Blazing Bedtime Stories

by Kimberly Raye, Leslie Kelly

  She shook her head, pretending she could scarcely believe it herself. “That’s why it’s so impressive.”

  A hearty laugh broke from his throat. “Ouch,” he said, rubbing his jaw as though she’d struck him. “Excuse me while I recover from that backhanded compliment.”

  “I can tell you’re wounded.”

  He shook his head. “No, but I will be if Highgrove sees I’m still on lunch.” He paused. “This has been nice,” he said, meaning it. “What do you say? Same time tomorrow?”

  She hesitated.

  “Or not,” he countered, hiding his disappointment.

  “Portia’s seeing someone,” she blurted out.

  Gareth blinked, confused. “What?”

  “Portia’s s-seeing someone,” she repeated. “So if that’s why you’re, you know…” She trailed off, gesturing helplessly.

  Understanding suddenly dawned. She thought he was hanging out with her to covertly pump her for information about her sister. Best to clear that up right away.

  “Are you?” he asked pointedly.

  She looked so startled, it was almost heartbreaking. “Er…no.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because you’re the one I’d like to have lunch with.”

  She nodded, letting out small breath. “Okay.”

  And just to make absolutely certain she understood—and because he was powerless to stop himself—Gareth leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. An electric current zipped down his spine at the first touch of her skin, making him inhale her scent, something fruity and clean and intensely tantalizing, then to his surprise, his lips moved of their own volition to her mouth.

  She tasted like ginger and oranges and a spicy flavor all her own. His body quickened and a strange sensation took root in his chest—and more familiar ones further south—as she tentatively touched her tongue to his.

  He quaked.

  Then he breathed her in, relishing the pleasure of her lush mouth beneath his, her soft moaning sighs as she moved closer to him, bracketing her hands on his face, then pushing them into his hair. A shiver worked its way through him at her touch.

  He fed at her mouth, deepened the kiss and aligned her body more tightly against his. She was tall and her surprisingly full breasts pressed against his chest, soft and womanly. Gareth slipped his palms over her cheeks, mapping the slopes, testing the hollows of her cheekbones against his hand. Silken threads of her hair slid over his knuckles, making him long to feel more of it against his naked skin.

  The strange attraction morphed into something else, something much stronger. Need chugged hotly through his veins and desire took on a whole new meaning. He’d wanted a woman before, but this was different. Threads of emotion tangled through it, making it much more potent. Much more terrifying.

  Shaken, Gareth brought the kiss to a close while he still could. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice sounding rough and strangled to his own ears.

  Juliet nodded, making a little nonsensical little sound in her throat that kept a smile on his face the rest of the day.

  5

  HE’D KISSED her.

  Juliet didn’t remember walking out of the kitchen, going back to work, actually doing any work, or getting into her car at the end of the day to drive to her favorite art supply store, but somehow she must have done it. Otherwise she wouldn’t be standing in the aisle, holding a bottle of Verdant Grass #512 in her hand. Strictly speaking she didn’t have time to be mooning around like this. She needed to get back to work, but…

  She still couldn’t quite believe it. When she’d told him that Portia was seeing someone and he’d come back with a very direct Are you?, it was a miracle that she hadn’t keeled over in shock. Her poor heart had actually skipped a beat, then raced into a rhythm that made her knees almost buckle. She still hadn’t recovered from the shock when he’d kissed her.

  First her cheek, which had been heartbreakingly perfect, then, as if he simply couldn’t help himself…her mouth.

  And sweet mercy, if anything had ever been more wonderful in her life, Juliet couldn’t recall it. The feel of his tongue sliding over hers, his lips tasting hers, his big hard body pressed boldly against hers. He was warm and dark and thrillingly male and she’d never, never wanted anything as much as she’d wanted him in her life. Gareth was funny and charming and, wonder of wonders, seemed to find her attractive. That significant bulge she’d felt pressed against her belly had left little doubt about that.

  It was mind-boggling.

  Other than a couple of clumsy experiences in college which had been fueled by too much alcohol, low self-esteem and a bit of curiosity, Juliet’s sexual education was sadly lacking. Sure, she could have trolled the local bars and snagged a string of one-night stands. But that wasn’t her style. She’d found her niche in the art world, had discovered a sense of self-worth which had always eluded her and that little boost to her ego had bolstered her pride and prevented her from lowering her standards. She wanted to meet a guy, date, then take things to the next level. She wanted to follow the natural order of things, not jump ahead to the main event out of some misguided sense of sexual urgency. It didn’t mean she didn’t want—she did. It just meant she refused to settle.

  And for the first time in her life, she actually didn’t think she would have to. If she was reading things correctly—and she didn’t see how she couldn’t be—Gareth Harper liked her.

  Juliet basked in the warm glow of that thought as she paid for her purchases and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The puffy Valentine hearts and pink streamers advertising the coming holiday didn’t scream “Failure!” at her quite so loudly.

  “It’s her!” a confident male voice shouted.

  Startled, Juliet turned and found a bleached-blond, dark-browed, dark-eyed, tanned, stocky man in a white linen shirt and khaki trousers pointing at her. A pair of black designer sunglasses were resting on his forehead and a silver angel-wing earring dangled from his right lobe. A small camera crew trailed after him.

  Oh, hell. They’d found her. And once again, they’d brought cameras.

  “Good evening, darling,” the man said, staring at her hair with a critical eye. “What’s your name?”

  “Why?” she asked suspiciously. Was this some sort of trick?

  He chuckled. “Because I’m Eros Amore with Channel Six’s Makeover Madness and you have been chosen for a random makeover.”

  So he wasn’t with the local news? Or related to the kissmyasscupid thing?

  He leaned in and fingered a strand of her hair. “I can make that guy you’re into really sit up and take notice,” he whispered in her ear. Then he leaned back. “Are you a fan of the show?”

  He could make the guy she was into sit up and take notice? How did he know she was into someone? Of course, it could just be a line to convince her to play along, but the comment hit a little too close to home. Very strange, Juliet thought.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Laughing, Eros rounded and faced his entourage. “A virgin!” he said, before turning back to her. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Here’s how it works. You turn yourself over to me and my crew for the next two hours and we’re going to make you over. New ’do, new makeup—” his gaze slid over her outfit “—and a few fashion tips. Are you free?”

  “Free,” she admitted, which wasn’t altogether true. She really needed to log in a few more hours at Highgrove’s mansion. “But not interested, thank you.” She turned and started to walk away.

  Eros tsked loudly. “No room for improvement, eh? That’s awfully arrogant.”

  Arrogant? Her? Was the guy on crack? Juliet stopped and turned around. Eros wore a patronizing smile and blithely polished his nails against his shirt. “I didn’t say there wasn’t room for improvement. I merely said I wasn’t interested. There’s a difference.”

  “So you don’t care how you look?”

  “I’m happy with myself,” Juliet lied, releasing a sile
nt sigh of relief when a bolt of lightning didn’t strike her down.

  He frowned, seemingly puzzled. “Are you a woman?”

  She could feel her blood pressure rising. For some reason she was getting the distinct impression that Eros whatshisname was purposely baiting her. Her lips twisted into a humorless smile. “Last time I checked, yes.”

  “Then you’re an anomaly. I’ve been in this business a long time, sister, and I can tell you, I’ve never met a woman yet who was completely satisfied with her appearance.” He took a step forward and lowered his voice. “Let us work our magic with you. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  Juliet felt herself waver. Of course he was right. Who wouldn’t want to look better? And he’d unwittingly struck her Achilles’ heel. Still, she’d been to dozens of stylists over the years and had never been happy with the end result. And makeup…She hated it. Aside from not liking the way it felt on her skin, she wasn’t altogether certain she’d be able to apply it.

  “Look,” she said, giving her head a small shake. “I appreciate the offer, but this—” she gestured to her hair “—is as good at it gets and make-up isn’t my thing. It’s just too much trouble.”

  He glanced down at the bag in her hand. “You’re an artist, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Then you know that the proper tools make all the difference in the world. Gimme a chance,” he implored, as if it were almost personal for him. He jerked his head over his shoulder, indicating the people behind him. “You’re killing me here. What have you got to lose?” He smiled engagingly. “Hair grows back and makeup washes off.”

  He was right, Juliet decided. What could it hurt? A secret part of her thrilled at the idea of reinventing herself. At showing up tomorrow morning at Highgrove’s house looking better than she’d left it. She didn’t expect Eros and his crew to work a miracle on her, but he was right. There was definitely room for improvement.

  Juliet nodded. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it. But nothing too radical with my hair.”

  TWO HOURS later, after much cutting and blow-drying, waxing, moisturizing and applying of makeup, Eros looked at her and beamed. The little salon next to the art supply store had provided the room and necessary equipment for her makeover and he’d sent one of his minions down the street to a local boutique to pick out a new outfit. Juliet had been ushered into a room without a mirror and instructed to change. The brown cowl-necked sweater was a soft delight against her skin and the matching tweed pants would never have been anything she’d chosen for herself, but she had to admit they felt nice and fit well.

  “Are you ready?” Eros asked.

  Juliet released a shaky breath and felt a nervous smile shape her lips. “I don’t know. Am I?”

  Eros leaned in closer, as though he were about to impart something important. She’d actually come to like the impertinent little man quite a lot over the past couple of hours. “Listen, I don’t say this often because I think the term gets tossed around a little too lightly these days, but you’re beautiful.”

  Her breath caught. Before she could protest or utter a single word, he whirled the chair around to the mirror. Dimly she noted the cameras zooming in, presumably to catch her reaction.

  She barely recognized the woman staring back at her.

  It was her body, her face, but they were…different. Her hand flew to her hair and she tentatively touched a strand. She smiled, stunned, and her heart began to race.

  “You have great hair,” Eros said. “It just needed a better cut. And it will be amazingly simple to take care of. Just blow it dry and everything will fall into place. No curling necessary.”

  It was still long, but no longer all one length. The stylist had angled the sides to swing toward her face, starting just below her jaw. The effect was nothing short of amazing. It opened up her face and rather than hide the sharp angle of her jaw, seemed to highlight it.

  As for makeup, he’d used a mineral-based sort that didn’t feel the least bit sticky. His artist had applied a light dusting of a deep-rose-colored blush on her cheeks, emphasizing the hollows, a pale shimmering gold on her lids and just the smallest amount of mascara. Her lips were colored in a soft gleaming shade just a hint darker than her own color. Small changes, but ones that had a dramatic effect. As an artist, she could certainly appreciate them. She didn’t necessarily agree that she was beautiful, but pretty?

  Yes, she thought, blinking back tears. She laughed, amazed at the change, and turned to Eros. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He rocked back on his heels, pleased with himself. “What do you think of the outfit?”

  Juliet had been so busy staring at her head, she’d neglected to look at the rest of her body. She stood and did a half turn, inspecting herself in the mirror. The sweater was a great color on her—not too dark, but definitely a complimentary shade—and hugged the curve of her breasts in a very flattering style. And the pants were particularly nice. Very slimming.

  “I adore it,” she said. “It’s lovely.”

  “You’re lovely,” Eros told her. “We’ve arranged for a complimentary wardrobe at Jenny’s Boutique where this came from. See her and she’ll outfit you.” He explained the makeup, which ultimately consisted of five little things—hardly the arsenal of supplies she’d imagined—and how to use them. “You’ll need to keep the brows waxed. It’s tedious, I know, but necessary. Your hair will need a trim every six weeks. Lisa here at A Cut Above will take care of that for you.” He handed her two cards. “Your next appointment has already been scheduled. Don’t miss it,” he warned. “And here’s my card if you need me. I do special occasions as well.”

  Juliet smiled, overwhelmed. “I don’t know that I’ll—”

  “You will,” he said, sounding so certain she was inclined to believe him. “Good night, Juliet,” he said. “And good luck.”

  “With what?”

  Another enigmatic smile turned his lips and the angel-wing earring caught a particularly bright flash of light. “Love. It’s in the air this time of year, after all.”

  And with that parting comment, he ushered her out of the door of the salon.

  For the first time in her life, she was actually optimistic about Valentine’s Day.

  6

  GARETH WALKED into the boudoir where Juliet was working and drew up short, unprepared for the sight that met him.

  “Wow,” he breathed before he could stop himself.

  Juliet turned and smiled, her dark eyes highlighted by the faintest hint of a gold shadow, a sheer rosy color painted on her mouth. But it was her hair which had undergone the biggest change. Instead of the ponytail, her long straight locks hung in a tapered curtain around her face, particularly along her jaw, emphasizing its unique shape.

  He’d dreamed about licking it last night. Again, in the grotto.

  She fingered a lone strand. “I got a haircut last night.”

  “I see that,” he said, knowing that he was gawking at her but unable to make himself stop. The difference was…breathtaking.

  She looked…sexy. Gorgeous.

  Smiling, he released a shaky breath and sidled forward for a closer view. “Juliet, you look great,” he said. “Not that you didn’t look great before,” he added hastily. “But—”

  “There’s always a little room for improvement,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “It’s okay. I know what you mean.”

  “I’m just surprised at the difference,” he said. He slid his finger along the line of her jaw. “I love the way it hugs your jaw.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “It’s very sexy.”

  “Th-thank you,” she said, a bit breathlessly, an embarrassed tinge of color washing over her creamy skin. She blinked, seemingly confused. “Is it lunch time already?”

  He chuckled, remembering why he’d sought her out. “No,” he said. “It’s only nine, but I wanted to ask you something and didn’t want to wait. I hope you don’t mind the interruption.” He glanced around the room, taking note of the
scenes she’d sketched.

  So far, the Beast, whom she’d managed to make attractive, and Beauty were locked in a passionate embrace. Beauty was rocking some serious cleavage and didn’t look the least bit terrified. On the other wall, Little Red Riding Hood’s cloak was slipping off a bare shoulder and she was looking behind her at the Big Bad Wolf with a come-hither grin. Rather than draw an actual wolf or beast, she’d painted men with those qualities. Beast was a large, muscled man with a strong jaw and big hands. The wolf had been drawn with sharp eyes and a lean frame. She’d done a beautiful job on the sketching, but hadn’t applied the first bit of paint yet.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve still got to finish up the Ugly Duckling scene and—” she pointed to the wall which held the door “—I’m putting a Secret Garden scene over there.”

  He nodded, impressed. “Nice,” he said, then paused. “You know, I actually have a Juliet Swan original,” he told her.

  Shock registered on her face, then morphed into a slow pleased smile. “Really?”

  Trying to ignore the bed in the background and how she would look sprawled naked across it, Gareth struggled to focus. “I do. I bought it for myself last Christmas,” he said. “From Linda’s Gallery on Broad Street, downtown.” His gaze tangled with hers. “It’s the one called ‘Reflection.’ It’s…haunting,” he said, for lack of a better description. “I get a weird feeling in my chest every time I look at it.”

  Almost identical to the one he got every time he looked at her, Gareth realized. Breathless. In perpetual anticipation.

  A surprised chuckle bubbled up her throat and her expression took on a wondering look. “I love that painting,” she admitted. “In fact, I was reluctant to part with it, but Linda was adamant. She insisted on including it with the others.” Her gaze searched his and a ghost of a smile touched her ripe mouth. “I’m glad that you’ve got it and that you’re enjoying it. That means a lot.”