she’d gazed at herself in the mirror.

She had felt disbelief filling her, and shocked amazement—and beneath and above both of those something else. Something that had made her glow from the inside out...

She’d felt her breathing quicken, her pulse quicken, and she could feel it still now, as she walked carefully on the high heels she wasn’t used to across the grand marble-floored foyer—busy at this time of the day—looking around for the elevators.

A member of the hotel staff stepped forward.

‘May I help you, madam?’ he enquired politely.

Kassia murmured the suite number Damos had texted her.

‘Of course. This way, if you please.’

She was ushered into a waiting lift, emerging moments later into a wide, thickly carpeted upper lobby, off which suite doors opened. The staff member led her towards the one marked ten and pressed the intercom. A moment later the door buzzed open and he was ushering her inside, withdrawing as Kassia stepped through.

She was in an elegantly appointed reception room and Damos was standing by the window. Looking right at her.

Not moving.

Completely and absolutely still.

But from across the room Kassia could see in his eyes something that suddenly, gloriously, made the glow inside her blaze...

Damos could not move. Not a muscle. it was impossible even to think of doing so. His entire being was focussed on his gaze, on what he was seeing.

For an endless moment Damos just went on staring. Then: ‘You looksensational!’

No other word would do. A surge of triumph went through him. He crossed towards her, taking her hands, his eyes alight.

‘I knew—knewit was possible!’

His eyes worked over her. He thought of the way he’d last seen her. In that concealing, shapeless, doing-nothing-for-her shop-bought dress, with her hair in a stark knot on top of her head and her face bare of make-up.

It was a thousand miles away from the woman who stood there now—a thousand, thousand.

Her evening gown was in a distinctive thirties style, cut on the bias, completely slinky, with narrow shoulder straps, and it pooled at her ankles. It was made of some kind of shimmering, silvery material that reflected the silvery sheen of her eyes—eyes which skilful make-up had now deepened and enhanced. Mascara lengthened her lashes, her cheekbones were sculpted by blusher, and her mouth—oh, her mouth!—was enriched with lush, dark red lipstick. He glanced down at her hands held in his, and saw that it matched her newly manicured nails.

As for her hair—its nondescript light brown had been coloured to a rich chestnut and it was loosened, finally, from its confining knot to sweep, lush and long, around one bare shoulder.

And her figure...

A rush of renewed triumph went through him. Finally he was seeing what her dowdy clothes had so obdurately concealed from him. Her fantastic, slender, racehorse figure, delicately sculpted, graceful and long-limbed.

His hands tightened on hers for a moment.

‘I can’t get over it,’ he said, still sounding stunned. ‘Kassia, I can’tbelieveyou were hiding all this!’

He saw a tremulous smile form at her lips.

‘I... I didn’t know I was hiding it,’ she said.

He gave a laugh, swiftly lifting one of her hands to his mouth, and then the other, then lowering them again.

‘Well, one thing is absolutely for sure—you areneverhiding it again!

He led her forward, releasing one of her hands, admiring the way her walk was swaying now, courtesy of her four-inch heeled silver evening shoes. He turned her towards the mirror over the pier table. Still holding her hand, he looked at their reflections, side by side. He heard her breath catch. Saw her beautiful eyes glow more silver.

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