Don't be honest, don't be honest. Hate me. Despise me, Damon begged her, at the same time caressing her arms and the two layers of silk that were all that stood between his hands and her skin.
"But why?"
Because I can't be trusted. I'm a wicked wolf, and you're a pure soul, a snow-white newborn lamb. You mustn't let me hurt you.
Why should you hurt me?
Because I might - no, I don't want to bite you - I only want to kiss you, just a little, like this. There was revelation in Damon's mind-voice. And he did kiss so sweetly, and he always knew when Elena's knees were going to give out and picked her up before she could fall on the floor.
Damon, Damon, she was thinking, feeling very sweet herself because she knew she was giving him pleasure, when she suddenly realized.
Oh! Damon, please let me go - I have to go have a fitting right now!
Deeply flushed, he slowly, reluctantly put her down, grabbed her before she could fall, and put her down again.
I think I shall have to go have a fit right now as well, he told her earnestly as he stumbled out of the room, missing the door the first time.
Not a fit - a fitting! Elena called after him, but she never knew if he had heard. She was pleased, though, that he had let her go, without really understanding anything except that she was saying no. That was quite a bit of improvement.
Then she hurried in to Lady Ulma's room, which was filled with all sorts of people, including two male models, who had just been garbed in trousers and long shirts.
"Sage's clothes," said Lady Ulma, nodding at the large one, "and Damon's." She nodded at the smaller man.
"Oh, they're perfect!"
Lady Ulma looked at her with just the slightest doubt in her eyes. "These are made of genuine sacking," she said. "The meanest, lowest cloth in the slave hierarchy. Are you sure they will wear them?"
"They're wearing them or they aren't going at all," Elena said flatly and winked.
Lady Ulma laughed. "Good plan."
"Yes - but what do you think of my other plan?" Elena asked, genuinely interested in Lady Ulma's opinion, even while she blushed.
"My dear benefactress," Lady Ulma said. "I used to watch my mother put together such outfits...after I had turned thirteen, of course - and she told me that they always made her happy, for she was bringing joy to two at once, and that the purpose was nothing but joy. I promise you, Lucen and I will be done in no time. Now, should you not be getting ready?"
"Oh, yes - oh, I do love you, Lady Ulma! It's so funny that the more people you love, the more you want to love!" And with that Elena went running back to her own rooms.
Her maids-in-waiting were all there and all ready. Elena took the quickest, briskest bath of her life - she was keyed up - and found herself on a couch in the middle of a smiling, keen-eyed bunch, each neatly doing her job without interfering with the others.
There was a depilatory, of course - in fact one for each leg, one for her armpits, and one for her eyebrows. While these women and the women with soft creams and unguents were at work, creating a unique fragrance for Elena, another one thoughtfully considered her face and body as a whole.
This woman touched up Elena's eyebrows to darken them, and gilded Elena's eyelids with metallic cosmetic paint before using something that added at least a quarter-inch to Elena's eyelashes. Then she extended Elena's eyes with exotic horizontal lines of kohl. Finally, she carefully made Elena's lips a rich glossy red that somehow gave the impression that they were continually puckered for a kiss. After this the woman sprinkled the faintest of iridescence all over Elena's body. Finally, a very large canary diamond that had been sent up from Lucen's jewelry bench was firmly cemented into her navel.
It was while the hairdressers were seeing to the last of the little curls on her forehead that the two boxes and a scarlet cape came from Lady Ulma's women. Elena thanked all her ladies-in-waiting and beauticians sincerely, paid them all a bonus that had them twittering, and then asked them to leave her alone. When they dithered, she asked them again, just as politely, but in louder tones. They went.
Elena's hands were trembling as she took out the outfit Lady Ulma had created. It was quite as decent as a bathing suit, but it looked like jewelry strategically placed on wisps of golden tulle. It all coordinated with the canary diamond: from the necklace to the armlets to the golden bracelets that denoted that, however expensively Elena was dressed, she was still a slave.
And that was it. She was going clad in tulle and jewelry, perfume and paint, to see her Stefan. Elena put the scarlet cloak on very, very carefully to avoid rumpling or smearing anything below, and slipped her feet into delicate golden sandals with very high heels.
She hurried downstairs and was exactly on time. Sage and Damon were wearing cloaks tightly closed - which meant that they were dressed in the sacking outfits underneath. Sage had had Lady Ulma's coach made ready. Elena settled her matching golden bracelets on her wrists, hating them because she had to wear them, pretty as they were against the white fur trim on her scarlet cloak. Damon held out a hand to help her into the coach.
"I get to ride inside? Does that mean I don't have to wear - " But looking at Sage, her hopes were crushed.
"Unless we want to curtain all the windows," he said, "you're legally traveling outside without slave bracelets."
Elena sighed and gave her hand to Damon. Standing against the sun, he was a dark silhouette. But then, as Elena blinked in the light, he stared in astonishment. Elena knew he'd seen her gilded eyelids. His eyes dropped to her pursed-to-be-kissed lips. Elena blushed.
"I forbid you to order me to show you what's under the cloak," she said hastily. Damon looked thwarted.