His Hope [Zayn][Completed]

Prologue

"What are you talking about?"

She heard Zayn whisper to Sammy.

A tremor ran through her limbs when he appeared in the doorway. She was motionless, her breathing becoming shallow, her heartbeat rapid and erratic.  He didn't recognize her at all. Her heart lurched.  Her legs went weak and her body turned to rubber at his piercing stare.  Hope was unable to move a muscle as she stared right back. 

Even if she tried moving, she would fall flat on her face with the killer heels Sammy insisted she practice in.  They might very well be the death of her before she would be able to flee the country. 

"Isn't it surprising what money can do?" Sammy responded, the corner of his lips twitching.

Zayn frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"  He asked again.  "Who's the girl? Where's Hope–"

Zayn did a double take as the shock woke him to his core of the image of her.  He was staring right at her. This woman, a newly transformed Hope stood before him looking ravishing, alluringly sexy and sophisticated in her new look. He could barely believe his eyes. Never thinking it was possible to change so much, Hope looked like a new woman with her blonde hair, new clothes and make-up.

"Took you long enough!"  Sammy exclaimed. 

"Damn." Zayn whispered.

"Damn. That's all you could come up with? Damn?" Sammy said in exasperation, stomping his foot. "Look at this creation!  She's gorgeous! Sinfully Hot! Sexy as fuck!  All thanks to moi."  Pointing at himself, having the need to include himself.

Zayn barely paid him any attention. 

Zayn and Hope stared at each other.

Zayn still in shock.

Hope, a nervousness mess.

Wow, he thought. 

"You–" his voice was tight searching for the right word's. "You look exquisite."

Hope cheeks flushed a rosy pink.  She smiled bashfully and ducked her head.

"Uh-uh.  Hold your head up high like the gorgeous creature you are Hope!" Sammy reminded her. 

Hope automatically straighten her posture with head held high as instructed. 

"That a girl."  Sammy murmured, pleased. 

Zayn's gaze traveled down the length of her body.  Scorching over the fitted dress, lingering on her black stocking legs . . .shoes.

His mouth watered.

The one thing he could never resist. . .

Stilettos. Especially red bottoms. His favorites.

They screamed sex.

And she had the perfect legs to make the heels look sexier than they already were.

God. He felt his blood pressure rise, never expecting to be shocked or thrown off balance.

He blinked, snapping out of the brief trance. 

Zayn knew it was buried beneath all the neglect.

She was a magnificent beauty.  She was gorgeous. The most naturally beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, if he was honest with himself. And what was more attractive is she didn't even know it. She didn't even try to exaggerate it. She didn't even try to use her new found look–still shy as a dove.

However, he never envisioned to see such a remarkable transformation. And he could not deny the heat rising down the back of his neck and resumed staring.  His gaze traveled deliberately from her shoes and scanned her entire body once more.