Open Invitation

by Tiffany White

  Letter in hand, he went back to his chicken and unpackaged it, setting everything on a plate. Taking a wine cooler from the refrigerator, he grabbed the plate and envelope and headed for the little balcony off his bedroom, where he had a small white metal bistro set. He set the food on the table and went back in his bedroom to take off his clothes. He wanted to sit on the balcony naked but slipped on a pair of khaki shorts in deference to propriety.

  The pink envelope rested against the umbrella pole of the bistro table. The light from the bedroom spilled out onto the balcony, enabling him to study it as he ate. He didn’t recognize the handwriting other than it matched the original pink envelope from last week.

  If this was a plot to arouse his interest, it was working just dandy. But why didn’t the person show herself? Why all the secrecy?

  When he finished the last of his chicken dinner, he licked his fingers slowly and leisurely, then pushed the plate away from him. Reaching for the letter, he drained the last of the wine cooler. A wicked smile of anticipation played on his lips, and a certain gleam flickered in his eyes.

  Kyle,

  Have you missed me? It’s been one whole week. Did you like the letter I sent you?

  I’m wearing my black satin camisole for you right now. It feels cool and smooth against my bare skin. Can you imagine it beneath your warm hands?

  Did you know you were there when I bought it, Kyle? Think back. Do you remember shopping in the lingerie boutique a few days ago? Remember…there was someone in one of the dressing rooms. I was trying on the black satin camisole while you shopped.

  But enough about then, Kyle…. I want you to be here with me now. I’m back at the boutique. The shop is empty. The salesgirl has gone. I’m waiting for you in the dressing room. It’s just large enough for the two of us, if you don’t mind being a little cramped.

  You like what I’m wearing, don’t you, Kyle? I saw you admiring it on the mannequin. It looks better on a real woman, doesn’t it? It’s as red as a cherry lollipop. But not nearly so innocent. A merry widow is worn for only one reason—pure, naughty pleasure.

  Would you like to slide your hands over the smooth satin where it hugs my curves? Here, let me arch toward you so your hands can span my waist. I love your hands, Kyle. They’re so very male….

  Do you like the playful garters? See how they leave a little red mark like a love bite when I snap them against my thigh? Notice the contrast of the black stockings against my skin…the subtle eroticism where dark stocking leaves off and pale skin begins. Isn’t your eye enticed to linger there? Why, Kyle darling, your eyes are deepening to the darkest shade of blue….

  This wispy bit of bikini panty feels so sexy. The lace scratches ever so exquisitely low across my abdomen. Would you like to slide this layer of soft romance away?

  No, I’ve got a better idea. Close your eyes, Kyle. Are they closed tightly? Now, give me your hands. You’re so warm…. Here, slide your hand beneath the panty and see touch me. Yes, I like that….

  Oh…Kyle! No, you must stop. Really, you must. I hear somebody in the boutique…. Quick, you must leave!

  Have a nice shower, Kyle…

  Kyle sat staring at the pale stationery. He’d been in that dressing room with her.

  Even to the point of seeing things she hadn’t described, like what the back of her body looked like reflected in the mirror as he’d embraced her. He could smell the fragrance of the boutique even now.

  Who was this woman?

  How had she known he was going to be in the boutique? Was she following him around? No, she’d been in the boutique before he’d entered it. Coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.

  Didn’t it?

  The fantasy had blown his mind in more ways than one.

  Wa-a-ait a minute.

  Amanda!

  She’d been at the mall. What if she hadn’t only just arrived as she had claimed? What if she’d really been shopping, trying on lingerie when he’d walked into the boutique?

  She had been the woman he’d been imagining in the fantasy as he’d read it. It had been her his fingertips had been aching to touch.

  And that wasn’t all that ached, he thought, his hand moving restlessly on his thigh. She had him touching himself, for heaven’s sake! He’d need a cold shower to release the sexual tension the letter had aroused.

  And then he laughed.

  Amanda Butterworth. He wished!

  No way was Amanda Butterworth the one sending him the fantasy letters. They rubbed each other the wrong way, he thought with a chuckle.

  A damned shame, too.

  Standing, he stretched, reaching high into the air above him, his unsnapped khaki shorts slipping low on his lean hips. The moonlight glinted off his body where it wasn’t covered in the hair that curled across his chest and arrowed down his hard belly.

  He stared sightlessly across the lawn below, not seeing Amanda in the black RX-7 parked there, catching her breath at the sight of his lithe, virile body.

  Turning, he picked up the letter and the dishes and went inside. When he’d rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, he headed for his desk, wrinkling his nose as he slid the center drawer open. His desk was starting to smell very feminine, and he was feeling very masculine.

  Remembering the fantasy’s suggested remedy, he headed for the bathroom. Yes, a cold shower was exactly what he needed to take care of the way he was feeling, or he’d never get any sleep.

  In the bathroom, he unzipped his khaki shorts and let them slide to the cool tile floor. Stepping into the shower, he adjusted the water temperature, then stood beneath the cold, stinging pellets of water to let the remedy do its work.

  Thoughts of red lingerie and black silk stockings slid down the drain with the rivulets of water sluicing off his hard body.

  Amanda Butterworth’s image wasn’t so easily washed away.

  She remained on his mind deep into the night as he tossed restlessly in his sleep.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NOAH TRENT plopped a peppermint candy into his mouth and looked down at the ratings sheet on his desk. It verified that his decision to make Amanda Butterworth cohost of Theater Talk had been a good one. The ratings were up. Kyle and Amanda were clicking with the audience, if not with each other. The upward surge in the ratings had precipitated his calling an impromptu meeting with them.

  Rising from his chair with the ratings in hand, he strolled over to the window of his office and looked out over the river he loved. Below he saw Amanda and Kyle approaching as if they were strangers. Their disregard for each other was a little too studied to be convincing.

  Moments later Kyle strolled into Noah’s office. Resting his hip on the edge of Noah’s desk, he took a peppermint candy from the dish by his thigh. He was all effortless charm and teasing sensuality as he watched Amanda enter the office and purposely take a seat across the room from him on the old tweed sofa.

  “What’s up?” Kyle asked, turning his attention to Noah, who was still standing at the window.

  “The ratings are up, that’s what,” Noah answered, waving the ratings sheet in his hand.

  Amanda smiled, openly displaying her pleasure at the news. Rising ratings reflected favorably on her recent addition to the show. She glanced over at Kyle to gauge his reaction to Noah’s news.

  Kyle caught her glance and sent her a sweet smile that wasn’t. Turning back to Noah, he asked, “Does this mean we’re getting a raise?”

  “You’re getting something better,” Noah answered.

  “The two of you are getting a chance at more airtime. Some time has become available on Sunday evening right before the movie. I want you and Amanda to pull together a theme show to put in the empty slot. If you do a good show and it goes over well, I’ll consider making it a regular feature.”

  Noah looked from one to the other. “Either of you have an idea for a theme?”

  “How about doing something on foreign films?” Am
anda suggested.

  Kyle groaned. “We’ve got to grab the audience’s attention, not put them to sleep. I think we should do horror films.”

  “Yech, you can’t be serious about doing a show on those slasher flicks,” Amanda objected with disdain, shaking off a shudder.

  Kyle moved the candy mint around in his mouth with his tongue as he gave her a long, considering stare. Then he winked. ‘‘You can hold on to me if you get scared,” he offered, leaving his perch on the edge of Noah’s desk to slouch beside her on the sofa, deliberately invading her space.

  Noah looked out the window again and closed his eyes on a heavy sigh.

  With Noah’s attention momentarily diverted, Kyle took advantage of the opportunity to continue annoying Amanda. “I suppose it’s too much to hope you’re a screamer,” he whispered suggestively, giving his evil twin, Lyle, free rein.

  Amanda shot up from the sofa, and Kyle’s unrepentant chuckle followed her across the room to Noah’s desk, where she made a pretense of wanting a mint. Her flushed face gave away the pretense.

  “Now, children,” Noah said facetiously. Turning from the window, he informed them, “I’ve just thought of an idea for a theme for the trial show. It’s going to be ‘Love Scenes,’ and the two of you will give the male and female viewpoints on intimacy in the movies.”

  “I like it,” Kyle said, nodding his approval.

  They both looked to Amanda.

  Amanda shrugged. “As long as he promises not to pick scenes from any of his personal favorites, like Valley of the Velvet Vixens.”

  “Valley of the—” Kyle repeated incredulously, his rich, throaty laugh erupting before he finished.

  Noah’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “What do you say, Kyle?” Noah asked. “Do you agree to Amanda’s condition?”

  Kyle cleared his throat and looked at Amanda. “I will if you will,” he countered, cocky and sure.

  “Will what?” Amanda asked, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

  “I’ll promise to censor my choices if you promise to do horror films next,” Kyle answered, pushing his luck.

  Amanda shook her head, her eyes rolling ceiling ward. “I swear you have the hormones of a sixteen-year-old boy.”

  “Better than having the hormones of a ninety-year-old spinster,” he taunted with a pointed look to the neat bun coiled at the nape of her slender neck.

  Noah broke in before there was bloodshed. “You’d both do well to concentrate on this show. If it’s not a success, there won’t be another to worry about.”

  “What do you want to do about format, Noah? Stay with the same one we’re using now?” Kyle asked.

  “No. I thought we’d change things around a bit. I want each of you to pick a couple of favorite scenes as examples of compelling love scenes so the viewers get a sense of the differences in the way men and women view intimacy.”

  Amanda looked down at her watch.

  “Going somewhere?” Kyle asked from the sofa, where he’d made himself so comfortable it didn’t look as if he ever planned to move again. The question had been in the form of a challenge.

  Ignoring Kyle as if he were a nosy younger brother, Amanda looked to Noah. “I have something scheduled for one,” she explained. “Do I need to cancel?”

  “No…no, I think we’ve finished here. Go on ahead and keep your appointment. The two of you can get together later today and iron out the details. It would be a good idea to free up the rest of your schedule for the next few days, though. You and Kyle are going to need to burn some midnight oil to get both shows ready on time.”

  They both watched Amanda’s hurried departure, her perfect posture in her neat navy blue suit speaking of attendance at the best finishing schools.

  Seeing Kyle’s look of frustration, Noah couldn’t resist stirring the pot. “Think she’s got a hot date for lunch?” he asked.

  “More likely an appointment to get her corset laced tighter,” Kyle grumbled.

  Noah chuckled as he sat down in his chair. “Going that well, is it?”

  Kyle’s fingers stretched around her imaginary throat “She drives me crazy,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just once I’d like to see her lose that perfect control of hers and let down her hair. It’s gotten to the point that that’s all I think about”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes while Kyle’s thoughts drifted to the fantasy letters locked in his desk drawer, their sexy contents never far from his mind. Amanda always starred in the mental playbacks, though he knew that was perverse. No doubt she’d have him arrested if she could read his mind.

  Having her on his mind was one thing, but having her on his show was quite another. His evil twin, Lyle, hadn’t been any help, pulling that stunt on their first show of agreeing with every one of her reviews. She’d turned the tables on him and used his ploy against him.

  He couldn’t let her come out on top again. What he needed was an unfair advantage….

  Suddenly he sat straight up and snapped his fingers, indicating he’d just had a brilliant idea.

  Noah watched him uneasily.

  A sly grin teased Kyle’s lips. “What would you think, Noah, about doing the theme show unscripted?” he asked.

  “Why would you want to do that?” Noah wondered.

  “To give the show an added edge,” Kyle answered, not voicing another more devious reason.

  He knew Amanda would hate the idea. It was hard to be perfect when you were live. He was bound and determined to ruffle her feathers.

  AMANDA WAS STILL FURIOUS. She couldn’t believe what Kyle had done. At first when he’d told her, she’d thought he was joking.

  But he hadn’t been.

  How dare he go behind her back and get Noah’s approval to do the “Love Scenes” theme show unscripted. She was going to look like a fool, she just knew it. She punched the love seat’s pillow, pretending it was Kyle. He knew she liked everything planned carefully so there would be no slipups. Knowing that, he’d gone right ahead and proposed his harebrained idea.

  It was a low-down, underhanded, yellow-bellied, snake-in-the-grass thing to do. She punched the pillow again and then picked it up and threw it across the room in a temper. There was no way she was going to let Kyle get away with what he’d done unscathed, she vowed.

  There was nothing she could do about the show. Noah had already approved Kyle’s idea. She’d have to do the show Kyle’s way, and he’d no doubt throw her a curve the way he had on their first show. But, she remembered, she’d managed to come out on that show okay, hadn’t she?

  Feeling better for having recalled how she’d managed to ad-lib her way out of adversity, she got up and paced the floor, chewing her bottom lip.

  Kyle’s comments about her objection to doing the show unscripted still stung. He’d called her rigid and uptight.

  He didn’t understand. She was a warm, seductive woman. A woman who sometimes gave in to temptation. Walking over to her desk, she pulled open the drawer where she kept the pale pink stationery and the small bottle of Pleasure perfume. She was going to get even, if only secretly.

  AMANDA WASN’T HOME five minutes when the doorbell began its insistent appeal. She was in no mood to face a salesman. Traffic on the way back from delivering the fantasy letter to Kyle’s apartment had been a snarled mess. She had used the knowledge that Kyle was playing in a charity basketball game sponsored by the station to assure she wouldn’t be discovered. Glancing down at her silver watch, she saw that the game wouldn’t be over for a few minutes.

  The cup of tea in her hand clattered to the counter when the salesman began leaning on the doorbell again. After quickly wiping up the spilled tea, Amanda hurried to the door to dispatch him. Kyle wouldn’t think she was so ladylike if he could hear the words she was muttering beneath her breath, she thought.

  Jerking open the door when she reached it, she made ready to freeze the hapless salesman with a single look.

  It was she who froz
e, instead.

  Kyle Fox filled her doorway with a rock star’s blatant virility. He was freshly showered, and like the first time she’d seen him, his clean, masculine scent assaulted her senses. She stepped back unconsciously, resisting the urge to touch his still-damp hair curling slightly at the ends.

  Why wasn’t he at the basketball game? Where had he been when she’d delivered her fantasy letter to his place—in the shower? Had he gotten out to discover who she was and followed her home…?

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked, interrupting her wildly racing imagination.

  “Uh…yes, of course,” she answered, swallowing dryly. A moment later an alarm signal went off in her mind. Oh no. Had she put away the pale pink stationery and the perfume?

  She backed toward the desk as he entered.

  “How come you didn’t come and watch me play in the charity basketball game this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Uh…” she stammered, feeling behind her to make sure the desk was clear of evidence. “Uh…the basketball game?”

  “Yeah the charity game KCNX sponsored.” He eyed her curiously. “Look, is there something wrong?”

  She breathed a sigh of relief when her hands told her the desk was clear. “No. No, of course not. I was napping when you rang the bell is all,” she lied, moving away from the desk. “Did you win the…ah… basketball game?” she asked, taking a seat on the arm of the love seat.

  “I don’t know. I fouled out and left early after signing autographs for the crowd.” His blue eyes twinkled. “It’s not too late for you to get one. I’ll even personalize it for you,” he offered with a wicked grin as he moved to her desk to get a pen and paper from the drawer.

  “No!” Amanda objected, her heart lodging in her throat.

  The alarm in her voice stopped him instantly.

  He turned and looked at her curiously. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

  He wasn’t a dummy. She had to come up with a better reason for her odd behavior than being sleepy. Flailing around in her mind, she plucked the first reason she came up with that she thought he might buy. “Yes, there is something wrong, and you know good and well what. You purposely went behind my back to get Noah’s approval to do the theme show unscripted, and now you come over acting like nothing’s changed, offering me your…your autograph!”