Page 18 of Conquered

“Oh… call me Thomas,” he replied with a flutter of his wrist.

“Okay. Are you British?”

Thomas looked at her then succumbed to paroxysms of laughter. “No. I was born in Brooklyn. I just thought a British accent would make me more credible. Mr. Hunter seems to think I’m doing a great job. And I’m gay…just so you know.”

The admission broke the ice and Noelle felt her anxiety fade away.

“Have you ever dressed a girl before for Mr. Blackwell?”

“No never. I mostly shop for his personal needs like clothes, perfume, etc. I gotta admit I was surprised by this particular request.”

“He’s probably dated some of the most sophisticated women in the city.” Noelle fretted.

Thomas raised a brow to the roof. “You’re right. But I can teach some of those ladies a thing or two in refinement.”

Noelle smiled at the consolation. She still wasn’t absolutely sure this was the right thing to do.

“Trust me, Thomas added, noticing her woebegone expression, “When I’m done with you, Mr. Blackwell will approve. That’s a promise.”

The car came to a stop outside a spa located in the heart of Upper East Side Manhattan. Thomas announced cheerily she was getting a full face and body party-prep. Noelle wondered what the hell that was. Inside, she was asked to remove all her clothes after a fluffy robe was handed to her, and then she was led to an aromatic steam room. She came out feeling more relaxed than when she came in.

That wasn’t so bad.

Next, she was ushered to a private room and was asked to climb a bed and open her legs. It was a massage table. Noelle covered her eyes in mortification as an attendant gave her a Brazilian Bikini Wax. She felt something warm on her vagina. When the attendant yanked the piece of muslin cloth, Noelle saw stars and let out a shriek. She comforted herself devising ways and means to kill Thomas Gaye for the pain she just endured.

The next stop was the mani-pedi station where more pain headed her way as her hands and feet were covered in hot paraffin wax before her nails were painted.

Looking up, she heard a commotion by the entrance. Droves of people entered the spa holding cloth bags over their arms. Two clothes racks were wheeled inside where more clothes hung.

“I booked the entire second floor for your dressing room. I thought we could save time by bringing the clothes here.” Thomas announced gaily.

He was obviously in his element as he traipsed upstairs.

Shambling from all the pain, Noelle hobbled to the make-up chair where her eyebrows were threaded.

When that was over with, another hairstylist worked on her hair, cutting, blow-drying, spritzing hair gel, and God- knows what else. Noelle resigned herself and hardly cared. She was numb.

When the hairstylist announced she was done, Noelle was led up the stairs and into a room where racks of dresses stood in attention. Thomas stood by the door and clapped his hands in delight.

"Your hair and make-up are perfect," he acknowledged, "but we still have to choose the right dress for you,” waving his arm dramatically towards racks filled with dresses.

Noelle approached one rack and pulled out a dress. It had a very expensive designer label. She placed it back and pulled out another. That too had a recognizable high-end label at the back. So were the next and the next and the next.

She looked at Thomas in confusion. How was she to decide when her whole body was a giant lump of pain?

“I know…I know…” Thomas chanted, “So I narrowed it down to these three.” He waved his arms towards a rack that held three designer gowns.

Noelle was relieved and threw him a grateful look.

She immediately knew what she wanted. The strapless shell pink with a sweetheart neckline and crisscrossed bodice was calling her name. The chiffon draped down to a flowing hemline. It was simple yet classy. And it was a Vera Wang creation.

Thomas clapped his hands in approval.

“Good girl. That was my choice as well. I thought I had to knock you unconscious just to get you into that dress. Come,” he urged, giving her robe a meaningful glance.

Noelle understood and dropped the dressing gown. She stood naked as the day she was born. He hardly gave her body a second glance.

Has he ever seen Hunter naked?