BedroomEyes

by Desiree Holt

  “Maybe nobody told you, sugar, but there’s no sun out right now.” He made a show of looking up at the sky. “Actually, I think it’s pretty dark.”

  “I, uh, have a problem with my eyes. That’s why I always keep the glasses on.”

  Why didn’t I wait and make sure he wasn’t out here? I’ve always avoided him at night just for this reason.

  “Oh.” His face sobered instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay.” She waved it off. “No problem.”

  “So, how’s life treating you these days?” he asked, leaning one hip against his can.

  “Not bad.” Terrible. “How about you?”

  “You know.” He shrugged. “Same old, same old.”

  “How long you home for this time?”

  Bridget knew Clay was a SEAL, often deployed on missions for weeks at a time. He’d bought the house for the same reason she’d purchased hers—to have some permanence and stability in his life. Bridget figured she’d probably never have a home of her own otherwise and apartment living had just gotten too old for her. Clay said he wanted a place to unwind that was all his. A place where he could put down roots. Do whatever he wanted.

  Every so often she’d see a woman in the backyard with him, or sitting beside him in his car as he backed out of the driveway. Tall, leggy brunettes and redheads, with typically classic good looks. The sound of their intimate laughter was a knife straight to her heart, because she knew she’d never share those kinds of moments with him. She dreaded the day he brought a wife home with him and she was forced to watch them wrapped in a haze of happiness and sexual satisfaction.

  “Well.” She wiped her suddenly damp palms on her shorts. “I’d better go in.”

  “Me too. Big night tomorrow night.” But he made a faced as he said it.

  “You don’t look like it’s too big. Or that you’re too happy about it.”

  He shrugged. “My team captain happens to live in San Antonio too, just by coincidence, and his wife is involved in some big charitable ball that’s going down tomorrow night. The one that kicks off Fiesta. He made everyone on the team who lives around here buy a ticket. Not only that, he insists that we have to go.”

  And of course he’ll be going with a gorgeous piece of arm candy.

  “Surely your date will keep you from being too miserable.” There. That was the right casual tone, wasn’t it?

  “No date.” He ran a palm over his hair. “No one I could ask to rent a costume and dress up for a masquerade. Bad enough I have to do it myself.”

  “No gorgeous babe hanging around these days?” She hated herself for asking the question, no matter how casual she tried to make it.

  His laugh was humorless. “Not lately. Must be losing my charm. Or maybe it’s just that I’m starting to lose interest in all show and no go. I’ll just guts it out.”

  Bridget nodded but both her mind and her heart were racing. She knew all about the masquerade. Joni’s boss was also on the committee and Joni had been pestering Bridget for weeks to buy a ticket. The cheapest ones were a hundred bucks, though, and not something Bridget wanted to dig into her stash to buy.

  But Clay was going without a date. Well, well, well. An outrageous idea was percolating wildly in her brain.

  “So I guess you’ve got your costume then?”

  “Yeah.” Lines of displeasure grooved his cheeks. “Thank god at least most of my face will be covered so there’s no chance anyone will recognize me.”

  Bridget cocked her head, all kinds of possibilities suddenly speed-racing through her brain. “You have a full face mask?”

  He nodded. “In a manner of speaking. I’m going as a pirate. Figured that wasn’t too embarrassing. Got a scarf thing to wrap over my head and a big black mask that matches it over my eyes.”

  A pirate. Bridget filed that piece of information away in her mind.

  “Women love pirates.” She hoped her tone was casual enough. “They’ll probably be hanging all over you.”

  Clay snorted. “I doubt it. The women who show up at these things seldom come alone and the ones that do aren’t worth the price of a drink.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night you’ll be surprised.” She wet her lips. “Tell you what. I’ll make a bet with you.”

  “A bet?”

  “Uh-huh. I predict you’ll meet a mysterious woman. She won’t even tell you her real name. She’ll tempt you and tease you and make you want to sweep her off her feet.”

  Clay’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “That right? You guaranteeing it?”

  “I said I’d bet with you, didn’t I?” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts, waiting tensely for his answer. “Well? You gonna put your money where your mouth is?”

  He laughed. “Okay. A bet. Loser buys dinner.”

  “You’re on.” She held out her hand.

  Clay’s grip was firm and warm. Bridget had expected that, but she hadn’t been prepared for the jolt of electricity that sizzled up her arm and through her body. She pulled her hand back quickly, doing her best to ignore the gleam of mischief in Clay’s eyes.

  “I certainly hope so,” he teased.

  Bridget’s cheeks turned hot. This was just harmless flirting, something Clay probably did as naturally as he breathed. But for her this was a scarce commodity. Once men got a look at her eyes all flirting was off the table.

  “I-I have to go.” She hurried up the driveway, calling over her shoulder, “Good luck. And I expect a full report.”

  “If it turns out the way you predict,” he answered, “don’t look for too many details.”

  If only this works.

  ”Confession time day after tomorrow, okay? We’ll meet over the fence.”

  “Only long enough so I can tell you where I want you to take me for dinner. Get ready for an expensive meal.”

  “We’ll see. Night, now.”

  She nearly ran into the house, her mind racing. She might never realize her goal of introducing herself in public as a published author but she at least had the possibility of one night with the man who filled her dreams. And one night was better than none.

  Joni would surely still be awake. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d called. Bridget’s hand was shaking so much as her plan took shape she had to make two tries at dialing the number. Then she nearly stumbled over her words telling her friend why she was calling.

  “You want to do what?” Joni’s voice sounded shocked at Bridget’s request.

  “You heard me. I want to buy a ticket to the masquerade ball. Do you still have any left?”

  “Masquerade ball?” Joni sounded stupefied. “The one tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.” Bridget almost shouted the word. “What’s the problem? You’ve been pestering the shit out of me to spend my hard-earned money on this for days. Now that I’m saying yes you act like I’m out of my mind.”

  “Yes. No. I mean…”Joni’s voice trailed off. “It’s just that this is definitely not your usual thing. I know I asked you about buying a ticket but honestly, Bridget. Don’t take this the wrong way but I really didn’t expect you to say yes. And if you did, I didn’t think you’d go.”

  “Of course not. Why would I?” Bridget swallowed the automatic resentment. This was no time to get testy. “So can I meet you for breakfast and get a ticket? I’ll even buy.”

  “Is something going on here I don’t know about?” Joni demanded.

  “Listen,” Bridget pleaded. “Just this one time can you do something for me without the third degree? Do you have a ticket left and can I get it from you in the morning?”

  Joni’s sigh echoed all the way through the connection. “Sure. Okay. Bennie’s Bagels at eight? That’ll still give us time to get to work.”

  Bridget paused. “I’m a taking a personal day tomorrow.”

  “You’re not going into work?” Joni was nearly shrieking. “Something’s definitely up. Give me details in the morning and you can have the ticket for free.�
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  “We’ll see. Just be there at eight.”

  She hung up before Joni could pester her with anything else. Back at her computer she pulled up the yellow pages for the city and did a search for costume houses and costume stores. Printing out the list, she circled the most accessible ones, folded the sheet and tucked it into her purse. No one would be open until at least nine but by then for sure she’d be rid of Joni. Tomorrow would be a busy, busy day.

  She closed her eyes and ran over her mental list.

  Costume.

  Hair.

  Mani-pedi.

  Wax job.

  And then the ball.

  This was going to cost her a fortune, but if it worked out it would be so worth it. She’d have one wonderful night of memories to hug tightly for a long time.

  Bridget knew this could all blow up in her face but she had to do it. No question about it. She tried to tamp down the thrill of excitement wriggling through her. But if she was very, very careful, she could end up with the night of her life.

  Chapter Two

  Bridget was desperately trying to control the worst case of nerves she’d had in her entire life. She’d decided to take a taxi rather than drive herself. But when the cab pulled up in front of her house she almost sent it away.

  Coward.

  Okay, yes. She was definitely that. But then she took one last look at herself in the mirror. Blonde hair piled artfully on top of her head and secured with rhinestone-studded sticks. Makeup flawlessly applied, although ninety percent of her face was concealed behind a red satin mask with wings at the eyes and decorated with sequins. Her body, waxed in all the important places, was laced into a red satin ball gown that flowed from her hips in a wide circle. And beneath it the most sinfully sexy red lingerie she’d ever worn in her life. All of it sprayed discreetly with Decadence, a new scent she’d purchased.

  She’d had a couple of moments of hesitation, the first one at breakfast that morning when Joni insisted on filling out a form and giving her a receipt for the ticket.

  “Can’t I just give you the cash and you give me the ticket?” she asked. No way did she want her name listed anywhere if she could avoid it.

  Joni shook her head. “That’s not the way they do it. The rules of the ball say everyone gets a receipt because it’s a charitable deduction and it also helps compile a master list. One the committee can use each year to get repeat attendees.” When she saw Bridget frown she quickly added, “You don’t have to go again. Really. I’m not even sure why you’re going now. And if they contact you next year just toss the reminder. But my mother will kill me if I break the rules.”

  The second stumbling block came when she made her appointment at the salon. Everyone would be looking at her. She’d finally insisted she had to keep the tinted glasses on and despite the curiosity she’d managed to get through it all.

  Because in the end she’d had little choice if she wanted to go through with this. One night of hot sex with Clay Randall. If she could find the right pirate in the crowd. If her seduction worked. And if—big if here—she could get away without losing herself completely.

  So here she was, about to attend the first event like this in her thirty-one years. No one could see her face. No one could mock her. She’d be a mysterious woman who looked beautiful behind her disguise. For one night he would be hers. She could even delude herself into thinking he was in love with her. A memory to cherish for a lot of years, even as she watched him with the ever-changing parade of eye candy.

  Okay. Deep breath. Now or never, kiddo.

  Still, all the way to the hotel her heart beat erratically and she kept wiping her palms with the lace-edged hankie she was holding. Of course there was a traffic jam at entrance to the hotel and the cab had to wait its turn to pull into place. A uniformed valet attendant opened the cab door for her and helped her out. Which was a good thing because she wasn’t used to moving in this kind of voluminous skirt.

  Reaching into a deep pocket of the dress she pulled out a tiny purse and fished out money for the driver. Then she drew a deep breath, let it out slowly and pushed through the glass door into the immense lobby.

  People in costume were everywhere, a steady flow heading toward the elevators and escalators. Including a fair number of pirates. Oh, lord. How was she supposed to recognize Clay? She should have gotten a better description of his particular costume. Moving carefully she made her way to the escalator, too impatient for the long wait at the elevator. In the wide gallery in front of the ballroom the crowd was even more jammed together, the noise level rising. And from behind the closed doors of the ballroom she could hear the strains of the orchestra.

  Men in tuxedos were stationed at each door and when she approached one he smiled and said, “Ticket please.”

  Nervously she pulled the small square of rich cardboard from her pocket and handed it to him.

  “Enjoy yourself, madame. There are several bars set up around the room and you may sit at any table that does not have a reservation sign.”

  Sit. At a table. Bridget hadn’t even thought about that. It wasn’t a dinner, just dessert and drinks, so she’d just figured everyone would be standing around drinking or dancing. Well, no worries. She’d be spending most of her time looking for Clay.

  But looking around she realized just how difficult that might be. The huge ballroom was jammed but not too many people were sitting. They were either lined up at the bar, gathered in small groups or on the dance floor. The music was something Latin and people were throwing their hips into it.

  Bridget managed to squeak up to one bar and finally get a glass of wine, gulping half of it to bolster her flagging courage. How on earth had she imagined she’d be able to find Clay in this mob, much less set out to seduce him?

  Then she turned and bumped squarely into a tall, muscular pirate. He might be completely masked but she’d know that aftershave anywhere. Clean and earthy at the same time. She’d inhaled it enough times when she’d chatted with him before he left on one date or another.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, steadying her with his hands at her elbows.

  “No, my fault.” She pitched her voice lower than normal. Not that she figured Clay would recognize it anyway. She was just Next Door Bridget, unremarkable to him in any way. He probably dropped her from his mind the minute she pulled away from his house. She dabbed at his silk shirt with the tiny bar napkin.

  “Don’t worry about it.” His deep voice cut through the music and hubbub. “It’s probably only the first of many tonight.”

  Okay, Reilly. Do what you came here to do.

  “I hope your wife or date won’t be upset that your shirt’s wet.”

  “No wife, no date. How about you?”

  Yes! He was actually showing some interest!

  She shook her head. “Just me. By myself.”

  Am I making it too obvious? But I just have tonight. I can’t afford to waste time.

  “The men in this city must be nuts if they weren’t standing in line to escort you tonight.”

  She laughed, wondering if she sounded as slightly hysterical to him as she did to herself, and sipped more wine to calm herself. “I really just came tonight as a favor to a friend.”

  As they’d been talking he’d maneuvered her away from the bar and out of the line of traffic to a nearby corner.

  “There,” he said, when they were away from the press of the crowd. “At least we won’t get run over. So where’s the friend you’re doing a favor for? How come he isn’t with you?”

  “She will be here later.” And I’d better be out of the ballroom by then, although there’s no way she’ll recognize me in this outfit.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “She?”

  “Um-hum. And I’m pretty sure she has her own plans for the evening. I wouldn’t even have come tonight but I hated to buy the ticket and waste the money.”

  He plucked her wineglass from her fingers and set it on the nearest table.

  “Since we’ve c
leared up that there’s no he involved, I think we should dance.”

  “Dance?” God, she sounded like an idiot.

  “Yes.” His lips, the only part of his face that was visible, curved in a sensuous smile. “You know. Bodies moving to music. Come on.”

  Before she realized it they were on the dance floor, the orchestra was playing something slow and dreamy and she was finally in Clay Randall’s arms. And oh god, it felt so very, very good. His body was so hard, his muscles like stone. His arm around her was a band of steel and he held her close enough that she could feel the hot length of his cock even through all the layers of their clothing. She wanted to rub herself all over him like a cat.

  Clay bent his head so his mouth was close to her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the conversation and music. “If you aren’t here with a date or your friend you’re doing a favor for, won’t you be pretty bored?”

  Bridget wet her lips. Now or never. No time to waste. I can do this, right?

  “I came to have an adventure.”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her. “Yeah? What kind of adventure?”

  She tucked her head into his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll meet a dashing pirate and run off with him for the night.”

  His arm around her tensed and the hand that was holding hers tightened. “Really. But you’ve already met the pirate, right?”

  “Um, yes, so it seems.” Her heart was pounding so hard with nerves she was sure he could feel it.

  “Or are you still looking?” His tone was light. Teasing. But also definitely questioning.

  And the arm wrapped around her lowered enough so his hand swept lightly over the curve of her ass. Every hormone in her body jumped to life and surged through her system.

  “That depends on you.” The music came to an end and she let him lead her back to their spot against the wall.

  “How so?”

  “Well, if I can seduce you then I can stop looking for pirates. Right?”

  Even with the mask covering most of his face his eyes were still visible through the slits. When he looked at her she saw surprise in them. “You don’t waste much time, do you?”