It’s for that other F word.
But based on Win’s reaction, I’m even less likely to get satisfaction on that front than I am in my hopes for revenge.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Katarina
The dress isas perfect as the one from the night before.
Outside, the final rays of the sun set, filling the room with a rosy glow.
I turn in the fitted black fabric, looking at the back. My skin is exposed all the way down to my mid back, the spaghetti straps snake along the sides, leaving most of the skin exposed. A few scars peak out, but hopefully the lighting will be dim.
My hair is styled in a simple twist that looks elegant and glossy, while my makeup is the perfect combination of effortless and sultry.
To be clear, I didn’t create either the updo or the makeup artistry. A team came in this afternoon to help with my transformation.
But now, I could almost pass for the kind of woman who belongs on Win’s arm. I’m not doing that whole self-deprecating thing, where I say I’m not good enough while secretly hoping that I am.
Win is the kind of man that the most accomplished woman in the world would struggle to hold.
Tonight, I at least look the part.
I take one last look at my smokey eyes and touch a finger to the corner of my glossy lips, making certain they’re perfect.
I turn back to the bed to retrieve my clutch.
As I turn, I catch sight of Rebecca’s pashmina folded in the Queen Anne chair that decorates the corner of the room.
My stomach swoops the slightest bit to see it.
There was one woman who won the heart of the most powerful and elusive man on planet Earth. Rebecca.
Pulling my shoulders straighter, I leave the room, making my way to the stairs.
As I round the corner and reach the top, I spot Win waiting at the bottom.
His hands are crossed in front of him, his tuxedo impeccable.
For a moment, my breath catches, and I stop, for just a second, to drink him in. It should be a sin to look that good.
“Kitten,” he rumbles as his eyes glide up my body. It heats everywhere his gaze touches.
“It’s kitten again, is it?” I purr, starting down the stairs. I might be giving my hips a little extra sway. “This morning it was all business.”
One corner of his mouth quirks up. “You look stunning.” He lifts a hand to me, his gaze locked on mine.
When I reach the second to last step, I take it, letting him guide me the rest of the way down the stairs.
He moves my hand to his other, then slides his free palm down the small of my back. It’s intimate and the feel of his skin on mine makes my skin break out in goose pimples. Drawing a ragged breath, I know I’ve got to add a little distance between us.
Win is playing me like a fiddle. “You said you needed a companion tonight. May I ask why?”
“It’s an event for orphans.”
“Right,” I answer, pressing my lips together. While his explanation doesn’t really explain much, I think I get it. Charity events for orphans is a softer kind of cause and so having a woman on his arm makes sense.
It’s further proof that Win never missteps, he’s always aligning himself for the perfect presentation.
