Free Sicilian Nights Omnibus by Penny Jordan Page A

so elegant that it was hard to put an exact age on her.
    ‘I have brought with me some of the stock from Milan, as we have things there that we do not have here in Florence, and also a hairdresser and a make-up artist, since Alessandro tells me your work has meant that you have not been able to visit a proper hairdresser for some months.’
    If by a ‘proper hairdresser’ Cristina meant the kind of hairdresser who charged a fortune and with whom it was impossible to get an appointment, then her ‘some months’ should have been ‘ever,’ Leonora admitted ruefully. It would take more than designer clothes and an expensive haircut to transform her into the kind of woman Alessandro normally dated.
    But then he wasn’t dating her, was he? she reminded herself as she followed Cristina down a long white-walled corridor that curved and then straightened before opening out into a white space furnished with low black chairs and a black table.
    As though by magic two black-suited young women suddenly appeared, folding back a section of the white ‘wall’ to reveal neatly hanging and folded clothes.
    ‘We will start, I think, with the basics. Jeans—which you will need for Sicily, especially if you plan to do any sightseeing around the Etna area—worn with perhaps a blazer and a silk shirt, and some fine knits as an alternative.’
    As Cristina spoke the two girls were removing clothes from the rails and placing them on one of the chairs.
    ‘You will, of course, want to create the right impression when you arrive—you are tall, and so can get away with trousers. I think this pair in neutral cream will be perfect. Here is this cardigan to go with them, and this silver necklace with the matching cuff—very smart. And for the cocktail party I have brought this from Milan.’
    Leonora’s eyes widened as she gazed at the lilac and grey layers of silk chiffon that made up a short dress with a bubble hem and a fitted strapless bodice, and at the neat fitted jacket that was worn over it. It was beautiful—but not for her. She never wore clothes like that. She didn’t have what it took to carry it off.
    Shaking her head, she told Cristina regretfully, ‘It’s lovely, but I don’t think it’s really me.’
    ‘We will try it and see,’ Cristina said, overruling her.
    * * *
    Two hours later, exhausted and bemused, Leonora stood in front of a mirror and caught her breath in disbelief at her own reflection. Her hair was newly cut, in a style that seemed to consist of a mass of shiny sensual layers where once had been a tangle of too-thick curls, and it seemed somehow to emphasise her cheekbones and make her eyes look bigger. Her bare shoulders rose from the silk chiffon cocktail dress, whilst her eyes—thanks to the clever application of make-up—seemed to glow a smoky violet colour. The dress made her look fragile and feminine in a way she had never imagined she could look.
    ‘It is perfect for you,’ Cristina pronounced, looking pleased. ‘I knew it would be when Alessandro described to me your colouring. This gown, and the cream silk satin full-length gown you must also have—you have the perfect figure for them. The jeans also, and the trousers. You have the long legs that look so good in them.’
    Leonora wasn’t going to argue with her. She had never imagined that she could look so good. She even felt confident about wearing the bright acid-yellow cotton sundress that Cristina had insisted was a ‘must’ for sightseeing daywear, along with the pair of skinny-legged jeans which could be rolled up to Capri length. There were also a couple of outrageously expensive T-shirts, along with a gorgeous silk parka in pewter-grey, to tone in with the whites, silvers and greys of her other new ‘casual’ clothes.
    Both evening dresses had their own matching shoes and clutch bags, and she’d been given a make-up lesson to go with the designer cosmetics that were to replace those she had ‘lost in transit.’ She also had