Wasn’t it?
But she was in a chalet in Switzerland, and she was going to be dining with a very rich man. When would she have a chance to do something like this again?
Twenty-four going on twenty-five.
Sabela pulled out a silk wrap dress.
It was a lovely shade of lavender that she knew looked good on her. The bust was well fitted, and the fabric molded itself to her curvy hips and ass. The skirt flared out at mid-thigh, displaying her long, shapely legs.
It couldn’t have been better if she’d made it herself. She chose a playful pair of pumps with a spiked heel and slipped them on. The fit was perfect.
In the dressing room, Sabela stood in front of the tall, triple mirrors and turned this way and that. One shower and a wardrobe change and already it was like she was seeing a different person.
Would Colin like her selection? If he expected eye candy, was this the sort of thing he wanted? She didn’t want to disappoint, though she couldn’t have said why.
Of course, there was the fact that she owed him, and she knew it.
As she did her hair and makeup, Sabela wondered what was in store for her for the rest of the evening.
From terrified to enticed, she’d come a long way since she’d been forced out of her house and onto a plane. She couldn’t tell if it was to her advantage that she was loosening up, or to her detriment.
She thought of Colin’s inscrutable, smoky eyes and the way he studied her … like she was prey he’d already captured and was toying with until it was time to finish the deed.
She shivered. And right there was the question that begged answering the most.
What deed?
Chapter Eleven
COLIN WAITED AT THE ENTRANCE to the dining room. There were two spots set at the far end of the long table, which could comfortably seat twenty. He had ensured that Marie made one of the most outrageously delicious meals in her repertoire.
This week, no expense would be spared.
If he wanted to woo Sabela, he had to knock her off her feet from the start with his wealth and decadent lifestyle, and Marie was happy to help.
Since Sabela had walked through the door and disarmed him with surprises, Colin had been preparing what he’d say when she joined him at the table. Each time he thought it through, he came up with something better.
It was important that Sabela found him charming and clever, especially with a will like hers. You had to treat people like that in a special way to get them to lower their defenses. And then you could strike. Sabela would never see it coming.
But all his carefully laid strategies flew out the window into the biting cold Alps air when Sabela stepped into the room.
She was lovelier than he ever could have imagined.
The lavender dress she wore was one he’d almost refused when his stylist brought it to his attention, and he was glad now he’d given in to the stylist’s insistence.
The bust plunged low and clung tightly around the waist, amplifying Sabela’s breasts and hips. The skirt reached halfway down her luscious thighs, long enough to be respectable, yet short enough to inspire sinful speculation.
And he had sinful speculation to spare.
He shifted, his physical response to this woman a potential embarrassment.
Colin straightened his back and clasped his hands behind him to make sure he stood proud and tall. “I’m glad you managed to find your way back downstairs,” he said once he finally found his voice.
Sabela grinned a wickedly playful little grin that made his heart thump hard. “Marie left me a map.”
A map? When had he had maps made?
He realized it was a joke and laughed. “I know Haberlin Chalet is big, but it serves its purpose.”
In a place this big, he was able to get away from everyone else and spend time on his own. Solitude was hard to find, and for the past four years, solitude had been Colin’s second strongest craving.
Sabela didn’t speak, but she bunched her brow and hitched an eyebrow as if to question what he meant. An unspoken question like that was one Colin was glad to answer.
“I often use the chalet for business meetings,” he explained. “Having a more isolated area is helpful to keep everybody in the same mindset, and beyond that, some people have a certain expectation when it comes to their lodgings.”
Executive class bigwigs had expensive tastes. With a chalet of his own, Colin was able to make sure their expectations would be exceeded in the most intimidating way possible.
The confusion eased from Sabela’s face. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
Colin put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the table. The scent of jasmine perfumed her skin, subtle, but tempting. He wanted to sniff her hair, but resisted.
Out of all the scenarios he’d planned for, he hadn’t expected to find himself in one where he felt such intense attraction. If this was going to work, he needed to remain in control of himself. But he had to admit, this attraction made the seduction he planned a treat to gladly anticipate.
Colin pulled Sabela’s chair out and pushed it in once she was seated. He sat in the adjacent seat at the head of the table.
“Zurchergeschnetzeltes are Marie’s specialty,” he said.
The first time she had made them for him, he’d known he’d made the right choice in keeping her on as his housekeeper. Sabela would love them.
“Zurchergeschnetzeltes?” Sabela asked, navigating the word with difficulty.
There was an honest innocence to her that was enticing. Sabela was tough, but she faced the world with bright-eyed enthusiasm.
“It means cut meat, Zurich style. It’s a veal delicacy. Tonight, Marie will serve some of her finest Swiss dishes.”
Sabela’s face lit up. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Colin.”
Seeing her take so much delight in the treat pleased Colin. He poured them both some of the wine that had been decanted earlier by Marie.
“Tell me about what you do, Sabela Vaughn,” he said simply. “I’d like to hear more about you.”
“Like you don’t already know?” Sabela asked. She raised an eyebrow. “That woman on the phone took all of my information when I applied for help, and I know that you’ve been using it. All the clothes upstairs fit me perfectly, and you’ve never even seen me before to judge my size.”
“And?”
“And so I know that you’ve investigated who I am and what I do.” Sabela lifted her chin. “I’m pretty sure you know that I’ve been a waitress at Pinkie’s Diner for over three years, and you know that waitressing is not what I want to do with my life.”
She was sharp. A thrill of excitement coursed down Colin’s spine. It was refreshing to be with a woman who spoke her mind so freely.
He sipped his wine thoughtfully before speaking. “All right, so say I do know all about how your heart is in fashion design. But that’s just information. It doesn’t tell me how you feel about it. Nothing can compare to hearing you speak about your passions yourself.”
Colin knew about her dreams of attending college to pursue fashion design. He knew that she’d put those plans on the back burner to take care of her brother, and that his accident had stolen Sabela’s dreams.
Stolen dreams and living nightmares. Trevor Vaughn didn’t deserve her sacrifices, her unfailing support.
He locked gazes with her, and he found himself impressed when she didn’t look away. “If nothing else,” he continued, “seeing your lips move will be worth the words. You are ravishing tonight.”
Sabela’s eyes widened, and she took a quick sip of wine to cover her apparent surprise. “I’m not sure if that’s actually a compliment or not, like you don’t much care what I say.”
“Regardless, I meant it as a compliment.”
She appeared to brush her concern aside. “Well, I’ve been designing clothes since I was young. It gave me an outlet to work out some of my problems, and when I found out I was good at it, I started teachi
ng myself to sew so that I could bring the designs I drew to life.”
“And you still do it now? Sew your own designs?”
She did, and he already knew it. The clothes she’d been wearing when she stepped into Haberlin Chalet earlier were of her own design.
“Yes,” Sabela answered. “Sometimes I sell what I make online, but I don’t have much time to focus on selling these days. What I make, I make for me.”
Marie swept in from the kitchen carrying two covered silver platters on a serving tray. She set one before each of them, bowed her head, then with a smile, swept back out again.
Colin removed the lids, revealing the meals beneath. Marie had outdone herself. The aroma tantalized.
“You’ve got enough money in your bank account to quit the diner and launch your career or go to school. So why is it that you haven’t?” Colin tried to ask the question nonchalantly, but it was one that had been nagging at him for weeks.
He’d expected her to quit waitressing when she’d cashed her very first check from him.
“I don’t want to become dependent on someone else,” Sabela replied, expression guarded. “I didn’t know how long I could expect the aid to continue. Nothing lasts forever. I’ve learned that the hard way.”
“Indeed,” Colin replied, knowing the truth of her statement far too intimately. Heavy, ornate silver knife in hand, he sliced the veal steak Marie had prepared. “I know that you’re in debt for a reason, so why don’t you tell me about him.”
Sabela glanced at him, then set her silverware down. The uneasy way she set her lips betrayed her worry. “Him. You mean Trevor, I assume. Why are you asking me to say all of this? You know already. I know you know.”