My hair was loose. Washed with coconut and kaduka plum, rinsed in icy water to bring ethereal shine to each and every strand. Sepia and bronze, mahogany and henna, the length and glossiness hung in a heavy veil down my back. Frangipani flowers decorated the length, randomly placed so I looked as if I’d been birthed by the very island that Sully adored.
My paleness had been hidden with finely applied make-up. I’d never been talented with a brush or pigments before, but I’d kept washing and reapplying until I’d achieved an otherworldly look.
Dewy lips, smoky eyes, harsh cheekbones, and perfect glowing skin, even my breasts had been amplified—a lash of bronzer down my cleavage to highlight their fullness.
But it was the dress that turned me from normal to extraordinary.
A gown I’d found in the wardrobe, tucked in a zipped bag in the shadows.
Champagne glitter and fawn crystal.
Straps kissed my shoulders, breaking into a V down my chest to swoop low between my breasts. Intricate panels of jewels hugged my belly and hips, before hanging heavy and full of glamour to the floor. It moulded to me like a second skin, granting the illusion that my own flesh had been inlaid with caramel gemstones and flawless diamonds.
I’d never worn something so glitzy, nor felt quite so unlike myself.
Nine fifty a.m.
Ten minutes before I would come face to face with Sullivan Sinclair.
Ten minutes before I strode into battle wearing an amour destined to break thy enemy.
This dress wasn’t for Roy Slater.
This masquerade wasn’t for Sully Sinclair.
The glowing goddess who stared back in the mirror was for me.
My parting gift to men who thought I could be demeaned with a price tag.
If Roy wanted to buy me and Sully wanted to sell me…then so be it.
But I would make both men see just how much I was worth.
I would make them understand that money was worthless.
That I was priceless.
That this whole sick charade was over.
Chapter Thirty-Three
NINE FIFTY-NINE A.M.
She’s late—
Calvin’s grunt ripped my head up from studying my watch. Roy Slater practically fell off my couch. And I—
I fucking ripped out my pumping, spurting heart and laid it bloody and warm at the feet of the most stunning creature I’d ever seen.
My body malfunctioned.
My cock hardened to stone; my pulse went haywire; my eyes couldn’t drink her in fast enough.
Fucking
wow…
Eleanor strode from my garden, past the mermaid fountain and bird table where local sparrows ate their fill, and padded barefoot into my office. Her dress trailed after her, gracing a trail of golden sand as if she’d been summoned from the very sea I idolized.
Skittles sat on her shoulder, making Eleanor more than woman but a nymph who could talk to feathered and furred alike. The gauzy curtains swayed around her with a non-existent breeze, afraid to touch her, swirling like entities drunk on her power.
My fingers dug into my desk as I struggled to breathe. Her hair. Her eyes. Her body.
Fuck
me.
I wanted to snatch her, savage her. I wanted to rip her from the heavens and bring her firmly into my hell.
Every time she breathed, her body glittered in jewels, refracting around my villa, blinding me to anything else.
I couldn’t goddamn move.
I’d seen the by-product of men meeting my goddesses for the first time. Some lost their minds. Literally lost their fucking minds. They lost language ability, motor skills, and stood there as blank as if they’d been hypnotised by the most powerful witch.
I’d always pitied such fools, proud I’d never been so weak.
But now…now I was that motherfucking fool.
Who was I?
What was going on?
But most importantly, who the hell was she?
I wanted her more than I could breathe. I wanted her so much my stomach ached, and my chest burned, and my cock throbbed with agony.
I needed her to give me back my soul—to kiss words back into my mouth, to rake her hands through my hair and gift me back my mind. If she could give me back my manhood, then she could take my heart.
Fuck, she’d already taken it.
It was right there, slowly pumping and gasping on the floor by her flawless feet.
Calvin was the first of us to recover. “Jinx…good job. You’re on time.” He cleared his throat, his voice thick with desire.
My vision went red.
How dare he desire her? How dare he look at her? How dare anyone see just how fucking resplendent this woman was?
I shot from my seat, blinking back stars, unable to tear my gaze from the immortal queen who’d entered my office.