As we passed a large portrait of several faces, I realized it had to be of the Badd family. I could spot Kain’s glittering grin from a mile away. There was Francesca standing beside him, and nearby, a large, hulking man I assumed was their father. And unless I was seeing things . . . was that two other brothers?
It must have been a recent portrait; Kain looked similar to how he did now. I didn’t have time to study the painting closer because Fran was yanking me over the steps with increasing excitement. At the top of the stairs, she pulled me down a hall and threw a door open. “Here we are!” The bedroom inside was some horrific dream of golden glitter and pink crystal. A unicorn wouldn’t have been comfortable in there. “Isn’t it to die for? Now, let’s see that dress!”
I unfurled it from the plastic dramatically. Clasping her cheeks, she squealed appropriately. Before I could ask her to undress, she was stripping down to her underwear. Francesca wasn’t the shy sort.
On her ribs, just under her right arm, there was a small tattoo of a black-and-red crown. It was the only ink on her body. Resisting my urge to ask her about it, I guided the dress up her hips. “Once I have you in,” I said, “I’ll have to fix any spots that seem loose. I did my best to use the measurements I took from you at the store, but . . .”
To my sincere amazement and delight, the dress clasped around her, snug.
She stepped back, posing in front of her giant floor-length mirror. “Oh. Em. Gee. Sammy, it fits perfectly!”
I couldn’t control my smile. “I mean, I’d have liked to adjust the length a bit more, and the hem isn’t as even as I prefer . . .”
Her pursed lips shut me up. She lifted her hair off of her neck and admired the low-cut back. “I love it. I can’t wait till Midas sees me in it.”
“Midas?”
Francesca was oblivious to my reaction. “Midas Tengelico, the sexiest man in the world.”
A funny thought wriggled through my brain. I couldn’t catch the tail of it before it got too far. I bet Kain is sexier. Sitting up straighter, I fidgeted. Where the hell did that come from?
I knew the source; barely fifteen minutes ago, he’d spun himself around me like silk. His smell, his heat, his firm muscles . . . everything about him had sunk into my memory. Think about something else! But what could possibly take my focus away from Kain? Actually . . . I do have one nagging thought.
Taking a look at Fran in her dress with a pair of new eyes, I asked the question that had been chewing at me. “Hey, sorry if this is too forward, but how do you earn your money?”
“Why?” she asked, looking awfully offended. “What have you heard? Did some stupid girl say something about what I’ll do for the right amount, because I swear, it was just a rumor and—”
“No, no.” Laughing, I pointed around her bedroom. “This place is a mansion. How does your family afford it?”
Understanding flashed through her eyes, replaced by sharp suspicion. “Oh, that.” Gathering herself, she spoke with flat, indifferent ease—like she’d had to say this a million times. “My family runs a super successful maid service company, Badd Maids. It’s where all of our money comes from. All of it.”
“Badd Maids,” I said.
She stared me down. “Yup.”
There was no way I believed her. But on some level, I wanted to. I liked Francesca; I didn’t want to slow down enough to consider that she might be involved in something less savory than the obvious lie she’d spit at me. But really, a cleaning service? That’s what had paid for all of this?
As if talking would erase my nervous thoughts, I focused on Francesca. “All right, I get it. If you don’t want any tweaks to the dress, I guess I’m done here.”
“What, you’re leaving?” Pouting, she grabbed her hips. “Stay for the dinner party! The food will be great, the music . . . the drinks! You can’t go yet, Sammy!”
“I didn’t get much sleep.” An understatement. “And I don’t know your family well. I should go.”
Could she pout more? How was she doing that? “Fine,” she sighed. Eyeing her reflection, she twisted, rubbing the corset. “Can you get me out of this?”
With agile precision, I unstrung the ribbons and set her free. Then, with some pointless chit-chat and good-byes, I hurried out into the hallway. The soft rugs chewed at my flats as I power walked. Francesca was sweet to invite me to the party, but I had other priorities.
Things like . . . getting as far away from Kain Badd as possible.
I couldn’t pin down why he made me so nervous. Something about his energy threw me off; it made my mouth tingle and my tongue buttery. The sooner I get to my car, the sooner I don’t have to worry about him.
That was all well and good.
Except . . . I couldn’t find my car. I couldn’t even find the way I’d come inside! In my haste, I’d gotten turned around in the cavernous mansion. Perspiration pooled inside the dip in my throat, growing by the minute.
Every corner looked like the last. Each hall was a mirror of another. Had I seen that painting before? Was that gray swirl in the floor new?
Rounding into a passage with large windows, I spotted rich green grass, tall hedges outside.
And a door.
Yanking at it in relief, I threw myself out into the air. The midday sun was beating down, the sky empty of clouds. Shielding my eyes and wishing for my sunglasses, I studied where I was.
The back of the house?
All around me was a large field, the ground beaten by traffic in some spots. The scent of hay hit me before I saw the stables. With adrenaline flooding my veins, I looked on as a young woman guided a chestnut mare into a stall.
The Badds really did have horses. I hadn’t imagined the stables when I’d driven up.
Eyeing the large backyard, I noticed the curling tendrils of rosebushes to my right. That had to lead back to where my car was, I was sure I’d seen the garden from there.
But I don’t want to get lost again.
Debating with myself, I gave in to my secret desire. I loved horses, I’d ridden them when I was a child. I’d had to stop riding once I hit fourth grade; my father blamed it on money being tight.
Approaching the stable, I slid my palm over the smooth grain of the support beams. The rich scent of animals and nature made me dizzy. “Excuse me?” I called.
Instead of a face, big, bouncy curls of black hair poked around the corner. I saw the person they were attached to a second later. She peered at me from around the mare, and though her eyes were confused, her smile was friendly; it showed off her freckles. Was she my age? She felt . . . younger. “Hey there!” she chirped. “What can I do for you?”
My stare was fixated on the horse. Its giant eyes, so wet and honest, studied me. Every fiber in me wanted to pet its velvet nose. I held back. “My name’s Sammy. I’m . . . well, how do I explain. I was here—”
“Oh! The wedding dress maker!” Laughing, she rubbed the horse’s flank. “Frannie would not shut up about you and that gown.”
“Right. I finished up with her, and now I’m kind of turned around.”