Page 55 of His Turn

And then I start on my make-up. I go light. Silver accents on my eyelids, black lashes, and a blush of pink on my cheeks.

I’m glowing again. Last night’s abuse already behind me.

My lips are a shade darker than my cheeks when I decide that’s enough. I like the soft contrast of my face against my dark hair and eyes.

Then I go for the dress. I slip it on. It fits like it was tailored for my curves. Makes my hips round and my waist small. My nipples are already peaked against the mesh of the bodice.

I drag my fingertips over the beads. They are glass and they sparkle.

The box had shoes too. Silver, to match the dress. And jewelry. Nice jewelry. Drop diamond earrings, a silver cuff that is probably platinum, lined with pavé diamonds, and a matching necklace that looks more like a collar than a choker.

There is no ring.

At exactly eight-twenty I swing the black velvet capelet with silver fox-fur trim that Jordan bought me for Christmas over my shoulders.

Hmmm. I wonder if he was always planning on bringing me to this party. It matches my dress suspiciously well.

And then I grab the small silver clutch, also a Christmas present from Jordan, and walk out the door to meet him downstairs.

I don’t expect him to be waiting, since I’m a few minutes early and he said he didn’t want to come up, but when I step off the elevator, he is waiting. Black tux framing his perfect body. Smile on his handsome face. One hand outstretched to take mine and lead me down the half-flight of steps to the main lobby.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say, leaving off the ‘sir,’ since we’re in public and the lobby is filled with people. That’s something, I think. He’s not so controlling that he wants me to play in front of strangers.

He doesn’t do this for ego. Neither do I.

“Are you nervous?” he asks as the doormen nod their heads to us and we pass through the doors and out into the frigid night air.

“Should I be?”

“Yes,” he says, opening the passenger door to his car and holding my hand until I’m seated in the soft leather seat. I look up at him, wondering how far they’ll go tonight. But he just smiles and pushes the door closed with a soft thunk.

The engine is running so the heat is on, but the warmth is only momentary because he opens his door, letting the cold in, and a breeze of it flashes past my face when he pulls it closed.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, Nadia,” he says, putting the car in gear and pulling away from my building.

“Did you miss me last night?”

“No,” he says. “I was thinking about someone else.”