Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kieran
O f all of the things that I thought might possibly happen, Ada coming to ask for my help was the very last. Her voice is soft and reluctant, but she clearly feels she has no other choice.
I step forward into the steam-filled bathroom but Ada doesn’t so much as make eye contact with me. Hell, I don’t blame her for being frantic to get the dress off, the steam is starting to make the room feel sweltering.
She trembles as she turns to face the shower, sweeping her hair over her shoulder in a subtle request for help. The back of the dress looks like an insane puzzle, I’ve never seen anything quite so intricate. It appears that in her attempt to take it off, the buttons have become tangled with the zipper so that it can’t move.
With patience and strong fingers, I untangle the dress, making an effort not to pinch her in the process. I try to keep from touching her more than necessary. I will not touch her until she asks me to.
Every inch the zipper goes down just reveals more of her satin soft skin. It takes far more effort than I want to admit to keep my knuckles from brushing along it.
What’s gotten into me?
Ada is breathtakingly beautiful, that’s a fact. She has made a whole career out of the fact that she’s a stunningly attractive woman. Yet, now I know that there’s much more to her. Why does that make me want to touch her even more? I didn’t take into account that I might be so attracted to her.
“…Kieran?”
Ada’s voice snaps me out of my daze, the zipper of her dress half down. She’s looking at me over her shoulder almost curiously. The moment stretches as I allow myself the time to truly take in her symmetrical features, the soft slant to her nose and the fullness of her naturally pouty mouth.
I pull the zipper the rest of the way down without breaking eye contact with her. Then I pull my hands back to myself with some semblance of respectfulness. I fully expect her to wait for me to leave to remove the dress, but the moment my hands are no longer on her, she slips the thing off of her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground in a beaded thump of fabric. My breath catches as she sucks in a deep breath of air like she wasn’t able to breathe properly before.
Not many people surprise me anymore.
I avert my gaze quickly, my mind racing. I have no quarrel with her. I have nothing against her whatsoever, I only need her to hurt Cristiano. I don’t even normally care what others think in most situations, so this is an unexpected contradiction to my normal ruthless demeanor. My hands flex and unclench at my sides as I find my voice.
“Is there something else that you…” I start, but she ignores me and steps into the shower, a delicate noise that seems to echo in the small bathroom. The plastic shower liner rustles as she pulls it closed and the steam envelops the room creating a cocoon of warmth and mist. She groans softly as the water hits her skin. It takes more effort than it strictly should to keep from watching the outline of her figure through the shower curtain.
By the time my hand hits the doorknob, Ada speaks again in a voice that’s even smaller than it had been before.
“Can you…” Ada starts and then hesitates for a second.
“Yes?” I ask her, waiting for whatever she’s about to request. I wouldn’t be surprised if she just told me to go screw myself.
“Can you help me with the rest of my hair?”
I glance at the collection of hair pins on the counter. I can only imagine how long it must have taken to get everything in place, but the top part of her hair is still pulled up and twisted around. I pull the curtain open enough to see her arms wrapped protectively around her person as she watches me from the corner of her eye.
“It’s just the top part that I can’t seem to untangle… if you could just…”
I dry swallow hard and move closer to her, the spray hitting my forearms as I try to untangle the pins from the top part of her hair, letting long chestnut waves fall around her face piece by piece.
What’s gotten into me? Why am I feeling flustered?
I glance at her, and she quickly looks away but I can see a tint to the back of her neck and the tips of her ears that wasn’t there before. I try to undo the knots and tangles deftly and as painlessly as possible. It’s not something that I exactly have experience in, but as she’s going to be my wife I suppose that I ought to learn.
I never pictured myself with a super model. There’s a degree of glitz and glam that comes with it, I guess. Though, in truth, before my supposed engagement to Maeve, which was arranged by my father before he died, I hadn’t given much thought to any sort of long-term relationship.
My hands are normally used for more nefarious purposes. I never had much cause in my life to be soft, or gentle. I didn’t even know that I was capable of such a thing, and the motions feel stressful as a result.
I work in silence, the silky tresses making waves over her back and shoulders, the water the only sound breaking the stillness.
Suddenly, Ada reaches forward to grab the bottle of cheap shampoo that I had grabbed from the closest convenience store.
“All in one?” She scoffs, turning the green bottle over in her hand before popping open the top to sniff the pine scent. “Really? How manly.”
Then she laughs. A bright, crisp and genuine sound that gets under my skin and gives me a strange feeling.
“I don’t know, I should have guessed, I suppose.” Ada teases, glancing back at me once more. “It’s not very… mysterious kidnapper to use bargain shampoo. And Irish? Are you kidding me?”
I drop my hands away from her hair. Nobody teases me. Nobody. Usually my stern expression and general ‘fuck off’ attitude keeps people from talking to me at all.
“Well, if you would rather do it yourself,” I sigh and start to move away from her and she reaches back and grabs my arm by the wrist.
“No, wait. I’m sorry.” Ada says with a soft forced smile, pressing the bottle of shampoo into my hand. “Please, help me. I want to smell like Irish pine trees.”
The notion is so insane, I just can’t help but laugh.