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Vivian was all too aware of the damage her bodyguard could inflict. Not all of it physical. “Not to worry. I have everything under control.” She might have gotten off to a bumpy start, but by the end of these two weeks, she’d have Liam eating out of her palm.

Dove scanned her from head to toe, taking in Vivian’s negligee. Her jaw went slack. “You changed with Liam in the room?”

Vivian hitched an innocent shoulder, and Dove’s eyes rounded. “You stripped for him, didn’t you?” She stomped her foot. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

That little performance was certainly not something she wanted her rather sheltered Chosen to witness.

Vivian sat at her dressing table, smoothing cleanser onto her skin. In the mirror, her golden eyes gleamed back at her, sparking with life. Despite her exhaustion, adrenaline burned in her veins. She’d gotten far too caught up in her own performance. She’d need to be more careful in the future. One slip in her defenses and she’d find her heart crushed beneath Liam’s heel once more.

“The way he looks at you.” Dove sighed, leaning a hip against the dressing table. “I can’t believe you haven’t been lovers.”

“I offered once, and he declined,” Vivian stated in an even tone, masking the hurt the memory stirred.

Dove’s brows shot high on her forehead. “You’re joking, right? Are you certain he isn’t…well, more Armond’s type?” Armond didn’t allow a person’s gender to set limitations on what his heart desired.

Vivian scowled. “I’m certain. From what I’ve seen, Liam is partial to plump blondes with sagging breasts. Not only did he decline to come back to my room, but he took one of the waitresses home with him instead.” Even knowing how Vivian felt about Liam, the little harlot had been all too eager to leave with him that night.

Dove handed her a pile of tissues. “Well, you’ve certainly captured his attention now.”

Vivian wiped the makeup from her eyes, ignoring the little thrill Dove’s observation sent through her. “It’s a good quality to have in a bodyguard, don’t you think?”

“He’s just so raw and primal.” Dove raised her hands, shaking her mighty fists. “Like a great Viking warrior. Did you see those scars? I simply must paint him. Please, Vivian.” From the dreamy look in Dove’s eyes, she was already envisioning that painting in her head. While Dove was a gifted painter, it wasn’t often she was inspired to put paint to canvas, finding the task draining. Along with spirits, she also perceived a person’s aura. Those colors tended to manifest in her paintings.

Vivian pressed her lips together. “We’ll see.” She experienced a strange pang at the thought of Liam posing bare-chested for the talented artist.

A knock sounded. The door swung open, and Armond breezed into the room. “What did I miss?”

“Vivian stripped for Liam,” Dove was quick to declare, her tone scandalous.

“Do tell.” Armond sauntered across the room and sat on the bed.

“The man knocked out one of the guards and dropped him on the marble,” Vivian defended. “After which, he took every opportunity to offend or insult me. I couldn’t let that go unpunished.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” Armond agreed. “Still, I’m sorry I missed your performance.”

Done moisturizing, Vivian joined him on the bed, reclining on the stack of pillows. “I don’t know why the two of you are making such a fuss. All you missed was a bland performance from a washed-up performer.”

“Washed-up, my big toe,” Dove declared. “Armond, she was fabulous. You should have seen her. Hold on a second, and I’ll show you what you missed.” With that, Dove rushed to the closet.

Vivian shared a look with Armond.This should be interesting. Ever since Dove had taken an improv class, she took every opportunity to perform for them.

Seconds later, Dove emerged, her slim body wrapped in a purple and green feather boa. She flicked it over her shoulder with a dramatic flourish.

“Where did you get that ghastly thing?” Armond asked, appalled. Due to Dove’s pack-rat tendencies, many of her treasures had made it into Vivian’s closet.

“Mardi Gras. But don’t worry about that right now.” Dove crooked a finger, urging him to her side. “Come help me.”

“Must I?” Armond groaned.

“Yes, you must.” Dove stomped her bare foot, and Armond dutifully rose and stood beside her, his handsome face portraying his torture.

“So, I knock on the door, and Vivian says,come in,” she mocked in a squeaking tone.

“I do not sound like that,” Vivian scoffed, already close to that smile Dove was after.

Dove continued, focused on her improvisational skit. “The door swings open, and there’s Liam. Shirtless, muscles bulging, oozing sexual tension. Then, he says…” She dropped the boa over her arms, holding up her feathered biceps, grating, “Vivian, I want you.

“Then Vivian is like…” She flipped the boa around her throat, wrapped her arms around Armond’s waist, and shoved her face into his neck. “Liam, get out. I want to have sex with Dove now.”