Page 84 of Heir of the Beast

“Pierce says he has a stunning riding habit he has constructed for you.” She swallows painfully. “I helped with the hat.”

“Awesome,” I say, and nod to her pastry. “Drink something, you look like you’re going to choke.”

“Yeah, these are a little dry.” Mort’s plain features contort into something thoughtful. “I was sure these were the fresh ones, but now that I think about it, I might have grabbed this off the throw-away tray.

“Destiny usually perfects these things. The cake she made the other day was out of this world.” She shrugs and takes the last bite, looking like a squirrel. “Okay, you know the drill. Spin.”

I am excited. It’s like a fantasy dress-up game to seduce an insanely hot prince. Only this is real life and there is no guarantee that the prince will love me in the end.

There is no assurance that everything will work itself out like a romantic movie. But like most girls, I want my fairy tale ending, and I’m willing to go out of my comfort zone to do it.

I spin and feel that familiar tingle coursing through my body—the excitement.

Mort had a lot of fabric delivered to her quarters. Questions were being asked about the stunning dresses that she was seemingly making. So she had to make it believable, saying she exclusively designed for me.

I’m sure Apollo will be looking into anything concerning me, trying to find a rip in my perfect storyline.

I glance in the body-length mirror and suck in a breath. I could probably do this every second and always be shocked like this. Pierce is a master at what he does, plain and simple.

I stand in the most beautiful, form-fitting riding attire I have ever seen.

My tailored coat is the color of smooth cream in a shiny fabric, almost like silk but durable. My long skirts are also a glistening cream, elegant and exquisite.

But what brings a splash of romance is the accents of bright red lace. The two together make a stunning couple, one bringing out the other.

My red lace gloves are to die for, and my deep scarlet corset under my riding coat will have Apollo’s head spinning.

I grin.

My shadowed eyes seemed to glow under the wide brim of the blood-red hat with a large cream bow tilted to the side impeccably. ~My, my.~ I look like Madam Viola, Sin City mob wife.

“I would have never picked these colors out myself,” I say.

Mort nods and stands next to me. “If you let Pierce do his thing, you will be the belle of the ball.

“From what I hear, Laura instructs Pierce on what to make. I’m not surprised,” she continues with a pointed look. “You cannot tell an artist what to do, they do not thrive in boxes.”

“Did you just make that up?”

“Yes.” She glances at me. “It sounded better in my head.”

I nod.

A knock at the door makes me tense. Mort runs over and opens the large double doors to find a letter addressed to me. The footman hands it to Mort.

I try to snatch it out of her hands, but she darts out of the way, opening it. “Mort! Bad Mort!”

“It’s a letter from Tarren saying you all are double dating with Apollo and Laura,” she gets out before I snatch the letter.

“Double date? Perfect!” I laugh and high-five Mort. “What is Laura wearing?”

Mort rolled her eyes. “I saw it—it’s not as good as yours! She made Pierce make her a baby-blue and pink riding habit. Looks pretty, but almost overkill. Yours is sexy, hers is pretty.”

“You think that’s what she is trying to go for? Respectable? Not slutty?” I ask. Mine is not slutty, but I will say it will get the blood pumping.

Mort laughs. “Since when did plain pretty ever get the guy? I think you will have every man from a hundred-mile radius trying to get your attention.

“Laura is not playing her cards right. We don’t have a year to win him over but a month!”

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