Page 95 of Sinful Escape

“Oh . . . ummm . . .” I turned to the sixteenth-century Venetian noble replica gown. The tiny waist was created by the drawstring bodice. It didn’t take much brainpower to know I had no hope of fitting into that outfit without help. “Okay, thank you.”

“Right. Get your clothes off then.” Nina tapped my shoulder, then headed toward the dress.

I’d never undressed in front of a woman before. Even my mother hadn’t seen me naked since I was about ten.

I had to get this over with before the blaze of embarrassment creeping up from my chest melted off my lovely new makeup. I tugged off my jeans and blouse and folded them onto the chair.

Nina turned to me, and I felt decidedly naked as she scanned her eyes up my body. “You’ll need to take your bra off for this one, dear.”

“Oh.” God, I hope she’s right about this dress, or my tits are going to be scraping across the stone-cold floor in no time. Reaching behind my back to undo the clips, the blaze racing up my neck hit inferno mode.

Thankfully Nina didn’t seem to notice my nakedness. At least, if she did, she didn’t make a big deal about it. She held the dress open, positioned so the front of the dress faced her.

I stepped forward, and once I was standing in the abundant skirts, she eased the fabric up over my hips and helped me feed my arms into the puffy sleeves.

“Put your breasts into position, dear.”

“Oh.” I wanted to dive into the abundant satin and disappear.

Nina moved around behind me and began tugging on the lace to draw the bodice in.

I hoisted my breasts up, manipulating them into the dress. Each time she tugged on the lace, my waist grew narrower, and my breasts plumped up higher. If she wasn’t careful, I’d suffocate in my own flesh.

Nina tied off the lace and tapped my waist to indicate she was done.

I turned to the mirror and my breath caught. In the space of twenty minutes, I’d become a princess. My jaw dropped as I studied my own reflection.

Nina’s smile replicated my sentiments. She’d performed a miracle. I was certainly getting my share of them this month.

I pulled her to my chest for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Any time, dear. You look beautiful.”

I felt beautiful. I couldn’t wait to see Roman’s reaction.

My brain skidded to a halt. Why was his reaction important? I didn’t even want to ponder that question.

I dashed to my room, dumped my clothes, locked my door, and headed toward the grand hall. With fistfuls of fabric in my hands, I raised my abundant skirts to descend the stairs.

Sounds of laughter, music, and crockery bounced around the stone walls as I made my way along the narrow corridor.

I entered the grand hall and scanned the room. Nearly everyone had dressed up. There were always a couple who didn’t. For nine months, dressing up had been what’d stopped me from coming . . . I simply couldn’t be bothered. But with the way I felt right now, beautiful, and dare I say it, sexy, I vowed never to be in that minority again.

Most guests were wearing masquerade masks, and as I scanned the men, I realized there was only one man I was searching for . . . Roman.

The guests milled around the long table centered in the grand room. It was spectacularly decorated with giant wrought-iron candelabras topped with lit candles, gold-trimmed crockery, and shiny cutlery. Along one long wall were antique furnishings that included a statue of an oversized man wearing full body armor. The opposite wall had floor-to-ceiling eighteenth-century stained-glass windows that depicted four significant events in the castle’s history.

Some guests admired the decorations, but most were scrutinizing and laughing at each other’s costumes. There were outfits from Henry the Eighth through to swashbuckling musketeers. The women were in fine ball gowns of all colors, and bulging breasts were the prominent feature, including mine, but rather than being embarrassed by them, for once it felt rather titillating to have them on display.

The room brimmed with life, and the anticipation of a great evening ahead had my heart skipping. I wanted to slap myself for missing this event on my last nine visits here.

I truly had let myself die on the inside.

Not anymore. Nope. This girl is gonna partay!

Across the crowd, I spied Mike. Our eyes locked and to my surprise, he broke from his pack of friends and headed straight for me. He looked spectacular in his musketeer costume, complete with cape and feathered cap.

He smiled that sort of charming smile that felt practiced. Gah! I bet he used it on all the ladies. “Daisy, how do you do?”

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