Designing Passion

by Kali Willows

  In one swift motion, he flung his bags across the massive, king-sized bed. Rifling through his things, he mumbled under his breath. “Business before pleasure. I can’t believe she knows what he’s—” He stripped down on his way to the bathroom and stopped short of the doorway, marveling at the inviting steam shower with multi-directional massaging jets. Oh, this was a sacrifice he could force himself to make, for a “well-meaning comrade”.

  ***

  The drive up the winding road revealed a hint of the breathtaking scenery.

  “Oh my God, it’s a castle, Tawny, and right on the water.”

  “Thanks for the play by play.” Watching the view of the sea allowed her to avoid eye contact; hiding her fear had become a daunting task.

  “Oh, stop being such a poop.” Laura opened the window, letting the warm air flow through the back seat and across their faces. The ocean breeze teased strands from the confines of Tawny’s hair clip.

  As they pulled up to the front door, she admired the soothing, trickling of the cascading water fountain. She canvassed the magnificent array of colorful and fragrant flower beds, and nodded to two liveried porters.

  “Good evening, ladies, and welcome to Casa del Castillo.” The smiling older gentleman waiting by the entrance held out his hand to assist Tawny out of the car.

  “Wow.” Stunned, she followed her belongings on the porters’ rolling rack into the hotel, unable to mask her astonishment at the glorious castle.

  ***

  “Well, Tawny, I guess this is it?”

  “Separate suites—I thought we’d be in the same room.” Unable to hide her frown, she burrowed through her purse for a tip.

  “Well, duh, did you really think we would share a room for—the whole trip?”

  “Ugh!”

  “Okay, sorry You’re touchy today.”

  “Ms. Reeve, we are ready to take you to your suite.”

  “Thank you.” She followed the uniformed man, trying to hide the moisture spilling down her cheeks.

  “Wait a minute,” Laura commanded from behind her.

  Tawny stopped, staring straight ahead, discreetly wiping away the wetness on the sleeve of her teal silk blouse.

  “You forgot your itinerary, dear.” Laura’s smug tone irked her, and she held out her hand. She’d set it down on a table in her dismay.

  “You’re gonna have a great time, and so will I. Here’s my room number. Call me when you get settled in; we can grab a bite to eat. My itinerary shows nothing scheduled tonight.” Laura rubbed Tawny’s shoulders with quick but tender hands.

  “Fine.” She walked briskly to the elevator still trying to hold back the rushing wave of frustration and sadness that overtook her chest.

  ***

  Tawny tipped the man and locked the door as he left. In an instant, she tore the camel envelope open and inspected the itinerary.

  “Spa treatments? Hair salon? Esthetician? Costume shop…masquerade ball?”

  The list overwhelmed her until she reached the nine p.m. time slot: Meet your match under the rose covered chandelier at the ball. He will be holding a white orchid.

  Tawny had never experienced hyperventilation before, but her inability to catch her breath and fast-paced gasping clued her in. Clutching the envelope and papers in her hand, she rushed to the chaise and sat down, reaching for the phone. Her trembling fingers fumbled for the right numbers.

  “Laura? Oh God, I can’t do this.”

  ***

  The tea had grown cold before she swallowed the last of the herbal brew.

  “Are you any better now?”

  Still somewhat slumped over, Tawny placed the cup down on the antique table and settled back into the posh, purple armchair.

  “Yes, I know I’m a pain. I’m sorry; it became so real all of the sudden. Seeing the time and place and picturing….”

  “Believe it or not, I had a similar reaction when I read mine. Mind you, I didn’t almost pass out from lack of oxygen.” Laura’s light-hearted laughter was a welcome sound.

  “I guess I did overreact, a little. Wait, you have the same itinerary?” A rush of hope flowed through her.

  “Oh, no honey, I’m meeting my—date, on the lanai at seven p.m .for a romantic dinner for two by the outdoor fireplace; wine, roses, and a night of earth-shattering sex.” Laura’s brows rose and a crinkle formed between them while her lips curled up at the sides.

  “Uh, your list said earth-shattering sex?”

  “No, of course not. It said evening rendezvous.” She clasped her hands together with fidgety fingers intertwining. “Okay, shall we order room service? Or brave the five-star restaurant downstairs? I hear they have an incredible lobster bisque.”

  “I can be ready in twenty minutes.”

  ***

  Relaxing into the comfortable leather chair, she forced herself to remember how much she’d wanted to resist enjoying the extras Laura had requested for her. She hadn’t planned on a makeover, but she sat at the mercy of a comb and a sweet, flamboyant Spanish stylist. The fact that Tawny willingly confided in him her reason for being on the island and the unusual circumstances of her date left her surprised at her candid honesty. Was it the relaxing sensation of his soothing fingers massaging the fragrant shampoo in her hair, or his sweet disposition and his enthusiasm at the details of her soon-to-be sordid interlude? Either way, she began to enjoy herself and unwind a little.

  “Sweetheart, you have lovely hair, but we must tidy it up. We haven’t been trimming nor treating it, have we? Oh, but I have an exquisite style for you. A little bit off here and there, some texture, frame your gorgeous face, and voila!” His expressive hands cradled and primped while he stood behind her demonstrating his creative vision.

  She found it difficult to be annoyed with his enthusiasm, finding it touched a long buried part of her girlish soul. She’d avoided being the center of attention since her desolate teens. Her prolonged residency at the dreadful boarding school had taken care of any center stage tendencies she had a long time ago.

  With hesitation, she winced at the mirror’s image of him holding up lengths of her dark hair, clipping and trimming what seemed to be inches off. The wet, freshly cut strands hung, cradling her face and shoulders. Next, the loud, hot dryer, as he pulled and straightened her wavy locks. “You did a great job, Alejandro. Thank you.” Tawny admired the sheen and the shapely cut. It hadn’t occurred to her how straggly she had allowed her hair to become. Somehow, the new cut seemed to perk up her enthusiasm—a little.

  “Oh darling, we aren’t done quite yet, we’ll arrange an elegant up-do to go with your masquerade costume.”

  “I haven’t got a costume yet.”

  “Oh, but you do, and wait until you see yourself in it! Divine!”

  His excitement compensated for her lack of eagerness for the time being.

  “A little more luster, and, oh, perfection.” Alejandro posed beside her in the mirror, admiring both their reflections.

  “Now, my darling, off to Dulce for manicure, pedicure, oh and let’s not forget the waxing—”

  “Waxing?”

  ***

  “Did you enjoy your brunch, my friend?” Jackson dabbed the corners of his mouth with the russet linen then flung it onto the table.

  Settling back into his chair, Wyatt adjusted his pants button. “An incredible meal.” Heaving a sigh, he looked up and stiffened then drew back. “Uh—excuse me, Leah; I almost forgot where I was.”

  “It’s not a problem, Wyatt.” The stunning blonde grinned and snuggled closer to her husband.

  “Jackson, let’s talk about the design you want for the Rio hotel. You want it similar to this—castle?”

  “A remarkable concept, isn’t it?” His dark eyes lit up as he leaned forward, speaking in a hushed voice.

  “It’s great, but the prelims were more—modern, I thought you said this was on the right track?”

  “You’re a high-concept designing genius; I know you can make it work. Some hi
story, renaissance, exotic structure with more modern appeal to the vacationing population.”

  “Okay, but the site I scouted out in Rio had no structure in place. Are we building the hotel from scratch?”

  “Actually Wyatt, that’s the intriguing part. About twenty miles down the coastline you plotted out for me lies the remains of a 1715 fortress.”

  “Yes, I remember it. I drove down and explored the ruins.”

  “I had a feeling you would have. So you can envision the fortress before it fell to ruin?”

  “Breathtaking, yes.” Catching onto Jackson’s train of thought, Wyatt grinned. “So just as this hotel is modeled after the ruins on the island, the Rio resort will take its inspiration from that structure.

  “I knew you would understand.” Giving an animated nod, he turned to Leah. “You see, darling, I told you, all I need is to start the vision, and Wyatt can bring it to life.” A triumphant smile lit his face as he put his arm around his lady and squeezed her tight.

  “I’ve emailed the pictures and specs, to you. Rebuilding the old structure in its resting place isn’t feasible, but recreating the historic design, incorporated with your unique and extravagant construction plans, will make it the most revered hotel in the world.”

  Nodding and serious, Wyatt pulled out his planner and started jotting down a few things.

  “You have inspiration now, right?” Jackson leaned toward him.

  “Without a doubt.” He continued writing.

  “Then perhaps, my friend, you can tuck these ideas away for a night or two, do some more exploring of this castle and get further inspired.” Jackson pulled at the still sealed envelope sticking out of Wyatt’s planner.

  “Oh, yeah, I—uh—yeah.” Embarrassment returned as he shot a cautious glance at Leah.

  “Have you read your itinerary yet?”

  “Uh—no—”

  “It’s okay, she knows.” Jackson’s amused laughter filled the air, furthering Wyatt’s horror.

  “Oh, God.” Hiding his humiliation in the palms of his hands, he shook his head in disbelief.

  “Wyatt, please don’t be embarrassed; it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” The tenderness of her sweet voice forced his gaze back to her. “That’s actually how Jackson and I met.”

  “Oh? Oh.” Wyatt caught on.

  “It’s a long story, but Madame Eve knows her business.”

  “What does she have planned for you. Wyatt? Eve is surprisingly magical in her matchmaking abilities.” Glancing at Jackson, Leah squeezed his hand.

  “Well, I—we don’t need to….”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean about the intimate part, but about the place you’ll meet?”

  With no dignity left to lose, Wyatt tore the envelope open. Examining the paper, he looked up, bewildered. “A masquerade?”

  “Oh, yes!” Her sudden animation caught him by surprise. “We’re hosting an extravagant gala tonight. Renaissance inspired. The ballroom will be bursting at the seams with masks and roses.” Leah motioned with waving hands at the workers rolling carts of boxes into the back of the room. “We’re having champagne and dancing, and it’s a full moon tonight, expected to be a clear, cool evening where we can dance under the stars.” Her dreamy expression revealed her starry-eyed aspirations for this event.

  “Wyatt? You look so serious. Is there a problem?” Jackson queried.

  Jaw tensing, Wyatt worked to appear devoid of emotion. “I don’t understand. If this is just a one-night stand, why go through all the motions? Why so much build up for someone I’m never gonna see again.”

  “You’re thinking too much. The idea is to have fun, a good time with no strings attached and no worries. We’ll be there, in costume, if you need moral support.” The robust chortle divulged Jackson’s lack of sympathy to his distress.

  “What my husband is trying to say—” Leah interceded, grabbing Jackson’s hand and squeezing a little, “—is that the mystery of meeting a masked stranger for a discreet rendezvous could make things more interesting, don’t you think? You work hard, Wyatt. A little fun, anonymity, a little adventure is a good thing.”

  Squirming in his seat under her dissecting gaze, he couldn’t deny her point. She presented the same challenge, adventure. Damn.

  “I guess you’re right, Leah. I know I seem ungrateful, it’s just, well—” He hated surrendering, “—where do I get a costume?” Sinking into his seat, he gave in to her.

  “My understanding is that Eve has already taking care of everything for you. Let’s go see my friend, Isabel, and get you all set up” Leah stood up, held out her hands for both men and escorted them out of the restaurant.

  ***

  The entrance to the ballroom was swathed with red roses and hung with an array of elegant masks. The foyer and ballroom glimmered with hundreds of candles. The air was perfumed with the fragrance of the blooms. The intoxicating aroma lifted her spirits and heightened her anticipation of what was about to transpire. Almost enough to distract Tawny from the exceptional panic that consumed her—almost.

  Frozen on the spot, she stood at the entrance of the masquerade, unable to enter. Her shortness of breath returned. At first, she suspected her form-fitting corset provided the catalyst, but taking a quick inventory, she concluded its comfort level sufficient. No, the violent butterflies that wreaked havoc in her stomach had to be the culprits.

  In another moment of doubt, she stepped backward as masked couples in costume passed by, entering the gala. Tawny scouted out the vast, bronzed mirror along the foyer wall, stepped in front of it, and stood in awe. The black and lavender gown with its magnificent layers of lavish purple materials and trims of black lace was quite extraordinary. The bodice accentuated the deep, squared neckline that cradled her breasts, showing more of them than she was completely comfortable revealing.

  Okay Tawny, stop being such a coward. You can do this. With a deep exhale, she gathered her courage, secured her mauve and black lace mask to conceal her identity, and strolled into the ballroom.

  Her shoes and costume were amazingly comfortable; the regal brocade dress weighty but luxurious. The jacquard silk chemise caressed her bare, silky-smooth thighs. She’d even discarded traditional pantyhose in favor of lavender garters that held sheer silken hose snugly in place.

  “Senorita Reeve, please allow me to escort you.” A gentleman held out his arm, waiting for her to accept. At the familiar voice, she perused his powdered white wig and gold and fuchsia mask. A smile emerged when she realized his identity.

  “Alejandro!” A sense of relief washed over her. He knew her secret, too, after her afternoon chatting in the comfort of his salon; she had already surpassed that embarrassment. Now she didn’t feel completely alone. The journey to meeting her match came with yet another perk.

  “Darling, look at you, I knew this costume and hairstyle would be exquisite. You look elegant, and sensual.” His Spanish accent added to Tawny’s enjoyment of his flattery.

  “It’s a good thing I’m wearing a mask, or you might see me blush, sir.” A nervous giggle slipped out at the appearance of his mischievous grin.

  The ballroom looked vast but charming. The pale yellow, flickering glow of the candles intensified the sheer enchantment of the evening. The cool, salty taste of the ocean air drifted into the room, drawing her attention to the open glass doors facing the sea.

  “Would you like to see the lanai before the sun sets, Tawny?”

  “The lanai?” Recollection of Laura’s evening plans sparked her curiosity. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of them. To her dismay, she had forgotten to put on her watch, and scanned the room for a clock. Seeing none, she turned to her chaperone.

  “Alejandro, what time is it?”

  “It is eight forty-five; there are still a few minutes of light left.” He ushered her across the room past the gathering congregation of masked revelers. The classical music in the background grew a little louder, muffling the chatter.

  The cool breeze swept her loos
e curls across her neck as she stepped over the threshold to the lanai. A few clouds rolled by, parting and revealed the sunset at the edge of the waterline. In awe, Tawny walked to the concrete banister that led to spiraling stone steps off to the side. A glance across the sea bestowed the breathtaking vision of the endless azure waters brimming with the reddish-orange glow of the setting sun. The curling waves cascaded along the shore as she observed the sedate ambiance of the talc sand.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful. If nothing else comes of tonight, at least this is a memory I can cherish.” A feeling of serenity washed over her. Elicited by the view, the costume, the anonymity of the evening? Or was she actually starting to enjoy herself?

  “Tawny, darling, it’s almost time.” The excitement in his voice brought the reality of the moment crashing to the surface again.

  She glanced around for Laura, wishing for moral support. Tawny’s eyes darted up and down the stone walkway to a small table for two placed near an outdoor fireplace.

  In a panic, she raced to the shimmering light of the fire, only to find the table abandoned with drained wine glasses and half-eaten pasta the only sign of its recent occupancy. The tapered candles sputtered in the gentle wind. Laura had already gone, and the time to meet her date had come. A dash of nausea overwhelmed her for a moment.

  “It’s nearly nine, Ms. Reeve; will you join me in a toast?” Alejandro escorted her back through the door, stealing away two bubbling champagne flutes from a passing server.

  “A toast?”

  “Yes, to a remarkable evening and an exquisite lady.” Placing the glass in her hand, he raised his, gently clinking them together.