Page 48 of Sirens
Vee sipped her tea, considering the question. “Well,” she began slowly, “Ariadne is associated with many different symbols and concepts, including passion, mazes, vegetation, snakes, forgiveness, paths, and labyrinths.”
“Okay…” Maggie trailed off. Her brow furrowed as she tried to connect the dots between these seemingly disparate ideas. She wrapped her fingers around her teacup, enjoying the warmth it brought to her chest, even as her thoughts spun like a top.
“Think about it this way,” Vee suggested, leaning forward conspiratorially. “What if ‘Ariadne’ is a metaphor for something else? Something hidden, perhaps, or something that requires guidance to unravel?”
“Like a secret society?” Maggie asked.
“Perhaps,” Vee agreed, her eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Or maybe it’s something simpler. A code word, a password… Only those who know its true meaning would be able to access whatever it represents.”
“Interesting.” Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek, her brain working overtime to process the new information.
“Speaking of Greek goddesses,” Vee said, setting her teacup back on its saucer with practiced grace. “I noticed you admiring the backless Tamara Marjolaine peignoir set. Would you care to try one on?” She gestured toward the delicate silk garment that hung enticingly from a nearby display.
Maggie nearly choked on her tea. “Those kinds of gowns are designed for sexy giraffes like Sheriff Forrester.”
The second the name left her lips, Maggie regretted it. The same scalding tide of irritation and, okay, jealousy came flooding back to her.
She hadn’t heard from McGarvey since she’d made her dramatic exit earlier, and for some damn reason, this really fucking bothered her.
“Darling, are you mad?” Vee replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Do you have any idea how desirable your body type has been throughout history? Had you been born in the neolithic era, they would have built temples to your name and sought your favor with animal sacrifices.”
“I don’t know about that,” Maggie said, “but I wouldn’t mind a sacrifice of some baby-back ribs about now.”
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out,” Vee said, smoothing the hem of her tailored pencil skirt. “But I do happen to have an excellent bottle of champagne, if plying you with it might change your mind about at least trying the set on.”
“Fine.” Maggie sighed dramatically. “But I’m sending you the therapy bill if it further exacerbates the genetic betrayal that is my legacy.”
Pushing herself up from the couch, Vee walked over to the curtain. “Carol, would you be so kind as to set up the Marjolaine peignoir set in a dressing room for Miss Michaels?”
“You betcha,” Maggie heard Carol reply.
“Now then, let’s see about this Brut.” Vee made quick work of uncorking the champagne, somehow managing to both avoid the deafeningpopor spill a single drop of the liquid gold while decanting it into slim flutes that were probably real crystal.
Behind the curtainof one of the dressing rooms with the expensive suds in her hand, Maggie eyed the silky confection.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she slipped into the luxurious peignoir, the fabric feeling like a whisper against herskin. The gown cascaded over her body, hugging her curves and flaring from her hips. It was as if the delicate silk had been tailor-made just for her, transforming her from buxom Irish girl next door into a sultry siren.
“All right, let’s see you,” Vee called out.
“Only if you promise not to laugh,” Maggie warned, taking a deep breath before opening the door. “Or vomit.”
Vee’s eyes widened as she sucked in a quick little gasp. “Darling, youmustknow how absolutely divine you look.”
Maggie’s cheeks flushed. “Look, you don’t have to sell me on it. It’s obviously beautifully made. But I’m still not sure it’s…me.”
Because unlike everything else you own, this probably didn’t fall off a truck.
“I wouldn’t insult you by trying to sell you,” Vee said, sipping her own champagne. “But one thing’s for certain—if Deputy McGarvey sees you in that, he’ll likely need a new pair of trousers.”
“Vee!” Maggie protested, feeling the blush spread to her chest. But she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her veins at the thought of his reaction.
“Come on now, don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about it,” Vee teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Oh, she had.
Frequently.
Feverishly.
