She was in the most exquisite bath she’d ever been in in the entirety of her life. The jets poked and prodded at sore muscles while the hot water seeped into her skin, making her into jelly.
She got out reluctantly and toweled her hair mostly dry. It dried naturally while she readied herself.
A small knock sounded at the door, shocking her into action. She wore only a towel and her hair was dripping slightly onto her shoulders, but she could still kick Variable’s ass.
She opened the door, her face thunderous as she did.
“Oh … “ her voice trailed off.
Instead of finding Variable, there stood a curvy redhead with startled blue eyes.
“I’m Amelia … I’m here to help you get ready.”
Max continued to stare blankly.
“For the dinner?” Amelia said tenderly.
Mental facepalm.
“Oh … of course,” Maverick said.
How could she have forgotten?
Amelia stepped into the room with the two body-bags on hangers, and immediately busied herself.
She regarded the bags with extreme suspicion
“What is that?” Maverick demanded as she pointed to the bag.
Amelia hung them on the closet doors and unzipped them.
Her question answered, Maverick grimaced.
“Son of a –“
“Where is she?” Alain asked in quiet irritation.
Will fought the urge to hit him, as he had been for the past ten minutes. Actually, as he had for the entire day while Alain stared at Max.
His Max.
“We’re ten minutes early, sir. I’m sure she’ll be here at any moment,” Will said.
Around them, every one of the hundred guests milled about and chattered aimlessly.
The dining room, almost as big as the ballroom, glittered in subtle glamor around them. Women dripped with diamonds, men flashed their shiny cufflinks and wealth.
It was all a facade, and he couldn’t stand it.
They stood, partially in the corner, while Alain’s obsessive gaze stayed fixed on the doorway.
Reluctantly, Will joined and watched with him.
After a moment, Reaper came in.
She wore a long dress of shimmering red silk encrusted with some sort of red gem around the bustline, which was … low, to be succinct.
Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and cascaded in curls down her back.
Her face was subtly painted, but her eyes still pierced them as she approached and graciously took Alain's proffered hand.
Alain stepped forward to greet her.
“Reaper, my dear. You look ravishing,” he murmured seductively.
Her bloodred lips curled.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Olivia stepped forward and began to engage Reaper in conversation, slowly drawing her out to join the others in the room.
