Not for long, I thought, irritated.

“Adam Haddox is here, miss.” Isaac carried papers in one hand.

“Is that the contract?” I asked, closing the magazine and setting it on the seat.

“Yes, miss. Would you like me to place them on your desk?”

I could have said yes. Let Adam sign them right away. But that would be too nice, too easy. He needed to suffer. The buzzing came back at those thoughts. I growled within, forcing it to stop.

“Take the contract to the office. Adam must first prove to me that he can do my hair and makeup. If he can’t, it won’t do to have him as my personal servant, now would it?” I allowed the sneer to show on my face.

“Very well, miss Beatrice.”

I could tell Isaac was unhappy with the decision. That hadn’t been part of the deal. But I was a Cavanaugh. I would do whatever the hell I wanted.

Isaac closed the door, leaving Adam and me alone.

He faced me. I couldn’t read his expression. My stomach was letting off fireworks again. In the bright sunlight his blond hair, blue eyes, and completely drool-worthy body seemed more perfect than yesterday.

“Come on.” I walked into my closet and sat at my makeup desk. He followed. The mirror was still flipped up so it was horizontal. I didn’t move it. “Use this to brush my hair out and be careful.”

“Yes, Miss Cavanaugh.” He took the brush from my outstretched hand. One of his fingers touched mine. A tingle shot up my arm. I ignored it. I did not tingle.

“Do you mind if I remove the towel from your head?” Adam’s voice seemed to flash through my body like lightning.

I crossed my legs and cleared my throat. “No. Go ahead.”

He carefully unwound the towel, letting my hair fall down my back.

“Just put the towel in the hamper over there.”

“Yes, Miss Cavanaugh.” He tossed it from where he stood behind me. The towel landed in the hamper. If they had been a basketball and a hoop, there would’ve been a swoosh.

I didn’t have time to be impressed because he took some of my wet hair in one hand and began brushing. He was tender, even more tender than his mother had been.

Once he’d finished with the ends he worked his way up. We didn’t speak. I had nothing to say and Adam seemed too intent on his work. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy the sensation. When my hair was completely tangle free I heard him set down the brush. I opened my eyes, preparing to say something, but Adam began running his fingers over my scalp, massaging it.

My body responded immediately to his touch. Every nerve ending from the top of my head to the tips of my toes came alive. My skin prickled and I shivered.

“Are you cold?” Adam asked.

“A little.”

He reached behind him and pulled a shawl from one of my shelves, then wrapped it around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the edges and pulling them close.

“You’re welcome, Miss Cavanaugh.” He began massaging my head again.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to shake off the feelings.

“I’m sorry, Miss Cavanaugh. I learned that a scalp massage stimulates the hair follicles.”

“Fine.” I pulled the shawl more tightly around my body.

After several minutes, he ran his fingers through my hair. “Now what?” I asked, irritated that my body had never been so relaxed.

“I’m going to braid your hair. The video I watched instructed I separate your hair into three pieces.”

“Oh. Well hurry up. I haven’t got all day,” I barked.

“Right away.”

I didn’t respond. Instead I closed my eyes again, unable to stop myself from reveling in the wonderful sensations. If braiding was all he knew, I wouldn’t mind. He could do this every day for the rest of my life. I sighed contentedly. He must’ve taken the sound to be impatience. I felt his fingers move more quickly.

“There. I’m finished. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” I kept the bite in my voice. “Get started on my makeup.”

He turned me in my chair. I realized I was very low and he was tall. My chair could raise and lower with the press of a lever, but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to see what he would do.

“Hang on.” He went over to my makeup and began going through my things. For such a large man he was very agile. He didn’t bump the bottles into each other. It was almost sensual watching him touch my perfumes, handle my eye shadow, pick up my liner pencils. His eyes caught hold of my lip balm and he smiled. That snapped me out of my daydream. Adam was supposed to be suffering.

“Get your grubby hands off my things!”

“Sorry, Miss Cavanaugh.”

“And stop smiling for goodness sake. This is serious business.” He stood straight, putting his hands to his sides, making his face stoic.

I huffed. “Better.” I pulled my makeup bag over and opened it. “What do you need?”

He didn’t meet my eyes when he spoke. “I need a light foundation with SPF in it, if you have it. Your skin is already flawless without it but a little would be nice.”

I felt my cheeks warm at his compliment.

“Some powder. Your makeup brushes. A pink shade of blush. Some brown eyeliner and some eye shadow in shades of brown and pink. Mascara in brown, if you have it. And then, if you don’t mind, I’ll apply lip balm to your lips.”

So that’s why he smiled. The lip balm was something he recognized.

I took out the things he’d asked for and set them on the desk. “There. Anything else?”

“No, Miss Cavanaugh, that should do it.”

“Great.” I closed my eyes. “You may begin.”

My chair began to rise and I was glad my eyes were closed. I felt his body come close to me. His breath caressed my cheek. It was warm and smelled like mouthwash. The effect was disconcerting.

“Don’t breathe on me,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Sorry.” He put some of the foundation on first, using only his third and fourth fingers. He was extra tender. And I had a strong desire to lean into his hand. With the powder, he brushed it over my face in an upward and outward motion. On my cheeks, he ran the blush brush in exactly the right spot. “I’m going to line your left eye first.”

“Good.”

He lined my lids and then did the shadow. I heard him pull the mascara wand from the tube. He touched it to my upper lashes and brushed it on several times. Repeating the same process on the other side.

“Now for the balm and then you’re finished.”

For some reason the idea of him touching my lips made me nervous. “I’ll do the lip balm, thank you very much.” I opened my eyes and came face to face with Adam. He must’ve been holding his breath because I didn’t realize how close he was.

“Oh,” I said, breathing in, catching hold of the scent of his body, like cedar wood and something sweet yet earthy—pineapple.

“Would you like to see how I did?” He kept his features composed.

“Sure.” I guessed I needed to now. I took a deep breath and held it.

Adam turned me toward the mirror and pushed it so I could see myself. I was too high though. Adam realized this and pressed the lever to lower my chair.

I kept my eyes forward, slowly watching my reflection come into view. First impression was, wow. My face glowed with freshness. The makeup wasn’t overly done. I pulled my braid over my shoulder. Each of the three sections was exactly the same.

“How did I do?” Adam asked. I bent down so that I could see his reflection in the glass as well.

I let out my breath. “You did a—” the word awesome almost left my lips, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. “Acceptable.” I shrugged, pressing some lip balm against my lips. “I guess.” I stood. “Let’s go sign that contract.”

“And then you’ll free my mother?”

“Yes. I said I would.” I kept my features blank. Inside I was glad he’d done so well. Glad! And happy! I remembered the bird singing while I lay out next to the pool. It’d been only two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime. I’d wanted to know what it felt like to be happy enough to sing. And suddenly I knew. Knew the feeling soaring through my chest was happiness. But it couldn’t be. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let Adam see it.