Page 16 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Before he could taste it, Carrie cleared her throat and said, ‘Actually, I was hoping to catch you when you came in...to say something.’
‘Of course.’
She looked nervous, avoiding his eye. Fingers plucking at a tea-towel. Then she seemed to muster her courage and looked at him. Once again he marvelled at how green her eyes were. Unusual...
Beautiful.
‘I...um... I know that I refused your request that I join you at the event this week...and you’ve probably already asked someone else...’ She trailed off here, as if waiting for him to interject.
Surprise kept Massimo’s mouth shut.
She went on, ‘But if you haven’t asked anyone else, and you’d still like me to accompany you, then I will.’
A steady thrum of satisfaction beat through Massimo’s body. A short while before he’d been telling himself he was pleased that she’d said no. But now he was even more pleased.
He said, ‘I haven’t asked anyone else yet, so...yes, I would like you to accompany me.’
Her mouth compressed. ‘Like I said, I don’t have anything suitable to wear... I can have a look on my lunchbreak, or after work...’
Massimo shook his head. It was already filling with visions of how she might look draped in silk and satin. Jewels glittering against her pale skin.
‘Leave that to me. My assistant will be in touch to ensure you have all that you need.’
‘Oh, okay...goodnight, sir.’
She turned to go and Massimo said softly from behind her, ‘The name is Massimo.’
She turned around again, her face pink. ‘Sorry, I forgot. Goodnight, Massimo.’
A lick of pure lust went straight to his groin at hearing his name on her tongue. He wanted to hear it over and over again. Begging him.
‘Goodnight, Carrie.’
She turned and left. Her scent lingered on the air. Nothing expensive, but no less compelling. It was delicate and floral with an earthy undertone.
He looked at the steak sandwich. His appetite had fled, to be replaced by something far more carnal.
Carrie had never much indulged in fantasy. Not even as a child with a single mother, living in a council flat. The life she’d seen around her had been bleak and hard and she’d accepted her place in it.
She shook her head at herself, trying to dislodge the painful memories. But it was hard, because the present moment felt dangerously close to a fantasy she’d never allowed herself to have before. A fantasy of transformation. Of becoming someone else. Of being someone else. Someone far...sleeker. Shinier. Someone almost beautiful.
Her mother had been beautiful. Carrie had always recognised that. But her beauty had been dimmed and hidden under years of disappointment, loneliness and back-breaking work.
For the first time, as Carrie looked in the mirror, she thought she could catch a glimpse of what her mother might have looked like with a different life.
You’re not your mother, whispered a little voice.
No, she wasn’t. She was herself. And she was looking disbelievingly at a vision.
A team of people had arrived at Massimo’s apartment earlier—stylists with racks of clothes, hairdressers, make-up artists...beauticians. She still blushed when she thought of how they’d attended to parts of her body that hadn’t seen daylight for a long time.
They’d trimmed her hair, taking out some of the heavy weight before pulling it up into a kind of chignon. They’d spent an hour on her face only to give her the effect of not wearing any make-up at all. Her eyes looked bigger, and very green. Cheeks dewy. Had her mouth always been so plump? Had they injected something into her lips without her even realising? She touched her mouth experimentally. It felt the same.
She was almost afraid to look at the dress. She barely even felt it on her, it was so light. Strapless. Black. Snug around her chest and waist and hips, before falling to the floor in soft folds, some of which were draped over her hip, giving an almost Grecian effect.
It was too low across her breasts. They looked...provocativeto her eye. And yet she knew well that compared to the kind of thing some women wore at the events Massimo attended and hosted, this was positively discreet.
One part of her wanted to rip everything off, clean her face and jump into bed under the covers, but another part of her—a very fledgling part—felt excited at the thought of Massimo seeing her like this. Looking at her. Seeing her differently?
