SEAL's Fake Girlfriend (Bronte Security Services Book 2) by Leslie North

Author:Leslie North [North, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

13

What kind of woman has time for this pampering? Rhianne wondered savagely. Seriously, who, in an average week, had the time, money, and patience to invest in such intensive grooming? Rhianne liked to think she took good care of herself. She had regular waxing appointments for her legs, and visiting her hairdresser for the occasional trim—when she wasn’t too busy—but all this!

She didn’t know what half of it was. Eyebrows, for instance. The “brow esthetician” here offered a choice between microblading, extensions, and lamination. Even after Juanita’s explanations, in both English and Spanish, Rhianne wasn’t that much the wiser. She kept her eyebrows as they were, thank you very much. For eyelashes, they had the options of tinting, lifts, and extensions. Rhianne could work out what a tint was, but lifts and extensions were things she did in the gym. Where she wished she was now, burning off some of her frustration.

She looked down at herself. If anyone from San Diego Sheriff’s Department could see her like this, wrapped in mylar bandages like a mummy, they’d assume she’d been injured in the course of a search and rescue operation. But apparently, following a detoxifying body scrub, an exfoliating wrap was required.

“Oh, thank God.” She sighed as Ava came back into her cubicle to finally release her.

“I’m sorry?” the young woman asked.

“I said I bet I look good,” Rhianne lied. None of this was the young beautician’s fault. She probably didn’t want to be here anymore than Rhianne did. She’d tried getting into conversation with the spa treatment women, wanting to find out what they knew and worried that they, too, might have been trafficked or compelled to work for Arturo by some other means, but they’d all given careful, bland, obviously prepared answers that gave away nothing.

“You do!” Ava clapped when she unveiled Rhianne. “With all the dead cells lifted—”

“—I get a smoother complexion and a flattering glow. Yes, I know.” The marketing spiel was one thing the estheticians hadn’t been tight-lipped about, and Rhianne could parrot it easily.

She sighed. These girls wouldn’t talk—and they probably had nothing to reveal anyway—so she had to cast her net elsewhere. “What was it you suggested? That we should finish off around the pool with a light massage?”

“Oh yes!” Ava’s enthusiasm made Rhianne tired. “I will take you and help you chose the best oil to complement your wrap and relax you.”

Oh God, was she going to make Rhianne sniff more bottles, all of which smelled the same to her, and discuss the merits of each? Grimly resigned, Rhianne let Ava lead her from the room out to the courtyard where the mixer had been held that first evening and settle her on a lounger beside the pool.

“Just the basic oil, please,” Rhianne begged the masseuse. She almost jumped when the young guy began on her shoulders, his touch was so light. She’d had deep tissue work done before, for strains and injuries, but never a recreational massage.

It would have been relaxing, the

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