BLIND: A Mastermind Novel

by Lydia Michaels

  Exiting the room, she blinked at the unwelcome light. Discovering it was only late afternoon disoriented her even more. Her mind wanted it to be evening.

  Pennyworth stood as she entered the waiting room of the spa, placing a fitness magazine on the table. “Did you enjoy yourself, Ms. Farrow?”

  She nodded tightly, certain he was aware Mr. Stone had come into the room. Approaching him, she whispered, “Is he here?”

  “I can’t answer that. Would you like to go to your suite now?”

  He’d arranged a suite for her, she’d nearly forgotten. She had no experience with this sort of spoiling. “Okay.”

  Pennyworth took her arm and escorted her through the hotel. They took the elevator to the top floor and he handed her a keycard. “I’ll be in room three o’seven if you need me. Otherwise, he’s left you instructions.”

  Her heart fluttered at the suspicious hope Mr. Stone would return again that night. Sliding the key into the door, she thanked Pennyworth before he left.

  Her jaw unhinged as she took in the space. Holy mother of luxury. She giggled. This had to be a dream. Stepping into the room, as if she were trespassing, she studied the space.

  A large bed dominated the far wall. Plush pillows and blankets—all the color of snow—added several inches to the mattress. The furniture was darkly polished wood and the curtains were drawn. In front of the window were two high back chairs angled around a small accent table. A glass and a bottle of Merlot sat on the table and her stomach flipped at the sight of a wax sealed envelope.

  She rushed forward and tore open the seal.

  Ms. Farrow,

  In the closet you will find two outfits. I assume it will be clear which was chosen for work. Take a bath, have a glass of wine, then dress and go to the Imperial Room for dinner. Reservations are under Stone for eight o’clock.

  Mr. Stone

  A.R.

  She darted to the closet and found two garment bags hanging, and a small boutique bag resting on the floor next to two shoe boxes. Her fingers reached for the bags and stilled as awareness took hold.

  This was it. This must be the sense of adoration she’d been waiting for. Every nuance, every detail, it all added up to total attention, yet, the more he gave the more prominent the still hallow spaces became. There was one thing she wanted beyond all the luxury, one thing she’d exchange for everything—him. She wanted him.

  Suddenly overwhelmed, she backed away from the closet and perched on the edge of the bed. He made sense of her, understood her wants in a way that made them just and appropriate, but there was a great fear linked to his presence in her life. What would she be if he disappeared? She didn’t want to go back to just Scarlet. She much preferred the Scarlet she became when with him—free and brave.

  Her vision blurred as a tight and painful realization clamped down on her heart. She wanted to call him, but couldn’t. She didn’t have his number. Sniffling, a tear slipped from her lashes and fell to the floor.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he realized how much all this attention meant to her, told her that someone believed she was worth such focus.

  It was so surreal, she wouldn’t be surprised if at the end of their encounter she were slammed with an enormous bill. What could he possibly be gaining from all of this? She hadn’t even kissed him.

  Strange, the indebted feelings reminded her of all she could offer and one thing stood in the forefront of her mind. Sex. Earlier she’d worried that he might have health issues, but now that didn’t seem as troublesome as it did heartbreaking.

  She’d ask him. She had to. Not because she intended to pay for his kindness with sexual favors, but because if something were to happen to him… She couldn’t even finish the thought. She just hoped he was healthy.

  You’re falling in love with him.

  No. That couldn’t be right. Her mind played over their encounters and conversations. To an outsider their relationship and the desires she was battling might seem contrived and superficial, but the emotional gifts far outweighed the material.

  He made her feel things she had no reference for. Take away the hotel suite, the clothes, and whatever else lay in that closet, and her feelings for him remained the same. If he were ill, her affections wouldn’t change. She’d take care of him, nurture his needs the way he did hers. One question echoed in her mind, drawing more worry than any other. While Mr. Stone was taking care of her, who was taking care of him?

  Wiping her eyes, she attempted to stave off her tears and failed. She needed that chance to show him how much she cared and worried she might never have it.

  A new sort of terror introduced itself. No longer was she afraid of a possibly dangerous man. Now she was terrified of what said man might do to her heart. He’d never demanded anything of her. He’d merely requested she trust him in order to give her everything she desired. At this point, she whole-heartedly believed he would succeed, because he’d already given her more than she’d ever dreamed.

  Should she continue on this path, she’d never be the same. Ignorance had allowed her to assume and wish for something more in her love life. Now, she knew that more existed, but feared it might soon end.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly. How did the saying go? Better to have loved and lost? Or was it better to love for a day? No, that was live a day. Whatever. Her mind was made up. She was doing this. For better or for worse and all that jazz, she was giving in to temptation and letting the chips fall where they may.

  No more games. She was going to give him everything she had. Hopefully it was enough for a man like him.

  She wanted to settle in for the full ride and treat herself to the experience of a lifetime, certain the man in charge was capable of taking her to places she never dared to imagine even in her wildest fantasies.

  Blotting her eyes on her sleeve, she stood and returned to the closet. Unzipping the first garment bag she found a red wrap dress of the softest material. It was lovely and the color would compliment her hair nicely. Draped over the padded hanger was a strand of pearls.

  Smiling, pleased, she bent to the floor and lifted the lid off one of two shoeboxes. Glittering black pumps with long heels rested in a bed of tissue. Holy crap they were fancy.

  She opened the other shoebox and found beautiful brown leather dress boots. They would look perfect with the dress. It was a very nice outfit.

  Biting her lip, she contemplated the fancier shoes and the other garment bag. The red dress was very elegant compared to what she typically wore to work, but those shoes were definitely too formal for it. Something formal had to be in the other bag, which meant she was likely dressing up for dinner.

  Smiling, she pulled open the zipper and gasped. Deep emerald lace flowed out of the carrier and she quickly unearthed the dress. It was stunning. She’d never owned anything like it.

  Pulling the hanger out of the closet, she appraised the garment. Beautiful didn’t accurately describe how pretty it was. Long lace sleeves reached to the A-line waist. The neckline was wide and she wondered if her shoulders would be exposed.

  She quickly checked inside, finding the bodice lined with the softest silk as she searched for a tag. There wasn’t one and she panicked thinking it might not fit. How would he have guessed her size?

  He did see her coat during the times she visited his house. Oh! And he had her remove her shoes. Sneaky man. Grinning, amazed at his attention to detail, she hung up the dress and went to take her bath, anxious to put on her new clothes.

  As she entered the bathroom, she was again overwhelmed by the extravagance. A basket full of specialty items like handmade soaps and lotions rested on the counter. Her smile seemed tattooed on her face.

  When she met her reflection’s gaze she squealed like a little girl. “This is too freaking cool!”

  She bathed quickly then emptied the contents of the boutique bag on the bed. She found panties, earrings, both pearl and rhinestone, lace stockings, a small clutch, and some other unmen
tionables.

  No blindfold! Her heart raced.

  As she slid into the strapless bra she faced the mirror and laughed. How much time did he spend staring at her boobs? The fit was perfect.

  Next came the stunning emerald dress. It fit like a glove. The only thing she didn’t have was makeup. She went to her bag and dug out her compact. Applying a dusting of powder over her freckles, she wished she had mascara. After slathering her lips with gloss she appraised the final product.

  Wow. She looked really beautiful, almost to the point where she didn’t recognize herself. Reaching into her bag, she found her phone. This sort of thing needed to be recorded. Snapping a few selfies, because when she woke up from this dream she wanted the souvenir, she took a deep breath and grinned. Never had she felt so content.

  She stuck her phone, debit card, room key, and gloss in the clutch and checked the room for anything she was forgetting. Her nerves were snapping in every direction and she couldn’t think straight, so she left, deciding the only thing she needed was him.

  She was outside of the Imperial Room with exactly one minute to spare. Glancing around, she waited for Pennyworth or the man of her dreams to announce himself. Strangers bustled by, some formally dressed couples heading into the restaurant. He could be any one of the gentlemen in the vicinity.

  Her pulse raced as she anticipated seeing Mr. Stone for the first time. It was already clear his looks were irrelevant. Gone were any vain needs for physical attributes. Fat, bald, skinny, scarred, she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was being able to finally look him in the eyes.

  Assuming he was already there, she slowly approached the hostess station. A woman in a formal black cocktail dress greeted her. “Good evening. Welcome to the Imperial Room. May I have your name?”

  Scarlet swallowed. “I have a reservation under Stone.”

  The woman typed a name into the discreet computer embedded in the podium. “Yes, here you are. Right this way, please.”

  She followed the hostess, doing her best to keep her breathing as even as possible. Her smile faltered when she saw he’d yet to arrive at the table the woman selected. She pulled out a chair for Scarlet and she thanked her.

  “Your server will be by momentarily,” the hostess announced, removing the other place setting.

  “I think I’m expecting someone?”

  She paused. “The reservation was made for one. Is that incorrect?” she asked nervously, no longer removing the extra dishes.

  One? He wasn’t coming? Such sharp devastation filled her, she lost her appetite as her mood deflated and her smile fell.

  “Oh.” Disappointment clamped tight around her heart. “No, you’re probably correct,” she forced out, trying not to show that she was upset. Of course she sounded crazy and was now on the verge of tears. Any sane person would know they were eating alone.

  She internally winced at the thought of eating alone, something she loathed to do in public. The hostess, a bit confused, left the other place setting and made some comment about sending the server directly to her table.

  Scarlet didn’t know what was worse, openly eating alone, or eating across from an empty place setting and looking as if she’d been stood up. For as excited as she was about the evening, she suddenly wanted to leave.

  The waiter arrived with a cheery smile she couldn’t reciprocate. “Good evening, Ms. Farrow.” She drew to attention the moment he said her name. How had he known her name when the reservation was under Stone?

  “Good evening.”

  He poured fresh water in her glass. “My name is Xavier and I’m here to make sure you enjoy your experience as our guest at the Imperial Room tonight. Have you ever dined with us before?”

  Her eyes scanned the restaurant. “No.”

  “Then you’re in for a lovely treat. Mr. Stone has taken the liberty of ordering for you this evening. He’s asked that we start you off with a bottle of our Imperial Red 1947. Will that be acceptable?”

  Nineteen forty-seven? She really hoped he was picking up the tab, because a bottle of such aged wine might overdraw her bank account.

  Stop being bitter. Embrace the experience for what it is. A treat and something no one else has ever come remotely close to doing for you.

  Sighing, she pressed on a grin and said, “That would be fine. Thank you.”

  When the server disappeared to retrieve the wine, she was extremely self-conscious. Sitting alone in a dining room filled with other patrons had a way of making her feel on display. She glanced around the room and noted who was talking with company and who wasn’t.

  No one seemed to be watching her, so she tucked away all expectations, and tried to embrace the moment.

  ****

  Asher noted the moment her happiness flipped to disappointment. The hostess had begun to clear the additional place setting and Scarlet’s happy expression wilted. He had to fight the urge to join her. It wasn’t time.

  His heart was still racing from that afternoon. He’d spent days researching the human body and decided he wanted to touch her. Over a conversation with Jet the idea for a sensual massage came to him. It was tricky, but he’d pulled it off, making arrangements with the hotel and convincing them he had a surprise for the woman in his life. After throwing a little money their way, they’d been more than agreeable to his terms.

  Had Scarlet asked him to leave, he would have. He had no intention of violating her privacy any more than necessary and he had touched her only after her consent. It took a solid hour for his body to recover from seeing her so beautifully exposed. Her skin was silk under his fingers, traces of the memory still a threat to his composure.

  With her stunning appearance this evening, he was again struggling to mask his body’s reaction to her presence. She was divine in the emerald dress his stylist had suggested.

  The waiter returned and filled her glass with wine. Something in her downtrodden expression shifted as she took a sip. What changed?

  Keeping his expression blank, he continued to sip his cocktail at the bar, studying her through the mirrored wall. She fascinated him. When the waiter returned, she grinned, the gesture appearing genuine. Perhaps she’d come to terms with his absence.

  As the meal progressed he enjoyed observing her. An evolution of confidence took place right before his eyes. He’d assumed it would be a touch distressing, dining alone, all dressed up in a five star restaurant. But her adjustment to the circumstances was impressive. They both appeared to be evolving in that department. Pride and shared understanding filled him, strengthening their connection in an unexpected way.

  The meal concluded with a beautiful chocolate soufflé. Every bite she took was erotic. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips closed over the tines of the fork, her expression pure delight as she savored the last nibble.

  When the waiter returned, Asher noted her surprise that there was no bill. Did she think he’d invite her to dinner and not handle the tab? What sort of lowlifes had she dated? He tucked that question away for another time.

  As she stood, he diverted his attention, not wanting his position made obvious. His body tensed when his stool was bumped and the clatter of her little purse fell to the floor, her soft whispered apology only an arm’s reach from his position.

  “I beg your pardon.”

  Not thinking, he bent to pick up the clutch and slowly handed it to her. Their eyes met for the briefest moment and she smiled, her blush most likely the result of her clumsiness. His heart thundered as she took the clutch, his gaze fastened to her striking eyes, the eyes he’d carefully avoided until now.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, cautious not to speak and the moment was broken. An unexpected fury burned through him. Had she seen nothing remarkable in him? He breathed roughly through his nose as she left the restaurant without even a second glance.

  What should he expect? Gratitude? She had no way of knowing he’d been the one responsible for her meal or the luxurious suite. Still, unpleasant and
oily doubt coiled in his gut. Just as she always had, she saw right through him as if his presence was inconsequential while he’d spent every minute trying to see her soul and memorize every detail of her personality.

  Paying his tab, he left the bar and returned to his suite. It was only as he slid his key into the lock that another thought crossed his mind. Perhaps it wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him. Perhaps it was that she only had eyes for Mr. Stone. That theory managed to repair a bit of his hurt.

  Could she be that invested in the charade of Mr. Stone that she would only react to his known introduction? Asher contemplated this for several minutes as he drew off his suit and started the shower. There was no way of knowing how devoted she was to the mysterious Mr. Stone without asking.

  Settling onto the bed, he pulled out his phone and hit send.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vulnerability

  Scarlet carefully zipped the dress back into the garment bag and touched the packaging affectionately. So she hadn’t gotten the chance to meet him face to face as expected. The evening was still one she’d remember forever.

  They had nine encounters left until the next phase began—whatever that was. She wished there was some sort of future guarantee, but there wasn’t.

  It was bizarre. Her entire day had taken a one-eighty at the hands of this man, yet she missed him. Sure, he’d been at the spa, but she was so taken off-guard by his presence she’d barely managed to utter more than a few syllables.

  Her stomach suddenly swooped as though dropping into her feet. What if she’d made a fool of herself and he’d intended to join her for dinner, but then changed his mind after seeing her naked? Her belly clenched and she struggled not to lose her delicious meal.

  A soft chirping came from the bed. So distraught over the course of her thoughts, she almost didn’t recognize the muffled sound of her cell phone. Maybe it was Nicole. She was strongly considering confiding in her friend, if only to chase away her ridiculous paranoia.