The Skin Thief

Chapter 64

We arrive at the MOD building and Marcus gets out less than a second after he turns off his engine. I scramble to catch up with him, almost tripping as I get out of the car and my heel catches.

Marcus grabs my arm and I stumble into his chest. For a second, I forget about everything as I internally admire how hard his muscular chest is, and how amazing his fresh smelling cologne smells on him. The scents of citrus and pine in addition to the way his arms wrap around me as he helps me straighten up, almost make my knees weak.

I look up into his eyes. His blue-grey orbs stare back down at me, and an amused smile sits on his face. He's so handsome I could melt. I become acutely aware of his hand still resting on my arm. I can feel each one of his fingers on my skin and it sends shivers running down my spine.

"Thank you," I reply, smiling confidently as though I'm not completely embarrassed by my fumble. I'm just glad I'm wearing enough foundation to hide my blush.

"Perhaps try not to fall like that in front of the big boss," he jokes. I roll my eyes and step away from him.

"I won't, I promise," I reply and adjust my dress before running a hand through my hair. "Right, I think I'm ready."

"Come on, let's go," he says and gestures for me to follow him. As we walk through the car park toward the lift, Marcus talks about the man we are about to meet.

"His name is Curtis Manstyn and he's a tough man to impress." Marcus presses a button on the lift and the doors open. We step inside and he swipes his card on a scanner before holding his thumb to a black screen. It scans it and only then can he press a button marked for the top floor.

I let out a shaky breath. I'm meeting the head of Military Intelligence to help solve an assassination that I committed. My head spins as I try and comprehend that.

I'm meeting this realm's version of Mr. Day. He can't be scarier than Mr. Day, right?

"How should I address him? Does he have a special name or title?" I ask, my mouth dry from nerves.

"You should call him Commander," he tells me. I nod my head and play wipe my clammy hands on my dress.

"Don't be nervous, Ivy," he assures me. "You are a very intelligent and bright young woman. I'm sure he'll be as impressed with you as I am."

Hearing his complement sends a giddy rush through me and I bite my lip to stop myself from grinning.

"I've already shown him your file and he was the one who approved your continuous work for me after the incident with Serena's father. He already knows you exist, now you just have to impress him in person."

"And my looks are a major part of that?" I ask, gesturing to my dress and recalling his request for me to dress up.

"There is a certain image he wants for those who work for him. Why do you think I wear suits like this all the time?" he chuckles. "He's looking for the type of person who exudes confidence, power, and professionalism."

I look down at my dress and straighten it once more. "Well, I already feel the part," I say and shift on my feet nervously. Thankfully, with how much I've been wearing heels, my feet feel numb to the pain of standing and walking while wearing stilettos.

Plus, there is something powerful about a woman in a suit and heels. I remember the way people used to look at my mother when she wore her red dress and blazer. Power and authority used to radiate off her.

"Clothes are a powerful weapon in a woman's arsenal. It is a weapon that is often overlooked. Clothes are what shapes someone's first opinion of you and first impressions can be the difference between getting what you want or not."