Gentlemen Prefer Nerds (14 page)

The manicure nymph shook her head and picked out a deep crimson polish labeled Red Devil. “You’ll look so hot in this.”

Maddie had never looked hot in her life but, by God, she was ready to try it. With her fingernails and toenails shaped and polished in a seductive red she was actually starting to feel like a different person.

Next Amanda led her to the hair salon where Timone was waiting to work his—or her?—magic on Maddie. Whether the androgynous wraith was male or female was beside the point; Maddie had no say in the outcome. Her entreaties for “just a trim” were ignored and the mirror covered with a cloth. Timone was acting under strict instructions. She—or he—applied highlights and lowlights and an all-over color that obliterated Maddie’s natural dark brown. Then he—or she—snipped and shaped Maddie’s amorphous mass of hair into a lighter, bouncier style. As the blow wave proceeded, Maddie’s excitement grew. She vaguely thought of herself as having a look, sort of hipster-meets-geek, but she didn’t often experiment on a grand scale. Touching her hair, she marveled at how smooth and soft it felt. Finally Timone whipped away the cloth over the mirror and Maddie got her first glimpse of the new her.

She gaped at her reflection, shocked into silence.

She was a redhead.

“Don’t you like it?” Timone pouted, moving strands of hair around, tweaking and fluffing.

Maddie gulped, overcome. The rich flame-red hair streaked with auburn and gold brought out the warmth in her skin. The sculpted cut accentuated the slight tilt to her eyes and the slant of her cheekbones. The way her hair tapered at the bottom showed off a slender graceful neck. She was beautiful. And glamorous. And—hot.

“I love it! Oh, I really do. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, stop it, girl, don’t cry!” Timone batted at her shoulder, pleased with such an emotional reaction. “Now perk up. Amanda’s going to do your makeup.”

Lost in a dreamy haze of feminine well-being, Maddie was barely conscious of Amanda’s ministrations. There was a light foundation, eyeliner, shadow and natural lip gloss. A faint blush across the cheeks. Possibly other things as well. When she was finished, Amanda handed her a pot of what appeared to be gold dust. “Brush a little of that on before you go out at night. Try this deep red lipstick too. It’ll match your nails.”

“Thank you.” Maddie was still mesmerized by her appearance. “I hope I don’t smudge anything.”

“You can always repair the makeup if it gets wrecked,” Amanda said, smiling. “Would you like me to pack up all the products we’ve used?”

“Yes, please.” She was in awe of Amanda. Amanda was a goddess.

“Now come with me.” Amanda led her to the change room.

A new dress hung there, a sleeveless ivory sheath with a deep V-neck that was both elegant and sexy. Discreetly folded next to it were a new lace bra and panties, and in a box on the floor, a pair of high heels. Maddie picked up the lingerie, careful not to pull a thread with her nails. The garments were ultraexpensive, like nothing she’d ever worn before. The dress was pure Grace but more youthful. The shoes were Italian. “Where did these come from?”

“Your husband brought them by while you were having your facial,” Amanda said. “Very nice.”

“I hope they fit,” Maddie murmured. She went behind a screen to change.

“Doesn’t he know your size?” Amanda asked. “Oh, I forgot, you’re so recently married. Probably not.”

“He doesn’t even know my birthday.” She dropped her robe and put on the silky bra and panties. The lingerie fit perfectly, like a whisper across her skin.

“Ah, but he looks like a man who knows women. Are you doing something special tonight?”

“The Race Week Gala ball.” Maddie shimmied into the dress, smoothing the soft fabric over her hips. She slipped her feet into the shoes. A bit tight but wearable.

“My husband and I are going, too. How did you get tickets? It’s been sold out for months.”

“Fabian’s taking care of that.” At least she hoped so. Fabian was good but was he that good? Maddie hid her worry and came out from behind the screen.

“You look stunning!” Amanda’s flash of surprise was more convincing than flattery. The pager clipped to her belt beeped. “Excuse me, I have to go.” She gathered up the empty hangers and plastic clothing bag and hurried from the room.

Maddie checked herself in the tri-fold mirror. The dress skimmed her hips and breasts with enough cling to show off curves she’d spent a lifetime hiding. Glossy red hair framed her face with a hint of wave that bounced just above her shoulders. She took back all her nasty thoughts about Fabian. Just bringing her here made him officially a genius.

For years she’d been engrossed in her research, choosing comfort and quirkiness over glamour, vaguely expecting that someday the perfect man would come along and adore her for her inner qualities, not what she looked like. That expectation hadn’t changed.

On the other hand, it was fun to try on a new look. She wouldn’t do it to attract Roland, even though that was the whole purpose. Or even to attract Fabian, which she had decidedly mixed feelings about. No, she would do it for herself.

Wouldn’t it be freaky if there really was a glamazon hiding inside her? A woman who wasn’t afraid to reach out and take what she wanted.

A knock came at the door. “Come in.”

Fabian entered carrying a small plastic bag. He wore a shirt of fine white cotton with the sleeves rolled up over his strong forearms. Even without the tie and cuff links he was elegant and masculine. He walked toward her and circled silently, his gaze moving from her hair down her body all the way to the peep-toe sling-backs in black patent leather.

“What do you think?” Maddie waited impatiently for his expressions of amazement and delight. He was probably so overcome by her beauty that he couldn’t speak. Not that she gave a rat’s ass what he thought of her, but just this once she wanted to hear him say how sexy she was, how gorgeous. “Well?”

Fabian had expected an improvement in Maddie’s appearance but he was unprepared for this breathtaking woman who oozed sexuality. For the purposes of seducing Roland, she was perfect. “You’ll do.”

Her hands fisted at her sides. “Is that all you can say after the torture I’ve been through?”

“Torture?” He lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t look as if you’ve been tortured.”

“The second half was okay,” she conceded. “But you could be a little more enthusiastic.”

He opened the bag in his hands and handed her a small plastic container and a bottle of contact lens solution. “Put these in.”

Maddie placed a tinted prescription lens in her palm and squirted solution on it. Then she picked it up with her index finger and brought it toward her eye.

“By the way, have you come across my phone?” Fabian asked.

Her eyelid came down as she tried to place the lens over her iris. Then the lens folded in half. “Damn. No, I haven’t seen your phone.”

“Are you certain?” Hadn’t she learned yet not to lie to him? He’d combed the villa. There was only one place that phone could be. He’d been tempted to call his own number just to hear her try to weasel her way out of what was a clear theft.

“Maybe you left it somewhere.” She tried again with the lens, leaning close to the mirror.

Fabian let it go for now, letting her get the lenses in. It took her a few tries but once she did, the transformation was complete. Her hazel eyes were now a bright lapis blue.

“Who am I?” she whispered to her startled reflection.

Fabian met her gaze in the glass. Despite the makeup and hair color, he could still see the true Maddie looking back at him—smart, feisty, funny. Sexy. How could she not see herself? “There are many sides to all of us. This is just one of yours.”

“No, I’m a nerd.” She nodded at herself in the mirror. “She’s a role I’m playing. I’m not that woman.”

“Would it be so bad if you were? You may enjoy wearing a different mask. It can be liberating.”

“I don’t need liberating, thank you very much. I’m perfectly good as I am. Was. Whatever.”

“You’re right, of course. But you can be this woman, too. You really are lovely.” He ran his gaze over her slowly, stroking up her legs, embracing her hips, slip-sliding around the contours of her waist and lavishly caressing her breasts. She softened visibly, as if he’d physically touched every inch of her.

“Stop that.” Nervously, she pushed at a lock of hair. “Being a sex goddess is scary, like having a superpower I can’t control.”

Fabian wasn’t entirely in control, either. If she was soft, he was hard. He needed to stop undressing her with his eyes. “Time to go shopping.”

* * *

At the exclusive resort boutique the dresses came with designer labels but no price tags. The carpet was thick, the atmosphere hushed but for quiet piano music playing in the background. Behind the desk a sleekly groomed saleswoman watched them over her tiny rectangular black-framed glasses.

“Your instructions are to try on a selection of evening gowns and make a short list for me to review,” Fabian said. “I’m going to the menswear shop. I’ll back in an hour.”

Maddie waited until he was out of sight across the courtyard then ducked next door to a funky little boutique. To the sound of blaring indie rock she reached for a hot pink taffeta tutu. “Instructions, my ass. This is more like it.”

Shopping for clothes was fun when money was no object. She could go wild without guilt because looking fabulous wasn’t about personal vanity. It served a greater good. If you could call getting her butt out of trouble a greater good, which she did. Just this once, she would allow herself to not worry about third world sweatshops.

She was wearing the hot pink skirt, an apple green camisole, black lace stockings and canary yellow kitten heels when Fabian walked in carrying shopping bags.

He shook his head, bemused. “Is it at all possible for you to not look as if your clothes have been picked out of the jumble sale bag by a blind man?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She twirled over to him, noticing that despite his sarcasm he wasn’t taking his eyes off her. “Admit it, you like this outfit.”

“I would sooner die than admit any such thing.”

She moved her shoulders provocatively, poking him in his very flat, very hard stomach. “Come on, Mr. Stuffy Shirt. Don’t you think I’m sexy?”

A tiny corner of his mouth turned up. “Are you done having fun yet? We only have a few hours till the Gala.”

Maddie sighed elaborately. “Do I have to wear boring old Armani?”

His mouth twitched again. “Go get changed and we’ll shop next door for something a bit more classic.”

“You’re such a spoilsport.”

But as she closed the door on the change room she overheard him say to the salesgirl, “Wrap those clothes up and deliver them to our villa, please.”

Yes!
Maddie smiled to herself and pulled the camisole off over her head. So there was a bit of spunk in him after all.

Twenty minutes later she was trying on evening gowns the saleswoman had picked out in her size and brought to the dressing room.
Classic
turned out to be just another word for
conservative
but Maddie had to admit they were stunning, perfectly cut out of the finest fabric. After years of T-shirts, bulky sweaters and shapeless skirts, flaunting herself in figure-hugging garments felt incredibly daring.

“What do you think?” She paraded before Fabian in a gauzy apricot confection such as Gwyneth Paltrow might wear to the Academy Awards. “You may call me Princess Madeline.”

Fabian lounged in a comfy chair with a glass of champagne. He tilted his head as he spun the long-stemmed flute between his fingers. “Too pale for your coloring and too fussy.”

“I wonder if the shop has a black leather gown.” She crouched with her arms outstretched, hands clasped and finger pointed, and mimed shooting him. “It’d go with my new image.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Try the black satin on again. The one with the low neckline. It’s sexier.”

“I don’t know,” she said reluctantly, straightening. “It’s so revealing.”

“That’s rather the point, isn’t it?” He sipped his drink. “The fabric drapes better, and the style shows off your shoulders.”

This wasn’t his first astute observation on her apparel. She was reminded of Amanda’s comment that he was a man who knew women. Maddie caught his eye in the mirror. “How do you know so much about women’s clothes?”

“Maybe I am Carson Kressley. I could host my own TV show.”

The arch way he said it made Maddie spin around. “You’re not gay?”

He rolled his eyes in a heaven-help-me look. “I’m simply observant.”

Of course he wasn’t gay; he oozed masculinity. She was halfway back to the change room when she glanced back to see him pensively examining the bubbles in his glass. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He seemed taken aback. “Not presently.”

She was surprised at her strong surge of relief. Yet she sensed he was concealing something deeper and more important. “Then who was she?”

He went still, his expression wary. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The woman who taught you about women and fashion. Don’t tell me there wasn’t someone. Who was she?”

He shrugged, glanced away.

“Oh, come on, spill.”

“Her name doesn’t matter.” He set his glass aside. “She was older. She taught me many things, not just fashion.”

Intrigued, Maddie walked back across the plush carpet and sat on the ottoman next to his polished leather shoes. “Was she your lover?”

He shook his head with a small smile. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“She was.” Maddie picked up his glass and took a sip, watching him over the rim. “Do you still see her?”

“We’re just friends now.” He sounded regretful. “She’s also my boss.”

“That must be interesting come performance review time.” The woman had to be C. His absence from work could account for her sharp tone. And if she still loved him, hearing another woman answer his phone wouldn’t be pleasant. “How much older is she?”

“We were together five years. When we stopped being intimate she was forty-five to my thirty.”

“Ah.”

Fabian’s eyes narrowed. “What does that ‘ah’ mean?”

“Just that she got older and you stopped being attracted.” Maddie shrugged even though she thought it stunk. “I suppose it’s natural.”

“Ending the affair wasn’t my choice,” Fabian said with an edge to his voice that made Maddie blink. “She thought she was holding me back from marriage and children.” He paused, then added quietly, “She’s as desirable now at fifty as she was at forty.”

“Oh, really?” Maddie asked skeptically. Of course she thought Grace grew more beautiful with each year, but she’d never heard of a man thinking like that. “Fifty? Come on.”

“She has enormous self-confidence, intelligence and a generous spirit,” Fabian went on. “Inner beauty is far more important than superficialities.”

Hello! Maddie had inner beauty. Didn’t anyone notice?

“Mind you,” he continued, “she takes meticulous care of herself—fit, well-groomed and very sexy.”

Sexy, huh? Maddie handed back the glass of wine. “I’ll try the black dress on again.”

* * *

While Fabian was dressing for the Gala, Maddie placed his phone on a side table in the sitting room, tucking it between the arm of the love seat and a basket of shells.

He came out of his room, fastening his cuff links. “Are you almost re—” The words faded as he silently took her in. Seconds ticked by. Finally he cleared his throat. “Roland doesn’t stand a chance.”

Inner beauty, be damned. Maddie craved the heat in Fabian’s eyes. Seeing herself in the mirror in the slinky black dress made her feel incredibly sexy. She’d had no idea a push-up bra could make her breasts look so voluptuous. A beautician from Amanda’s salon had come to the villa to freshen her makeup, giving her an exotic look with huge eyes and a lush scarlet mouth. But it was the luxurious mane of tangled red curls and the bright lapis blue eyes that turned her into a completely different person. Fabian was right. She felt liberated.

He looked utterly gorgeous in a white tuxedo that contrasted sharply with his dark hair and olive skin. Just for a moment Maddie fantasized that they really were on their honeymoon, going out for a romantic evening.

Then she blinked back to reality.

“Hey, look what I found.” She reached down to pick up his phone from behind a table lamp.

“I wonder how that got there?” Eyeing her narrowly, Fabian took it from her.

“I don’t know. Maybe the maid put it there.”

“Maybe. I’m glad it’s turned up.” He reached inside his inner breast pocket for a flat case. “Wear this tonight. It might help you spark a discussion with Roland about jewels.”

Maddie’s breath caught and the phone was forgotten. Dripping from his fingers was a necklace strung with a large blue teardrop sapphire flanked by six white baguette diamonds on each side. “Is this part of the Licciardo collection?”

“No, I borrowed it from a jeweler. Turn around.”

Maddie lifted her mass of red hair so he could place the necklace around her neck. “He let you borrow it?”

“For a hefty fee. If it doesn’t come back in perfect condition he’ll debit my credit card. So try not to let Roland steal it.” Fabian’s fingers brushed her neck as he fastened the clasp, making her skin tingle.

Moving to the mirror, Maddie turned so the light could strike sparks off the diamonds and sapphire. She honestly had no desire to be wealthy for wealth’s sake. The clothes, the resort, the fine restaurants were all very nice but nonessential. However, she would dearly love to own beautiful jewels. “It’s fabulous.”

“Roland is partial to redheads. With that necklace and the way you look, you’ll be irresistible.” Fabian reached for the bottle of white wine and poured two glasses. Handing one to Maddie, he said, “Let’s go over our plan again. We’ll go to the Gala together. Then I’ll slip out to the
Beau Sancy
while you keep him occupied.”

Maddie sank onto the sofa and fingered her necklace, lifting the sapphire so that it sparkled beneath the lamplight. “Who am I that I own such jewels?”

“Good question. Who are you?” Fabian paced in front of her, tapping a finger on the bowl of his wineglass.

“My name is Brittany Montgomery—”

“No,” he said sharply. She blinked. “You can’t use my name this time. He might connect you with the family he stole from last. Anyway, you’ve got to be single.” Frowning, Fabian pondered the problem. “A member of obscure European royalty? No, he’s too familiar with the genuine article. Do you think you could pass yourself off as the daughter of an American oil tycoon?”

“Well, shucks,” Maddie drawled in what she imagined was a Texan accent. “Ah surely can do that there thing. Y’all.”

Fabian winced. “He’d spot that phony accent a mile off. Perhaps you’d better be the recent widow of an elderly mining magnate from Western Australia.”

“Yes, that’s good. Hamilton Island is the first stop on a world tour to overcome my grief. Or should I be celebrating my freedom?” Maddie brushed that aside for the moment. “Whatever. My name is Brittany…Reynolds. I was a lingerie model before I married. Who are you going to be?”

“Roland won’t even see me. I’ll be on the boat searching for the Rose. Once I’ve got it, I’ll come back to the Gala and signal you. You’ll extricate yourself from his company and examine the diamond to make sure it’s the genuine article. Then we’ll head straight for the airport. We’ll be on a plane back to Melbourne before he finds out it’s missing. Simple.”

“Simple, nothing. This plan has more holes than Swiss cheese.” Maddie started to take a drink then set her glass aside. She would need a clear head to navigate the evening. “For a start, what if you can’t find the Rose?”

“Don’t worry about that. There are only so many hiding places on a boat.”

“What if I can’t extricate myself? What if he recognizes me? What if he’s already reset the pendant with another phony diamond?”

What if she had a panic attack and couldn’t go through with any of it?

“The situation isn’t something we can predict in a step-by-step fashion. You’ll have to think on your feet.” From his pocket Fabian brought out a small vial of pills. “If all else fails, one of these sedatives in his wine or coffee will easily knock him out.”