He succeeded in doing both.
"We'll pick up this little discussion later," he said, and walked away whistling happily.
I blew out a breath, then opened the door and walked inside. Rhoan and Liander were making out against one of the stall walls.
"You want me to come back later?" I asked dryly.
Rhoan came up for air, and gave me a wide grin. "Your timing could have been better, but this will keep."
"You sure?"
"No, but Jack will kill us if we delay more than necessary." He squeezed Liander's rump then stepped away.
Liander's gaze met mine, amusement silvering the gray depths. "Besides, making you up is almost as much fun as making out."
"You obviously lead a sad sex life."
"Well, your brother could use a pointer or two, but hey, he's not untrainable."
Rhoan crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Careful what you say, or I might just take this unworthy body elsewhere."
Liander snorted. "You do anyway."
"Now, boys," I interrupted, feeling an argument headed our way. "Work first, lovers' tiff afterward."
"No," Rhoan corrected, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Work first, then sex, then lovers' tiff. Get your priorities right, please."
"Sorry," I said dryly. "So, have we decided what sort of look we're going for this time?" The last time we'd done this, I'd become an albino prostitute. Not the sort of look one needed for an upmarket function.
Liander tossed me a small bottle of lavender fluid. "Go shower with that first. It'll erase your base scent for the next twelve hours."
Relief ran through me as I headed for the showers. At least if the wolf that had used me in the breeding center was there, my scent wouldn't give me away. Once I'd washed, I sat in the chair Liander had swiped from one of the offices, and let him loose.
"Quinn has been photographed with a parade of smoldering, brown-haired beauties in the past," Liander explained, as he began to recolor skin and hair, "so that's the look we're going for here."
"And will this goop wash out easily?" I asked, watching with a faint sense of horror as my red-gold hair became a chocolaty, hazelnut color.
"Yes. Trust me."
I did trust him, but that didn't stop the dismay. I mean, I loved my hair. Loved its color. Watching it become brown was more than a little disturbing.
But it was amazing the difference hair color, blue contacts, and a bit of fancy makeup made. It wasn't me in that mirror. It was someone else. Someone suitably smoldering enough to hang off a billionaire playboy's arm.
"Wow," Rhoan said, which was basically what I was thinking.
"We haven't finished yet." Liander's expression was pleased as he held up a scrap of vibrant red material. "Now the dress."
I gave him a deadpan look. "That is not a dress. That's a tube of fabric."
"This tube is the very latest in evening wear, and costs a sheer fortune."
"That doesn't make me like it any more."
"You'll look stunning in it."
"I'll look like a damn beacon. People will have to wear sunglasses to look at me."
Liander grinned. "We want people to look at you. We want people to admire that glorious body of yours, and not look any deeper."
I raised an eyebrow, a faint grin twitching my lips. "Glorious body? I thought you ate on the other side of the fence? What's with the sudden appreciation of the female form?"
"I may eat on the other side, as you say, but that doesn't mean I can't admire a luscious female form like yours." He lightly slapped my arm. "Stop fussing and stand up."
I did. He showed me two white cups. "Breast supports. They'll lift as well as support, and give your beautiful bounty even more prominence."
"Like I need that," I said dryly, as he lifted my boobs and slipped the supports into place.
"The more they ogle your assets, the less they ogle your face," Rhoan said with a grin. "For once, this is a good thing."
"Says the male of the species who never has to put up with men talking to their breasts rather than their face."
"There are advantages to being a male."
Like not being stripped down and rebuilt by your brother's lover. Liander handed me the so-called dress.
"What, no undies?"
"We do not need ugly panty lines with this dress."
I raised an eyebrow. "Not even ugly G-string lines?"
It was his turn to give me "the look." I grinned and wiggled into the dress. It fit like a glove, covering me breast to thigh, and left an almost indecent amount of flesh on show. "I am going to be the laughingstock of this function."
"You're going to have them drooling." Liander stepped back, his expression that of an artist studying his masterpiece. "Tug the hem down a shade more."
"Do you want my boobs all the way out?"
He grinned faintly. "No, though you have to admit, it'd definitely stop anyone recognizing your face."
The dress stayed right where it was. Half an inch more, and my nipples would be waving hello to the world. "Shoes?"
He handed me a pair of strappy, four-inch stilettos. "My favorite type," I said, running my finger down the wooden spike of the heel. "Red and ready to use."
Liander grinned. "They're becoming quite a fashion statement—though I doubt if anyone has quite cottoned on to your special use yet."
"Thank God. I'd hate to have to find another innocuous weapon."
Once I got them on, I turned and studied myself in the mirror. If smoldering sexiness was the look we'd been going for, then we'd achieved the right effect.
"What about my voice?"
"Modulators will fix that. Open wide."
I did, and he inserted the extremely thin plastic chips on either side of my mouth. The surface of the modulators were supposedly covered with an analgesic that deadened the skin as they went in. In theory, anyway. In practice, it felt like he was ripping out teeth rather than shoving in plastic. At least once they were attached, I couldn't actually feel them. And no one else would, either, unless I decided to deep throat someone.
"Those things always hurt going in," I said, when I could, amazed by the sound of my new voice.
"Stop being a baby," Liander commented, "and say the alphabet, so I know they're working properly."
The alphabet had never sounded so sexy, let me tell you. "What about a coat? Or are you intending to freeze me to death in the name of perfection?"
"Believe me, with the heat that'll be following you, you won't need a coat." He held up a hand, forestalling my protests. "I do, however, have one for you."
He handed it to me. Thankfully is was black, not eye-blinding red. I slipped it on and did up the buttons. No sense in giving Quinn a heart attack, especially when he hadn't yet decided whether he could continue a relationship on my terms.
"One final item," Rhoan added, offering me a small bag. "Clothes to change into after you leave the function."
"I certainly don't want Misha thinking I got dressed up specially for him," I muttered, accepting the bag gratefully.
Liander looked at his watch. "Time to go." He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "If this doesn't blow your reluctant vampire's mind apart, I don't know what will."
I looked at Rhoan. "Have you been discussing my love life again?"
"Well, it is more exciting than mine at the moment. I mean, vampires, a horse-shifter, alpha wolves—"
"An alpha wolf?" Liander interrupted, and punched me lightly in the arm. "You go, girl!"
I grinned. "Believe me, I intend to."
Someone knocked on the door. "Riley?" Jack said. "You ready? We need to get moving."
"Coming." I kissed my brother. "You be careful out there."
"Right back at you. And remember, don't ever trust Misha. He's playing his own game, and, as yet, we have no idea what the rules are."
"I'll remember." I threw the bag over my shoulder, and headed for the door.