Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
After launching from the tub, I dried off, scanning the shadows for the weirdo and redressing as quickly as I could. Time was against me. If I was going to join Roman for dinner, I needed to find a costume and get dressed bloody quickly.
I went in search of Nina. I’d need her help to find a costume malleable enough to contour to my curves.
She was in the kitchen, where I expected her to be. I made a beeline for her, greeting the other three kitchen staff as I went.
“Hey, Nina. Can you help me find a costume please?”
“Of course.” She turned to Rudolf. “Daisy needs my help.” She said it as if we were rescuing tourists from the moat. “I won’t be long.” The chef nodded and carried on chopping onions without lifting his eyes.
As Nina led me along one of the narrow passages toward the costume room, my mind slammed between that strange guy downstairs and how the hell I was going to get dressed and ready for dinner in ten minutes flat.
Nina unlocked the door and led me into the costume room. Clothing racks lined all four walls, and two more racks were positioned in the middle. She went straight to the left-hand side and plucked out a red satin dress.
“This one is perfect for you.” Nina had been dressing tourists in these clothes for as long as I’d been coming here. And our group was just one of the fifteen Vacation Dreamz tours that came to this castle every month.
“Thank you.” I held the satin bodice to my body. If my breasts fit into this, it would be a miracle. Then again, this month had been a melting pot of miracles.
Time was against me, so I’d just have to trust Nina’s judgment. With the abundant fabric curled over my arm, I headed toward the door. But just before I stepped out, I stopped and turned to her. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure, anything for you.”
“Do you have any makeup I could borrow?”
Her eyes lit up. “Of course, dear. Come to my room.”
I followed her along a series of ancient stone-lined corridors that many Austrian royals and nobility had graced. If only these halls could talk.
“Let me do your makeup for you.”
“Huh?”
Nina looked at me expectantly. “I can do your makeup for you. Many moons ago, I was a makeup artist for a traveling circus.”
“Oh, ummm.” Great. My life was already a bit of a circus. Last thing I needed was to look like I’d escaped from one.
Nina glanced at me over her shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” Her beaming grin was that of giddy excitement.
“Okay. Sure.” I hoped I wouldn’t regret that decision.
Her bedroom was at the end of the covered parapet walk in the corner tower. She unlocked the door, and we entered her hexagonal-shaped room. Its three small windows offered a differing view over the surrounding landscape .
“Sit,” she commanded, pulling a chair out from a vintage vanity dressing table that I estimated to be at least three hundred years old.
I followed her instruction and did a double-take at my reflection. My hair was wild, post - hot-tub hair . I groaned.
Nina tugged open a drawer, clipped my hair back and began applying foundation to my forehead.
“Hey, Nina. Does anyone live here in the castle?”
“You mean beside Katrin and me?”
“Yes.”
“Bruno and Rudolf stay occasionally, and the maintenance man. I don’t know if you’ve met him—Diederich?”
“Yes, I’ve met him. So, there’s nobody else?”
“Oh.” Her face lit up. “Count Frederik Von Thorsteinn still lives here.”
My stomach lurched. “Count? And he’s a Thorsteinn?”
“Yes, the last living descendant of the Thorsteinn’s.” She applied liquid foundation to my cheeks and nose, and with each brush of her sponge, more and more freckles vanished.
“What do you mean last? Has he never married?”
“Oh yes, he was married, but after the accident his wife left him.”
I frowned. “Accident?”
“Yes. A horse-riding accident.” She leaned over to dab skin-toned powder on my face. “They say he’s impotent.”
My frown deepened. “What happened?”
Her brush strokes came dangerously close to my eyes, forcing me to close them.
“He was in a horse-riding accident. Nearly killed him. He fell off in a remote section of the woods. It took three days to find him. Apparently when he fell off the horse, he knocked a wild beehive out of a tree. He’d been stung so many times, he was barely recognizable when they finally found him.”
“Oh my god.” My skin prickled at the horror .
“I know. Imagine what he went through lying out there for three days.” She shuddered. “It was all over the papers.” She leaned in to coat my lashes with mascara.
“So why did his wife leave him?”
“After that accident he was never the same. He withdrew more and more into his shell, and now he’s practically a recluse.” She shrugged and pulled a gloomy face. “Once his wife learned they could never have children, she left.” Finishing with my makeup, Nina turned her attention to my hair and began separating it into sections.
His declaration of ownership flashed through my mind. “So, he doesn’t own the castle, right? Vacation Dreamz does.”
“He sold the castle to them years ago, but he kept the keep. He pretty much stays in there all day, every day. Occasionally I see him around, but rarely.”
Mystery upon mystery.
“There,” she said with a motherly tone. “You look beautiful.”
I turned to the mirror, and for the second time this month, I was shocked at my reflection. My freckles were gone. My frizzy hair was tamed. And whatever she’d done to my eyes had them looking large and incredible. “Wow.”
I marveled over my new hairstyle. She’d pinned a section of my hair into a loose bun at the back of my head and left a few free strands to curl near my chin. In addition to that, she’d pushed decorative pins topped with little white flowers into my curls. I don’t think I have ever looked so beautiful.
Nina placed her hands on my shoulders and looked at me through the mirror. “You should dress up more often.”
I smiled. “Maybe.” I could only recall three situations where I’d genuinely liked what I saw in the mirror. One was my engagement party and the other two had happened this tour. Maybe I should have another look into this makeup thing .
“Do you need help getting into the dress?”
“Oh . . . ummm . . .” I turned to the sixteenth-century Venetian noble replica gown. The tiny waist was created by the drawstring bodice. It didn’t take much brainpower to know I had no hope of fitting into that outfit without help. “Okay, thank you.”
“Right. Get your clothes off then.” Nina tapped my shoulder, then headed toward the dress.
I’d never undressed in front of a woman before. Even my mother hadn’t seen me naked since I was about ten.
I had to get this over with before the blaze of embarrassment creeping up from my chest melted off my lovely new makeup. I tugged off my jeans and blouse and folded them onto the chair.
Nina turned to me, and I felt decidedly naked as she scanned her eyes up my body. “You’ll need to take your bra off for this one, dear.”
“Oh.” God, I hope she’s right about this dress, or my tits are going to be scraping across the stone-cold floor in no time. Reaching behind my back to undo the clips, the blaze racing up my neck hit inferno mode.
Thankfully Nina didn’t seem to notice my nakedness. At least, if she did, she didn’t make a big deal about it. She held the dress open, positioned so the front of the dress faced her.
I stepped forward, and once I was standing in the abundant skirts, she eased the fabric up over my hips and helped me feed my arms into the puffy sleeves.
“Put your breasts into position, dear.”
“Oh.” I wanted to dive into the abundant satin and disappear.
Nina moved around behind me and began tugging on the lace to draw the bodice in.
I hoisted my breasts up, manipulating them into the dress. Each time she tugged on the lace, my waist grew narrower, and my breasts plumped up higher. If she wasn’t careful, I’d suffocate in my own flesh.
Nina tied off the lace and tapped my waist to indicate she was done.
I turned to the mirror and my breath caught. In the space of twenty minutes, I’d become a princess. My jaw dropped as I studied my own reflection.
Nina’s smile replicated my sentiments. She’d performed a miracle. I was certainly getting my share of them this month.
I pulled her to my chest for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Any time, dear. You look beautiful.”
I felt beautiful. I couldn’t wait to see Roman’s reaction.
My brain skidded to a halt. Why was his reaction important? I didn’t even want to ponder that question.
I dashed to my room, dumped my clothes, locked my door, and headed toward the grand hall. With fistfuls of fabric in my hands, I raised my abundant skirts to descend the stairs.
Sounds of laughter, music, and crockery bounced around the stone walls as I made my way along the narrow corridor.
I entered the grand hall and scanned the room. Nearly everyone had dressed up. There were always a couple who didn’t. For nine months, dressing up had been what’d stopped me from coming . . . I simply couldn’t be bothered. But with the way I felt right now, beautiful, and dare I say it, sexy, I vowed never to be in that minority again.
Most guests were wearing masquerade masks, and as I scanned the men, I realized there was only one man I was searching for . . . Roman.
The guests milled around the long table centered in the grand room. It was spectacularly decorated with giant wrought-iron candelabras topped with lit candles, gold-trimmed crockery, and shiny cutlery. Along one long wall were antique furnishings that included a statue of an oversized man wearing full body armor. The opposite wall had floor-to-ceiling eighteenth-century stained-glass windows that depicted four significant events in the castle’s history.
Some guests admired the decorations, but most were scrutinizing and laughing at each other’s costumes. There were outfits from Henry the Eighth through to swashbuckling musketeers. The women were in fine ball gowns of all colors, and bulging breasts were the prominent feature, including mine, but rather than being embarrassed by them, for once it felt rather titillating to have them on display.
The room brimmed with life, and the anticipation of a great evening ahead had my heart skipping. I wanted to slap myself for missing this event on my last nine visits here.
I truly had let myself die on the inside.
Not anymore. Nope. This girl is gonna partay!
Across the crowd, I spied Mike. Our eyes locked and to my surprise, he broke from his pack of friends and headed straight for me. He looked spectacular in his musketeer costume, complete with cape and feathered cap.
He smiled that sort of charming smile that felt practiced. Gah! I bet he used it on all the ladies. “Daisy, how do you do?”
I giggled at his attempt at a posh British accent.
He took my hand and stared into my eyes. Oh, Lord! Did that really work on women? The heat flushing my cheeks probably made my freckles pop right out of my heavy makeup.
“You look fucking sexy.” He drew out the word sexy and followed it up with some weird teeth snapping that I assume he thought was sexy. Men were so weird. I didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or crawl beneath the tablecloth.
His gaze swooped down to my bulging cleavage and lingered. “Maybe later, you and I can . . .” He finished the sentence with a wiggle of both his eyebrows and his hips.
What the? I blinked at him like he was a pimply teenager who’d just told me about his wet dream. The tablecloth was looking more promising. Maybe my dash beneath it would go unnoticed.
“ Bene ciao, bella . Who do we have here?”
I spun to the voice. “Roman. Hey. Hi.” Relief rushed through me.
Mike released my hand and winked. “I’ll catch up with you later.” With a swish of his cape, he trotted away.
Roman’s eyes drilled into me, and I turned to face him. Despite the intricately decorated mask across his eyes, his cherry popsicle lips revealed his identity. His honey eyes were like a hot tongue as they traveled over my abundantly exposed cleavage.
Holy smokes.
Unlike my reaction to Mike, rather than being embarrassed by his ogling, a shimmer of deliciousness shivered through me.
My raging horny bits are my enemy.
Roman’s tall, dark, and handsome image shot to yet another level with his masquerade mask and slicked-back hair. “You look ravishing.”
“Thank you. You look amazing yourself.” I curled my bottom lip between my teeth.
“ Grazie . This is a new look for you. I like it.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
A bunch of butterflies took flight in my stomach. Jaysus . . . calm down, Daisy.
“Shall we?” Roman bent his elbow like Oscar had done at the casino, and I glided my hand in. Side by side, we made our way around the room to greet our guests. We admired outfits, made chitchat, and laughed a lot. It was the most fun I’d had in ages.
Except, of course, for my sexy times with Pierre, Luca, and Oscar. Wow . Three men. How did that even happen?
Who cares!
After another ringing bell, Roman helped me usher everyone to take a seat. Unlike at the restaurant in Lyon, the men and women were no longer segregated. Roman and I sat together at one end and our vantage point allowed us to view along the long table. I looked at everyone’s smiling faces. Why had I stopped coming to this night?
The answer was easy. I’d been too busy feeling sorry for myself.
It was time to make up for lost ground. I reached for the champagne in the polished silver ice bucket and handed it to Roman. “Would you care to do the honors?”
Clutching the bottle, he flashed a sexy smile. “ Sicuramente, signora. ” He rarely spoke in his native tongue, and it was always a bit of a surprise when he did speak Italian. Maybe I should get him to teach me a phrase or two. After all, learning a language was one of the things I’d planned to do before I left Europe.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Roman unraveled the silver foil and wriggled the cork free. With a loud pop, the cork shot halfway down the table, narrowly missing all the glasses and Tiffany’s head. “Whoops, sorry.” His eyes bulged as he waved an apology.
“Bloody hell.” I giggled. “Lucky you didn’t take out the candelabra.”
“I know.” We laughed together as he filled both our champagne flutes to the top.
Dinner was served like clockwork and although it wasn’t one of the most amazing meals on the tour, the evening was exceptional in many other ways. Roman and I chatted non-stop about everything from our surroundings to his sisters to our favorite movies. The Holiday for him. That was a surprise. But apparently, he loved the idea of swapping homes with someone, and he was also a huge fan of Cameron Diaz. My choice was anything from the Die Hard series. There was nothing like a good action movie to escape from the real world, especially one that didn’t have any pathetic romance in it.
Roman was so easy to talk to. It was like we’d known each other for years, not weeks.
The night rolled on. Our guests got louder. The drinks flowed. And I consumed more champagne in three hours than I should have.
A ringing bell announced both midnight and that table service was over. Everyone seemed to stand at once, and the ensuing flourish of goodbyes and air-kisses made it impossible to keep track of who left and how many stayed.
Within minutes, the American boys along with four single ladies were all that remained. The boisterous bunch grouped at the opposite end of the table, as if trying to get as far away from Roman and me as possible.
I raised my glass, ready to toast. “Well, here’s to you, Roman.” My lips felt pudgy.
“What for?”
“For telling me to make the most of my last six months in Europe, silly.”
“What do you mean, your last six months?”
“Oh.” I scrunched up my face. “Didn’t I tell you? My visa expires in January, and Vacation Dreamz isn’t extending my work contract.” I huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “So,” I tapped my finger to the end of his perfect nose, “I can’t stay here anymore.”
He blinked at me. His eyes darkened. “Are you serious? ”
“Yep. Sure am.” I held up my glass again, and he hesitated before chinking his flute to mine.
“Why are they not helping?”
I pulled a sad face. “I’m too old.”
He scrunched up his eyes like he didn’t believe me.
I scrunched up my face too, although I was pretty sure it wasn’t anywhere near as charming as when he did it. “It’s true. I’d show you the letter, but I left it at Pierre’s.”
He frowned.
“You know . . . that guy I kissed in Paris.”
“Oh, when you tore your clothes off in front of those people.”
I played with the lace at the front of my bodice. “We did more than that, you know?”
“ Si , you told me.”
“We kissed.”
A tiny smile curled on his lips, and it was the cutest thing in the whole wide world. “So you said.”
“Pierre is so nice.”
“You said that too.”
“It’s true.” I smacked my lips together and went to drink more champagne, but Roman halted the glass before it met my lips. “Hey.”
“I think it’s time I took you to bed.”
“Oh, goodie.”
He chuckled. “To sleep.”
“Oh, pooey.”
Laughing, he glided his fingers beneath my arm and helped me to stand. I leaned into him, and the scent of his sexy cologne had me inhaling all that gloriousness until I was a tad giddy.
Roman glanced down at me and chuckled.
“What?” I giggled up at him. He was so tall.
Ignoring me, he waved at the group still seated at the opposite end of the room. “ Buona notte , everyone. We will see you in the morning.”
They collectively waved and said goodnight.
Somewhere in the back of my brain it registered that I should remind them of our nine-thirty departure time tomorrow, but that thought was whisked away when Roman placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the door.
I eased in closer to him. “I had fun tonight.”
“I can tell.”
“No, I mean, real fun. I don’t know why I stopped coming to these things. Oh, wait—yes I do. I was dying on the inside.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and hugged me to his side.
Hmmm . Was it to keep me upright? Or did he want a cuddle?
“Daisy, I apologized for that. I didn’t mean it.”
“No need to say sorry.” I shook my head, and my eyes took a little moment to keep up. “I’m not dying anymore. I’ve never felt so alive.” I wriggled from his embrace, spread my arms wide, and spun in a circle. “I am alive,” I screamed the words at the top of my lungs. My knees buckled and I stumbled sideways. “Whoopsie.”
Roman grabbed my shoulders before I face-planted. My hero.
He hugged my waist again, pulling me to his side. “Come on, let’s get you to bed before you pass out.”
I never knew spiral stairs could be so much fun. Laughing with hysterics, we bounced off walls and made nearly as many steps down as we did up. I giggled so much I could barely breathe by the time we arrived on the third floor.
At the door to my room, Roman demonstrated some cool contortionist moves as he simultaneously juggled holding me upright and fumbling with the key .
We tumbled into my room together, crossing the space in a flurry of arms and legs. Giggling like a giddy schoolgirl, I flopped onto the bed, dragging Roman half on top of me.
My corset didn’t handle the acrobatics, and my right boob flopped out over the top of the red satin. Half giggling, half gasping, I shoved the stupid flesh away.
If Roman noticed, he gave no indication.
He pushed up from the bed. “ Buona notte , Daisy. Sleep well.”
“Awww, don’t go.” I gave him my best sad face.
“It’s time for you to sleep.”
I tried to sit but the restrictive corset made it impossible. “Wait. Wait,” I blurted before he got too far away. “Can you help me out of this thing?”
He turned with a curious expression. Half smirk, half scowl.
I was in trouble if he didn’t help. “Pleeeeaaase. I’m stuck.” I wobbled from side to side for emphasis.
Chuckling, he offered his hand and launched me to my feet. “Turn around.”
I did as he instructed and stared at the whitewashed brick walls while Roman worked in silence. Each whisper of his breath tickled my neck. The brush of his fingers on my bare flesh was like molten honey, warm and soft. If I was a cat, I’d have started purring. Maybe I’ll start purring anyway.
As the bodice eased open, the fabric fell away from my breasts. Rather than hold it in place, I allowed it to fall. With the final loop undone, the top half of the satin fell off my shoulders and caught at my waist.
I was half-naked.
I didn’t think.
I didn’t breathe.
With my breath trapped in my throat, I spun around to Roman. My nipples were rock-hard pebbles as I stepped forward, pressed them to his chest, and wrapped my arms around him. His body was warm, on fire. I gazed up into his honey pools and pouted my lips. “Kiss me.”
Cocking his head sideways with a weird smirk, he unhooked my arms and stepped back. “Daisy . . . you are drunk. I’m sorry, but I cannot do this.” His shoulders rose with a deep breath like he was preparing to dash for the door. His eyes didn’t wander down to my chest. No, no, no. They remained steady with mine.
His twisted expression confirmed he was horrified by my request.
The erotic fog muddling my brain evaporated in a flash. Clarity hit me with a bitch slap. “Oh, shit.” I tried to cover my breasts with my hands. “Sorry. Sorry. I ummm . . . I . . .”
“It’s okay. Okay. Goodnight.” Roman spun on his heel, opened my door, and paused with his back to me. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He stepped from my room and closed the door behind him.
I flopped back onto the bed and as the room spun in wobbly loops, the enormity of my stupidity hit me like a loaded cannonball.
I’ll never be able to look at Roman again.