An intense wave of longing to see her twin nearly derailed her completely. Nightshade spun around in the chair to try and focus on her plate, blinking back the sting of tears.
Fernando tugged at her hair, pulling loose her braided ponytail. “Well, your hair is just as lovely as ever. Once we get you fixed up right, you'll start feeling back to normal, just wait and see.”
What took place next was nothing short of heaven. Fernando spent nearly three hours massaging and squeezing every ounce of tension from her body. Then came the facial. She was butter in his hands.
“Don't move, I'm going to raid your closet,” Fernando announced.
“As if I could move.” She wasn’t butter, she was JELL-O — a blob of nothingness.
“Here we go, your favorite color.” Fernando emerged from Caroline’s walk-in closet holding up a pink dress and Nightshade’s nothingness disappeared.
“No.”
He froze in his tracks and looked at her in total confusion as if she'd said the Earth was ending.
Crap. “I mean, I really would like to wear pants and not a dress today.” She could have told him to shove it, that the clothes she had on were fine, but Nightshade had a feeling dealing with another one of Fernando’s faux heart attacks would be more trouble than going along with him.
“Of course. Just give me a minute, I'll find the perfect outfit.” Fernando disappeared back into the closet leaving Nightshade to collapse back into her delicate seat.
Operating in a dress would be less than ideal, not to mention she was already surrounded by enough pink to last her an entire lifetime.
“How about this?” Fernando emerged from the closet holding up a pale green shirt that looked like it would hit just below her midriff and a pair of black trousers.
“I like it,” Nightshade answered, immediately latching on to the closest thing to normal she’d seen.
Fernando tapped his foot, holding the shirt in one hand and the pants in the other. “Well, what are you waiting for? I don't even know if these will fit you anymore since you've lost so much weight.”
Nightshade gaped at him in shock. This was the second time in a week someone had expected her to undress in front of them. She and her teammates changed clothes in front of each other – sometimes that was necessary — but this seemed so...different. More personal. And Fernando was a man.
Her thoughts must've shown on her face because Fernando clucked his tongue. “Don't tell me you’ve suddenly become shy. Who bought you your first Dior gown? And who helped snap you up into that gorgeous concoction of a corset dress you wore for your twenty-first birthday? Come on, I need to take the measurements anyway and this will be the perfect time.”
She had on a sports bra and boy cut panties underneath. Figuring those covered a lot more than most swimsuits, Nightshade said, “Fine. If you insist.”
He crossed his arms, her clothes flying out around him with flair. It seemed like everything he did had flair. “I do.”
Nightshade shucked the pants first, using her feet to toe them off her legs. Next came the shirt. She sucked in a deep breath and carefully pulled it off over her head. Fernando's loud gasp had her immediately covering her body. “What?”
Had she flashed a boob or something?
“Oh honey, honey...” He draped the clothes over the back of her chair and pressed three fingers to his lips as if trying to hold back a cry. “What did they do to you?”
Nightshade glanced down at herself halfway expecting to see horns growing out of her sides at his reaction, but all she saw was the same body she’d always had, similar to Caroline's but a tad more muscular.
Fernando approached, his hand outstretched, and Nightshade held as still as she could when all she wanted to do was pull away. She'd never had so many people touch her as much as she had since she’d walked into Cotter's home. Harriet and Francis couldn't seem to quit hugging her or kissing her, now Fernando...
And Merc. Lord, how he'd touched her.
“Your poor shoulder,” Fernando said, pulling Nightshade from her thoughts of Merc. “Did they say if it would leave a scar? Does it still hurt?”
Nightshade glanced down at the red puckered scar on her right arm, having already forgotten about the injury. “It's fine, really. Doesn't hurt at all.”
“What happened?” Fernando sank down onto the mattress next to her as if his wobbly knees could no longer hold him upright.
His genuine concern made her Nightshade check her immediate reaction to snap that it was none of his business. She reminded herself these were people who cared about Caroline.
So, what would a girly girl like her twin sister do in this situation?
Honestly, Nightshade had spent so much time studying what her father had given her about her sister, which was superficial at best, she realized she had no idea about Caroline's true nature. She frantically thought back to the online video she’d watched of her sister at one of Cotter’s political fundraisers, how she comported herself with calm, collected manners, obviously at ease in social situations and always displaying compassion for others.
