“You’re not going to join me?”
He shook his head. “There are a few details I need to take care of.”
She couldn’t help but pout. “Fine.”
Getting to her feet, she drifted into the bathroom. She slipped out of her yellow sundress and hung it on the hook behind the door, then stepped into the black-tiled shower stall next to the marble bathtub. As the warm water sluiced over her sun-kissed body, she lathered lavender body wash on her skin, which was still slick and smooth from the pounds of tanning lotion she’d rubbed on it.
She hadn’t felt this relaxed in years. Actually, she hadn’t felt this relaxed ever, seeing as her life was a big ball of stress that revolved around work and school. Relaxation had never been part of the equation.
Don’t forget that.
Her hand trembled as she flipped open the lid of the shampoo bottle and squirted a glop in her palm. That cynical little voice in her head was right. Enjoying her time at the resort, her time with Ben, was one thing, but she couldn’t forget where she came from. What she’d be going back to when this trip ended.
Her schedule, not to mention her finances, didn’t allow for impromptu island getaways and sweaty sex with celebrities. It was easy to lose herself in these luxurious surroundings, but luxury wasn’t something she could count on.
What happened if she lost her job or failed her exams? Ben had his big pile of money to cushion his fall, but what did she have?
Herself. No family, no roots, no security blankets. She had only herself, and she needed to remember that before she got caught up in all this glitz and glamour.
Before she started to believe that a girl like her might actually belong in Ben Barrett’s life.
“Mimi is here to do your hair and makeup.”
Maggie moved her gaze from her newly polished fingernails and fought back a yawn. “Is he trying to kill me?”
Denise, the petite blonde who’d been shuffling Maggie around the spa for the past couple of hours, gave a rueful smile. “Wow, you really are one of those women who can’t handle being pampered,” she remarked with a teasing lilt to her voice.
“So that’s what you call being poked and prodded for two hours? Pampered?”
Denise wagged her finger. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. I saw your face during that mud bath. You enjoyed it.” She took a step back. “I’ll send Mimi in.”
Maggie waited for Denise to leave the spa’s sitting room before releasing a sigh of contentment. Fine, so she’d enjoyed the mud bath. And the massage from Paulo the Latin heartthrob. Maybe even the manicure and pedicure.
Okay, she’d enjoyed it all.
When Ben had dropped her off at the spa, she’d ordered herself to have a bad time. To hate every second of the spa experience and laugh in the face of luxury. But she’d failed. She felt like Cinder-freaking-ella, and God help her, but she’d wholeheartedly relished every tranquil, self-indulgent moment.
“I’m here to do your hair.” A willowy brunette with a stunning olive complexion strode into the room carrying a large silver case in one hand.
“Why exactly am I getting my hair done again?”
Mimi shrugged. “Afraid I don’t know. Mr. Barrett never said.”
“Of course he didn’t.”
Maggie settled back in the plush leather chair and decided there was no point questioning Ben’s motives. She didn’t voice one complaint, not even when Mimi nearly scalped her trying to twist her unruly hair into a French twist. Didn’t flinch either, when the woman went at her eyebrows with a pair of mean-looking tweezers.
An hour later, Mimi finished styling her hair and applying her makeup, but just when Maggie got to her feet thinking they were done, the woman held up her hand.
“One more thing.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, the one part of her face she could touch without ruining her makeup. “I’ve been in this spa for three hours, what more can he want to do to me?”
Mimi smiled, left the room, and quickly returned with a garment bag and a shoebox. “He wants you to get dressed.”
She would’ve made another sarcastic comment if it weren’t for the spectacular item of clothing the hairstylist removed from the bag. Maggie took a breath, eyes wide as she stared at the slinky, emerald-green dress. It was gorgeous, more gorgeous than anything she owned. Or had ever owned.
“Versace’s fall line,” Mimi supplied, seeing the wonder in her eyes. “Hasn’t even hit the racks yet.” She draped the dress over the back of the chair. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
The second the door closed, Maggie wasted no time pulling off her jeans. Getting her tank top off without ruining her new updo and impeccable makeup proved to be a challenge, but she managed. She carefully wiggled into the Versace masterpiece, and then spun around to examine her reflection in the full-length mirror across the sitting room.
Wow.