Lori Foster - Impetuous

Good grief. A crush! No, she didn’t. Certainly not.

Carlie was shaking her head at her errant thoughts, even as she said, “You don’t have to defend Tyler to me, Bren. What he does is no concern of mine.”

“Fine. Then if you’re done stalling, can we get back to the party now? I think it’s about to rain.”

Carlie glanced up at the dark sky and smelled the moisture thick in the air. “You go on, Bren. I think I’ll just wait a few more minutes.”

Brenda hesitated, then she nodded. “Don’t be too long.”

Too long? Carlie wondered if another hour or so would be too long. She truly didn’t relish the idea of going inside, not that anyone would recognize her. Dressed so differently, no one would see her as Carlie McDaniels, grade-school teacher and spinster extraordinaire. Her persona this evening was as far from her usual self as a woman could get. Even her hair and eyes were different, thanks to the wig that came with the costume, and the colored contacts she was wearing.

She was a coward, true, but it had been two long years since her divorce, and though that had been enough time for her to gain her independence and put some order to her life, it hadn’t been time enough to repair her confidence in herself as a woman. Brenda claimed Carlie was attractive and appealing. Carlie’s ex had made an entirely different claim.

Shivering, she forced her mind away from the disturbing memories, mustered her courage and started toward the door. She could make Brenda happy by mingling for an hour or so, then she could make her escape. The thought of her small, tidy, empty house seemed very nice all of a sudden.

TYLER RAMSEY HATED parties.

Looking around in mild amusement, he tried not to appear bored. Everything was the same—the ritual, the games. There were several women, alone and obviously on the hunt, who had been eyeing him since he’d entered. A Cleopatra, an elf, an Indian maiden—they all were playing their phoney roles to the hilt. They were drawn to his reputation, he knew. The funny part was, most of it wasn’t even true.

Turning away, he wondered why he’d allowed Brenda to talk him into coming. True, he’d been bored for a while, at loose ends with himself. He needed a spark; he needed someone who could make him laugh.

His brother laughed a lot these days.

Not that Tyler wanted to settle down. He hadn’t met a woman yet with whom he could consider spending the rest of his life. Jason was lucky to have found Brenda; she was the best. But women like her were rare. Glancing around the room again, Tyler realized just what a find Brenda was. The house was filled with females, but none of them held his attention. They were all…the same. Laughing, flirting, drinking. They stood poised to best advantage, their gestures predictable.

He’d been told more than once now how dashing he looked in his pirate costume. Everyone knew it was him. He wasn’t wearing makeup as some of the other guests did. His only concession was an eye patch, worn rakishly over his left eye. A billowing white shirt that he found extremely comfortable, and tight black trousers completed the costume. His belt—wide, with a huge brass buckle—held a scabbard, with a sword resting inside it. His black boots came to his knees.

He sat in a chair, observing the crowd dispassionately. Immediately, a blond Valkyrie, brass breastplate shining in the glow of party lights, came to perch on his knee, and gave him a sly smile. He recognized that smile. It belonged to his ex-companion, Valerie. It was a smile that signaled her intent, and he used to respond to it appropriately. All he felt now was irritation. She leaned close, and he forced a polite expression to his features. They’d shared something brief, and by her insistence, with no strings attached. The outcome had been predictable.

She’d wanted a man who knew the score, who could afford the best, who moved in certain circles—her circles. She liked his sports car, his professional connections, and sex. In that order.

And he’d needed someone to help him fill his time, to give him something to think about other than his legal cases and the fact that his personal life was basically…empty. But it was over.

He knew it. Why didn’t she?

“Don’t you recognize me, Tyler?”

There was no place to put his hands, so he rested one on her back, the other on her naked thigh. “Of course. You’re a beautiful Norse goddess.” His legendary innate charm surfaced through his impatience.

Valerie chuckled throatily. “You make a very believable pirate. Have you made any plans to plunder the party and steal away with female captives?”

He didn’t feel like playing, so he conjured the lie without hesitation. “Actually, sweetheart, I have.”

She pouted, and ran her fingers through his hair. “You look so dashing, Tyler.”

He barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He thought of going home to his empty house—and the thought no longer seemed so unappealing.

He glanced up, and saw his sister-in-law, Brenda, standing by the kitchen door, talking with a man dressed as a Roman general. Tyler was just deciding to go home and nurse his discontent in the privacy of his own home, when Brenda turned toward the kitchen with an expectant look on her face. She gave a wide smile, and the Roman nearly dropped his glass of liquor.

Tyler felt anticipation for the first time that night. He stared, waiting. Brenda suddenly appeared to be very delighted, and he wondered why. She seemed every bit as impish as the fairy she was dressed to be.

Slowly disengaging himself from Valerie’s clinging hold, Tyler stood, his curiosity swelling. He was so intent on watching Brenda, he didn’t hear Valerie’s complaints. His eyes were glued to the kitchen doorway.

And then he saw her.

His knees locked and he felt his thighs tense. The woman stood uncertainly by Brenda, apparently oblivious to the stares she was drawing. She was magnificent.

Long, dark curly hair fell to her shoulders, and her costume left little to the imagination. Lush, was the first thought to come to mind.

She wasn’t slim, but her curves were in all the right places. Her long legs were beautifully shaped, lightly muscled, teasingly displayed in the wispy, transparent harempants. Her waist was trim, her navel a soft shadow in the gentle swell of her belly. Her shoulders, straight and broad for a woman, were held proudly, despite her obvious reluctance, and her pale breasts were very full, firm and high. She was wearing an ornate mask, that covered her face from her nose to her hairline. He didn’t care.

She bent and whispered something in Brenda’s ear. Brenda lost her smile, and looked around the room as if seeking encouragement. Her eyes passed over Tyler, then seeing his rapt stare, she turned to the harem girl. Her eyes soon followed.

He caught her gaze, literally. Even from the distance that separated them, Tyler could feel her nervousness. She seemed startled by his awareness, and displeased. She was poised for flight.

He didn’t smile. He pulled off his eye patch and started toward her. She seemed unable to move, her eyes widening. As he came closer, he saw that she was very pale and that her eyes were a startling, unnatural shade of vivid blue. Contacts? As part of her costume?

He was intrigued.

With only a few feet separating them, he was pulled to an abrupt stop by Valerie.

He glanced at Valerie with stark impatience. “I have to go.”

“Tyler, wait! I wanted to talk to you.” Her hand slid up his arm to grip his shirt. Her voice lowered to a purr. “I need a date tomorrow. For a banquet. It will be…fun.”

He didn’t have time for this. Valerie always came around when she wanted something from him. He had no doubt she needed him to gain entrée into the charity banquet. With plates going at a thousand dollars apiece, she knew there would be influential people there.