I jerked away from the steaming electric iron in Shea’s hand. “I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

She gripped a hunk of my hair and used it to pull my head where she wanted it. “Sit still, or I’m going to burn you.”

A ragged exhale pushed past my lips. Out of my comfort zone much? That didn’t begin to describe the unease crawling over my skin. I came upstairs, expecting an ultrasound, but Shea refused to turn on the machine until she’d cleaned me up. Yeah, the shower had made me feel like a new person, but this was something else entirely.

No wonder we were in the hall bathroom and not the master en-suite, because she’d taken over it, transforming the small room into a kingdom of girlishness. Sparkly makeup, tweezers, razors, and lotions covered the counter. Dresses, tops, and lingerie hung from every nail and hook in a tapestry of sequins and lace. And the Duchess of Glitter World stood amid a pile of shoes of every color, wrapping my hair around a curling iron and staring at my chewed-up fingernails like they were a direct insult to her vagina.

I tucked my hands at my back, the movement threatening to loosen the towel knotted around me. “All this effort to make me look like a woman and—”

“You are a woman.” She set down the iron and fluffed out my curls. “Hottest damned woman alive.”

I smiled my thanks, though I disagreed. “Pretty sure I’m staring at that woman.”

She was always gorgeous, but right now…heaven help the men in this house. Her complexion was buffed and powdered into a silky sheen of chocolate. Smoky shadows enlarged her brown eyes, deep red gloss painted her pillowy lips, and her eyelashes went on for days. Evidently, she’d spent a lot of time rifling through the wealth of Charlottesville.

She smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, her hand wielding a makeup brush like a weapon. “Quit flirting with me, and close your eyes.”

I glared at her. “I haven’t felt the IUD string in weeks. If there’s something wrong with it, all of this is just icing on a cake that won’t get eaten.”

She glared right back. “Oh, they’re going to eat you, because you’re going to strut your fine ass out there and gobsmack them into next week. They won’t even care what shows up on that ultrasound.”

I pulled at the blond curls falling around my arm, stretching one out and watching it spring back. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

It had been two weeks since I had sex with Roark. He was infertile, so pregnancy wasn’t a worry. Yet. How long could I restrain my sexual relationship with Jesse?

“Have a little faith, honey.” She knocked my hand away. “Give them this one night of burning, yearning, instant-boner seduction. Tomorrow, you can return to your ponytails, shit-kickers, and leather holsters.”

Seduction I could do. Worst case, the IUD was MIA and we’d repeat our night in the bathroom, which had been nothing short of mind-blowing. And other blowing.

I sighed at the invasion of tingles in my core, fantasizing about my guardians as Shea did her thing. As much as I wanted to graciously bow out of this little makeup party, it seemed to make her ecstatically happy. So I let her brush shit over my lids and cheeks and smear my lips and lashes in more shit. Then she moved to the clothes.

A fist knocked on the door, accompanied by the scratch of claws.

Shea peeked her head out. “Hey, handsome.” She lifted her knee against the cracked opening, blocking the shove of a shaggy head. “No, Darwin. No dog hair allowed.”

“Hey.” Paul’s deep voice filtered through the door. “How much longer? Jesse’s pacing around that machine, glaring at it like he’s waiting for it to grow eight-legs or something.”

Poor Jesse. Tonight would either be a night of colossal disappointment or one huge final step in intimacy.

“Ten minutes.” Shea closed the door and slumped against it, wearing a floaty-heart smile, one that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the man in the hall.

“Have you slept with him?”

“Maybe.” She ducked her head, gathering the clothes from the edge of the tub.

“And Eddie?”

She smiled at me over her shoulder then sighed, her lips pinching. “They’re not Jackson, you know?” She shook her head, her dark curls falling across her face.

I lifted her hair, tucking it behind her ears. “It gets easier.”

“Yeah? I mean, the sex is good, really good, and who knows? Maybe it’ll turn into something like you have someday?”

“I hope so.” I leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“Lipstick!” She dodged my mouth and shoved the bundle of clothes against my chest. “Get dressed.”

Ten minutes later, I flattened my palms on my thighs, smoothing out the fabric of the short, flirty black skirt. A shimmery blue strapless top clung to my boobs and the dips in my waist. I got away with going bra-less, but Shea won the fight about the white lace thong, claiming the tags were still attached because it was destined for my ass. She was right about that, considering I couldn’t stop the strip of lace from crawling its way into my crack.

On my way out of the bathroom, I glanced at the mirror. Staring back was a woman from another time and a different place. She was the career woman who dressed for the office every day. The wife who dined at fancy restaurants with her husband. The mother who attended talent shows to watch her daughter dance and karate tournaments to see her son show off his kicks.

I missed that woman deeply, longingly. My chest ached at the knowledge that I was looking at an artificial layer and deep down that person was well and truly gone.

Behind the light makeup and clean hair was someone else entirely, a woman with eyes that had seen a thousand deaths, with ears that had heard the screams of unfathomable horror, and a heart that had slogged through bloodshed and found a way to love again.

In that moment, staring at my reflection beneath the warmth of a single light bulb, I realized I was proud of the woman I’d become. Maybe I’d lost the graceful ability to sashay in a pair of four-inch heels, but I could use the spikes to defend a life. Maybe I no longer dominated a boardroom, but I could hold my own on a battlefield. Maybe I’d forgotten how to comfort a child, but I had spread a cure that gave women a chance to love generations of children.

“You’re beautiful.” Shea stood behind me and rested her chin on my shoulder, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “I'll handle the ultrasound, and you just stand there and watch the zippers bust open, m’kay?”

I burst out laughing and followed her through the door and into the hallway.