“Who’s in charge, Asher? You or me?”
“You?” He hadn’t a clue what she expected.
“Wrong. You’re in charge. Take charge. Let the music flow through you and guide your motions. Dancing’s a contact sport. First step is making contact.”
He palmed the air outside of her hips, unsure if this was what she meant. Her hands slapped over his, bringing them to her hips and pressing them firmly in place as she wiggled. “Don’t be afraid. Fear is the opposite of confidence.”
“Sorry.”
“And don’t apologize. Act as though every action is intentional. You boys in the back, keep moving.”
The composition intensified with the whine of violins and soft clicking cymbals. It sounded like a tango, but he wasn’t sure.
“When you dance with a girl, you leave her feeling like a woman. For those brief moments you make her the focus of the room, the owner of your attention. And when you part, she should feel as though she handed over self-possession, not because you asked, but because you demanded it, and she should be grateful she did.”
She made a swift turn and came face to face with him. Her hold fierce. “Connect with the music. Look at me. Pretend you’re in love with me. See the woman of your dreams in your arms and hold me like I’m her.”
His mind wandered. Nadia’s dark eyes transformed into soft pools of blue. Her skin lightened and glowed like the belly of a blushing cloud. Her body became Scarlet’s and his entire posture changed, taking hold of her as though he’d never let go.
Her voice lowered as she shifted her feet. “The tango is a love story between a man and a woman, Mr. Roan. It’s passionate, dramatic, and at times even driven by anger. You must become a character of sensuality.”
His steps turned bold as he led her back from the mirror. Her smile was its own praise. “You’re going to dip me back. Don’t let go. Keep your hand firmly on the center of my back, dragging down as if you’re seeing me naked for the first time and preparing to make love.”
She arched in his hold and he sucked in a breath as her abdomen lengthened, stretching far over his arm until her dark hair pooled at the floor. “Now walk, slowly dragging me with you.”
Chances were, he looked like a complete fool, but the music grew in tempo and he no longer cared if he was on display. The dance provoked intense emotions—excitement, lust, need—and he was enjoying the experience, all the while imagining Scarlet.
Nadia lifted and her eyes met his. “Now, lead, Mr. Roan. Love is a battlefield and you are fighting to convince your lover she belongs with you. You don’t need all the moves. Show me your confidence and fight to seduce her like no other man could. Look into my eyes and mean it.”
Gone was his fear of stepping on toes and embarrassing himself. He led Nadia around the studio, locking his gaze with hers, intention clear in his hold. She twirled and he pulled her back to him as if they’d choreographed the move. It was vital he not let go of her hand.
When her calf latched over his hip his eyes widened. There was no space between them. Even her mouth was a kiss away from his. Taking several slow steps backwards, he drew her with him, as she conceded to his lead.
He hadn’t realized the others had stopped dancing until the music cut away to silence. With a labored breath, he glanced around the room and found all three of his friends staring at him. His neck heated and he released Nadia.
“Well…” she said, a bit breathlessly. “I think, with a little practice, you will prove quite the capable dance partner, Mr. Roan.”
Jet met his gaze and smiled widely. His friend’s slow clap echoed through the quiet studio. “You’re a hound, Ash. Who knew?”
Taking a self-conscious step back, Asher tugged at his hair and shrugged. Hunter laughed, “It must be all that Jedi training we did as kids. I never knew you had so much grace.”
“Shut up,” Asher said, his skin heating under their mocking.
He glanced at Elliot, who was scowling, but he wasn’t looking at Asher. Rather, he was glaring at Nadia.
Taking a sip from a water bottle stashed in her bag, the expanse of her throat drawing their attention, she screwed the cap on tight, and tossed it away. “So I’ll see all of you next week? Same time, same place?”
Asher nodded. He couldn’t promise his friends would continue to accompany him, but he would definitely return. When he eventually danced with Scarlet, he intended to treat her to an unforgettable experience.
****
Scarlet hadn’t heard from Mr. Stone in four days. Eighty-nine hours to be exact. Her anticipation of his next move had dwindled into frightened frustration. As the workweek carried on, the excitement unfortunately turned into unwelcome and decidedly insecure worry.
Her mood took a turn for the worse when she checked her phone, email, and GP messages while her students silently read. How could he wait this long to contact her? Not a single good morning or even an inquiry as to how her day was going.
The phone in her classroom buzzed and she quietly answered it. Keeping her voice low, so as not to disturb her students, she whispered a hello.
“Ms. Farrow, you have a package. Just letting you know so you can pick it up during your prep.”
It was probably the new dry erase markers she’d ordered, which she could use for her next class. No sense in waiting. “Thank you. I’ll send someone now.” She hung up the phone. “Lori, would you like to run to the office for me? I have a package.”
“Sure, Ms. Farrow,” the girl said, enthusiastically dropping her book, which she didn’t seem to be reading anyway.
The interruption caused a few whispers and she tapped on a few desks to regain control of the class. “We’re still silently reading.”
As she waited, she returned to her own desk and pulled out her eReader. Losing herself in romance, she cleared her throat when the class broke into a sudden rush of whispers and gasps. Glancing up, prepared to correct them again, she gulped. Lori was carrying an enormous flower arrangement down the center aisle of the classroom.
Nearly dropping the eReader, Scarlet sat up. “Are those for me?” Stupid question. They were obviously for her. But who were they from? Mr. Stone didn’t know where she worked, did he? Another stupid question. The man apparently knew everything.
The scent of lilies filled the room. Sprays of exotic blooms burst from the bouquet like fireworks freeze-framed in the sky. It was the most majestic gift a man had ever given her. There was no question where they came from. Mr. Stone didn’t do anything less than grand and these were simply magnificent.
Her students, no longer interested in the books they held, craned their necks and giggled, while the girls crooned sweet sounds of envy. Even the boys appeared impressed, making comments about the cost of a corsage and noting the crystal vase that held her flowers.
“Are they from your boyfriend, Ms. Farrow?” Lori asked, and Scarlet’s face flushed.
“No, honey. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“He must be rich,” one of the boys in the back announced.
Flustered, and a little embarrassed, she said, “Back to your books, please.”
“Ms. Farrow, you gettin’ married or something?”
“What’s your new name gonna be?”
She couldn’t compete with the distraction. “Back to work.” They lifted their books, but every gaze was aimed to the front of the class. “Thank you, Lori. You may sit down.”
Carefully pulling the flowers apart she located a small sealed envelope. Her stomach flipped when she recognized the wax seal. Mr. Stone. Her fingers tore open the flap and held the card out of sight.
I assume your day is improving, Ms. Farrow. I want to see you tonight. Expect the unexpected.
Yours,
Mr. Stone
A.R.
Her chest lifted, filling with a breath of excitement. No matter how she tried for discretion there was no hiding the joy in her smile. The students snickered and she quickly stuffed the card in her pocket. “Back
to work. I mean it.”
All of her worry was gone, replaced with potent curiosity on the tails of much relief. He was still interested and she was going to see him tonight! Well, probably not see him, but she’d be with him, and he did say to expect the unexpected.
The last few hours of school dragged. It was as though all the clocks stopped the moment she had something to look forward to. When the faculty bell rang an hour after student dismissal, she closed up her classroom and booked it to her car.
Her strides came up short when she spotted Pennyworth and the sedan parked in front of her car. “Good afternoon, Ms. Farrow.”
“Mr. Pennyworth. I wasn’t expecting you.”
He grinned. “I believe Mr. Stone advised you to expect the unexpected.”
“Yes.” She should have known better than to assume things would go as usual when he’d taken the time to warn her they wouldn’t. Did this man even have a usual setting? Probably not.
“Care to join me?” Pennyworth asked, opening the passenger door.
“What about my car?”
“I’ll return you to it later.”
She supposed that would be okay. This wasn’t as late as their usual encounters. She didn’t think she’d be out until midnight. Nodding, she slid into the sedan. “Wait. What about the blindfold?”
“No blindfold today, Ms. Farrow.” Pennyworth smiled and shut the door.
Oh my God! I’m going to see him!
She reached in her bag and pulled out a small compact. Why had she not put more effort into her appearance today? Fussing with her hair—hopeless—and applying a fresh layer of gloss to her lips, she huffed at the minor improvement she’d made.
Tossing the compact into her bag, her eyes devoured the world passing by. What did his home look like? Would his face be as sensual as his voice? There were so many questions to answer.
“Are you anxious?” Pennyworth asked.
She blinked in surprise. He didn’t usually question her. It was usually the other way around. “I’m always anxious when I go to him. Why do you ask?”
“You seem a little high strung. Would you like some water?”
“No thanks.”
They drove for a while. She tried to calculate the distance from her house to Mr. Stone’s and factor in the distance from school, but nothing was adding up. She was too excited to think.
When the sedan pulled onto a highway she frowned. “Do we usually go this way?”
“Today’s route is a bit different, Ms. Farrow.”
“Oh.”
The car sped along the busy interstate, past the next several exits, until the city came into view. Maybe they were going to a restaurant. Having dinner or cocktails—an actual date.
Pennyworth pulled into one of the nicer sections of the city. Tall skyscrapers blotted out the horizon and the paved roads varied from blacktop to smooth brick dating back to the development of the municipality. They had to be getting close.
When the car pulled in front of a long awning, she glanced up, trying to find the name of the establishment. A doorman in a sharp suit approached the car and Pennyworth exited the vehicle.
A gloved hand offered her assistance as she stood, taking in the mingled scents of the city. “Where are we?”
“The Belleview. Follow me, Ms. Farrow.”
She took Pennyworth’s offered arm and allowed him to lead her into what was the most luxurious lobby she’d ever visited. “Is this a hotel?”
“Yes, Ms. Farrow.”
Her steps faltered. Wait. Was this a booty call? Oh no. She hadn’t prepared for anything like that. Hold on. Who said she’d even consent to anything like that? The minutes leading up to Mr. Stone lasted far too long for her liking, but the second his presence was imminent, everything seemed to move way too fast.
They approached a tall marble counter. “I’m here to pick up any messages for a Ms. Scarlet Farrow,” Pennyworth told the concierge.
Lo and behold, another crisp white envelope was produced, again, sealed with a drop of red wax. He handed it to her.
“Open it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Plucking open the seal, she removed the small velum card.
I have a treat for you, Ms. Farrow. Let’s hope you’ve done what I’ve asked and it wasn’t too distressing. I’ve arranged a suite for you in the penthouse. You will be the only guest, so fear not. Dinner shall be provided as well as attire for tomorrow. Mr. Pennyworth is at your disposal should you choose to leave at anytime. Otherwise, he will be delivering you to work in the morning.
See you soon.
Mr. Stone
A.R.
She scanned the lobby, hoping he would stand out to her.
“Are you ready, Ms. Farrow?”
“Where are we going?”
“You have an appointment at the spa.”
“I do?”
Pennyworth grinned and nodded. “Allow me to escort you.”
She took his arm and they walked through the lobby, down a long corridor decorated with lavish flower arrangements, and entered a lobby on the other side of the building. A divine glass elevator was the centerpiece of the cathedral foyer. They stepped inside and Pennyworth instructed the attendant as to where they were going.
As the elevator rose, she glanced at all the finely dressed guests wandering around below. This was insane. Things like this didn’t happen to people like her. She fought the urge to call Nicole and play a game of Guess where I am! But who would believe her?
The bell softly chimed and the doors opened. The soft aroma of herbs and incense met her nose as they pressed through the opaque doors to the spa. Pennyworth touched a hand to her back and guided her inside.
“What are we doing here?” Was she getting her hair done? Her nails? It was impossible not to let the girlie lobe of her brain go nuts and twitter like a princess at the idea of being treated to such a luxury.
“A massage, I believe.”
A massage! The last time she had a massage was just before Nicole and Matt’s wedding. She was suddenly grateful she’d shaved that morning.
Giddy, she waited beside Pennyworth as he spoke to the woman behind the counter. “You can come with me, Ms. Farrow,” the woman invited.
Scarlet glanced to Pennyworth who assured, “I’ll be waiting here when you’re finished. Enjoy.”
There was no hiding her smile. Flowers, and now this? She was in heaven.
The spa attendant showed her where she could keep her belongings and instructed her to change into the fluffy black robe provided. As she undressed, she giggled, her mind painting Mr. Stone as the witch from Hansel and Gretel, fattening her up in a very schmoozing way.
Once in her robe and slippers, she exited the dressing room and found the masseuse waiting. The woman led her to a private room with a table and dim lighting. Tinkling chimes played from hidden speakers.
“You can hang the robe there and lie face down on the table. Cover yourself with this sheet and place the gel mask over your eyes.” She quietly left the room.
Scarlet took a few seconds to appraise the room. This was a lot nicer than the place she’d taken Nicole. Beside the table was a small shelf with potions and lotions she didn’t recognize.
Her slippered feet shuffled to the hook on the wall and she untied her robe, identifying that nervous moment of exposure when she feared someone might burst in and catch sight of her naked body.
Luckily, this week had enriched her audacity in that department. She’d done as Mr. Stone asked and slept nude. The first night was embarrassing, even though no one was there to witness the display. The second night she stripped hadn’t seemed as outlandish.
She was far from becoming an exhibitionist, but she realized there was a sort of extravagance to sleeping without any clothes. The blankets became a bit softer and her slumber seemed a tad more restful. It was an extremely freeing and comfortable way to sleep once she got over her fears of being caught in the buff.
Slipping off th
e robe, she quickly moved to the table and awkwardly climbed onto her belly. Her heart raced, sensing the masseuse would return any second. She jerked the sheet over her body. It was larger than she suspected, covering everything between her back and her ankles.
Leaning up on her elbows, she found the gel mask at the head of the table and slipped it on. Blindfolded again. She had a silent chuckle.
Sacrificing her sight was no longer as scary as it had been. The gel in the padded mask was cool. Settling her face in the hole at the top of the table, she waited.
Her heartbeat slowed, as the threat of someone walking in while she was uncovered no longer existed. The gentle melody piping from hidden speakers took her to a place of relaxation and her muscles gradually unclenched as she settled in for some first rate pampering.
The door opened with barely a sound. Scarlet’s mind had drifted and she was reaching a very Zen place where even the slightest intrusion seemed miles away.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Farrow.”
Zen gone.
Every muscle in her body drew up tight and she jerked. What was he doing there? A hand pressed gently into her rising shoulders.
“Easy, Ms. Farrow.” Mr. Stone whispered, applying a touch of pressure until she lowered her face back into the opening.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was oddly high pitched, but muffled. She was naked! Covered, but naked all the same.
He chuckled. “Do you like your gift?”
She did a second ago. Now she wasn’t so sure. Where the hell did the lady go? How did he get in there?
He tsked. “You don’t seem very grateful.”
“What? I am—but—you’re in here!”
“Shh, take a breath. I’d offer you wine, but I didn’t bring any. I assume you received your flowers?”
She couldn’t relax. Forcing a grateful tone to her voice, she mumbled into the table, “Thank you. They were lovely.”
“My pleasure. Now, I have two options for you. Listen carefully, Ms. Farrow.” His finger trailed over her shoulder. Tense muscles danced beneath his touch. “I can send Helga back in and she can give you a very relaxing massage or we can have a chat while I do the job. The choice is yours, but keep in mind, one would please me very much over the other.”
BLIND: A Mastermind Novel Page 18
