“No, I’m…”
Before EV finished the thought, Dalton burst through the door. The second EV mentioned Remy’s name, Nate had grabbed his phone to shoot off a 911 text. Dalton must have been on his way there already to have gotten to the room so quickly.
He went straight to EV pulled her to her feet, and then rested hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” The question was purposefully vague, because Dalton couldn’t ask the one he really wanted answered, which was: do you still have feelings for him?
Almost giddy with relief from the emotional baggage she’d dropped behind that column, EV nearly sang, “I’m fine—better than fine, actually. He’s going down, right?” She asked, plunking onto a chintz armchair.
It was Dalton’s turn to feel relieved. “Oh, yeah all the way.” He nudged EV over, slid into the chair beside her, and grabbed her hand for a quick squeeze before turning his attention to Nate. “What’s his next move? And how do we plan to counter it?”
“I’m betting he’ll start by contacting Lila—see what she has to say; get the lay of the land. Then, he’ll move on to setting up a chance meeting with EV. He’ll want an audience, so I’m thinking he’ll sweep in during dinner, lock eyes across the room. Fake surprise. Give her the old we really should catch up, let’s get together to talk about old times routine. I can’t imagine him coming up with anything more original than that.”
“He’ll be watching you closely to see your reaction. Do you think you can handle it? Be honest—and if you can’t, we’ll figure out another way.” Chloe’s first concern was for EV.
“Oh no. I’m fine. Trust me—he’s been out of my head for years; today just confirmed that fact. I’m all over it.”
“Okay, good. You two brainstorm.” Chloe waved a hand to indicate Nate and Dalton. “We’re going to go polish up the bait.”
Chloe laughed at the confused look on EV’s face. “Spa day, hit the salon, get you all dolled up. You’ll feel more confident when he gets a look at you and turns into a drooling idiot.” She laughed again when EV’s face fell. “Good grief, it’s not like I’m dragging you off to the torture chamber. It’s a mani-pedi and a facial. Come on. When was the last time you let anyone pamper you? Probably never. I’ll be right there with you, and we’ll charge the whole thing off to Mother’s room. She was going to insist, anyway. She’s occupied at the moment; let’s leave her out of it—trust me, it will be more pleasant this way. You could use a little smoothing of the nerves before we get to the dress-choosing portion of the wedding extravaganza, anyway.”
Before EV could utter another word of protest, Chloe had her by the arm and was pulling her out the door.
“You know I hate being fussed over.” Dalton heard her say, her voice fading into the distance.
He turned to Nate, “If he hurts her, I’ll…”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“Count on it. He doesn’t touch her. Period.”
* * *
The spa was located—appropriately, EV thought—in the castle’s former dungeon. “We don’t even have an appointment. There’s no way we’re getting in.”
Chloe tossed her an amused look, “My mother drops a fortune every time she stays here; they’d probably fly a flag with her face on it if she asked them to. Trust me, we’ll get the works.”
“Wonderful.” Sarcasm laced the word with poisonous intent.
“Oh, loosen up a little. It’s nice to be pampered once in awhile. You might like it.”
“See, that’s the problem. You act like I’ve never had a spa day before, and so will they. I’ll walk in there, and the minute they get a look at my hands, the head tilting will start.”
“The what, now?”
“You know, the sympathetic head tilt. Sometimes they even make that tsk noise. Then you can practically see the wheels turning while they try to decide what drastic measures I’ll need.”
Biting her lip, Chloe tried to stifle a grin and failed. “Bet they ask what you use on your face, though. Whatever is in that cream Thelma makes is magic. If you used it on your hands, you wouldn’t get the tilt-y head faces.”
They hit the bottom of the stairs where a pair of thick glass doors whooshed open as if on cue.
“Be nice.” Chloe hissed. “And try to enjoy this.”
For all her bluster, EV was looking forward to a couple of hours sans tension. Dalton showing up here with Remy practically on his heels put a few knots in her shoulders. Normally, she would have worked the kinks out on the big punching bag hanging in her bedroom. The castle boasted its own gym, just not one fully stocked to her tastes in exercise. Given the choice between running in place or pouring her anxieties into a righteous beating on something, she’d go for the latter.
They stepped inside, where EV watched Chloe greet some of the staff as though it hadn’t been at least three years since their last meeting. After a round of cheek kissing, Chloe introduced EV, who got the same treatment.
As Chloe had predicted, schedules were immediately shuffled and EV was dragged into a whirlwind of peace and tranquility wrapped in terrycloth softness. The next three hours passed in a blur of sensations; hot stones, moist facial masks, slippery seaweed wraps, and the coolness of peppermint foot cream.
Every bit of tension had been soothed out of her by the time those glass doors whooshed open again.
The calm feeling lasted only until Chloe’s next sentence. “Now for hair and makeup.”
“I’d like to submit a formal protest.” EV knew it was pointless, but she tried anyway.
“Denied. Come on. It’s time you met Patrice.”
A second round of cheek kissing ensued while the staff assured Chloe she was putting them to no trouble. Another flurry of activity, and an absolutely stunning
