by Peggy Jaeger
Tiffany fingered the fur before tossing it on the love seat. “About this Queen of the Night one.” She pointed to the costume in her closet. “I’m a little, well, I don’t know exactly how to say this. A little concerned, I guess, about how much skin is going to show. I’ve never been so bare before, and I’m afraid when I do a lay back spin even more of me will be exposed.”
Sean took the item in question from the closet. “Betty used illusion material in the holes to prevent that.”
“I know, but there’s still so much of me visible. A bathing suit covers more than this does.”
He held the costume on its hanger. It was a sheer, deep black satin jumpsuit with flowing legs and arms. The neckline plunged in a deep “V” to Tiffany’s navel, the bodice covered with the transparent illusion material he’d mentioned. It was backless to the top of the hip, held together by silk thread sewed into the material. Down the side, Betty, Tiffany’s costume designer, had placed strategic holes to give the impression the costume had been sliced. One hole crossed over the side of Tiffany’s breast, another down the expanse of her hip.
It was the most alluring costume she’d ever worn, and the most dangerous looking. A perfect complement to the highly suggestive routine Sean had choreographed.
“I’m just not confident it’s going to hold together with all the vigorous movements I’ll be making. The last thing I want is a wardrobe malfunction during the show. I don’t think I could go on again if that happened.”
“Put it on and let me see,” he said. “We can get an idea of how it’s going to hold up when you come down the ramp for the pictures. If you feel uncomfortable a’tall in it then, we’ll have Betty reconfigure and redesign it, okay, lass?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll wait outside. Call me when you’re ready.”
****
Cole found Sean waiting outside Tiffany’s dressing room. “Have you been banished?” he asked the director, shaking his hand.
“She’s changing.”
Cole nodded. “Anything unusual been going on around here?”
“Nothing, and I’ve been saying prayers of thanks every night before bed. For the past three days this show’s run like a well-sprung clock. I’m beginning to think my previous suspicions were the result of too little sleep and too much paranoia.”
“Let’s hope that’s true.”
“Come on in,” Tiffany called out.
Cole held the door open while Sean walked through.
Tiffany stood on a footstool, her hands squarely on her hips, looking down at the costume as it hung from her body.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Before Sean could comment, Cole did. “Holy crap! What the heck is that, a piece of black tape?”
Tiffany’s back shot straight up as she glowered at him. “It’s a costume, you Philistine. For one of my routines.”
“A costume? If you take a deep breath, the thing looks like it’ll rip right off you.”
Tiffany’s eyebrows shot up her forehead.
“God, Tiff, I can see more of you than is decent to see in public.”
“This costume is supposed to elicit a fantasy.” Sean walked around Tiffany and eyed the outfit.
“I can just picture some of those fantasies”—Cole frowned—“and the perverts who’ll be doing the fantasizing. I don’t think you should wear it.”
“That does it!” Tiffany stuck out her chin defiantly, turned to Sean and said, “I’ve changed my mind. It’ll be fine for the number. Come on, I promised the photographers I’d be ready by now.”
She stepped down from the stool and collided with Cole’s arms as he grabbed her. “You’re going to have pictures taken in this?”
“Publicity shots for the programs,” Sean explained.
“Tiffany, don’t. Please.” Cole squeezed her arm. “This thing’s indecent. It’s not you. Think what your mother would say.”
“That’s precisely why I’ve decided to wear it. You’re right. It isn’t me. And this number isn’t supposed to be me either. As for my mother, I’m not five years old, Cole, despite what you think. Now get out of my way, I have to get my skates on.”
“Come on, lad.” Sean hustled him out of the small room.
“How can you let her wear that?” Cole asked while Sean pulled him toward the rink.
“Relax. She’ll be fine in it. And she’s right. It fits the routine perfectly.”
In the arena, center ice was set up with photographic equipment and scenery.
“What’s the cannon for?” Cole asked.
“The routine. Tiffany skates down the ramp while fireworks shoot from the cannon behind her.”
“Fireworks? Is that safe?”
“These are. Lots of noise and lights, no real gunpowder. Don’t worry. It’s a stage trick. Nothing is going to happen to her.”
Tiffany skated out to center ice. The photographer had set up his equipment to shoot her in close-up, speeding down the ramp, with the wings of the costume flying about behind her. The floor crew had loaded the cannon with a small amount of explosive to light the shot as she skated.
“You all ready?” Tiffany asked.
Jimmy Anderson, the photographer, nodded. “We’ll try and get it right the first time, Tiffany, so the cannon doesn’t have to be reloaded.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“You know what to do, lass.” Sean helped her walk up the ramp in her skates.
“Of course I do,” she snapped. “How many times have we rehearsed this?” In the next moment she apologized for her surliness.
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “You’re always this way.”
Most of the cast members were costumed and waiting along the arena floor for their turns to be photographed.
“Okay?” she called from the top.
“Ten seconds,” Jimmy called back.
Tiffany stood at the top of the ramp, poised to skate down.
“Ten…nine…eight…”
The cannon shot off. The force propelled Tiffany down the ramp at a dangerous speed. Her scream was muffled by the resounding boom of the explosion. Cole saw her face, registered the abject fear on it, and watched, helplessly, as she careened downward.
Pandemonium erupted on the ice. Cole shot over to Tiffany, slipping once and falling in his haste to reach her. When he finally made it to her, she was sitting on her backside, head cradled in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sean was at her side, screaming at everyone around them.
“Lass, can you hear me?” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Please tell me you can hear me, darlin’.”
Tiffany nodded. “Barely.”
Cole knelt down in front of her. “Are you hurt anywhere? Your ankle?”
“I don’t think so, but my head feels like it was blown off.”
“What the hell was that?” Jimmy screamed to the scenery crew. “You said the timer was set with only a fourth of the explosive.”
No one answered.
“Find out what happened,” Sean bellowed. “Now.”
“Come on, Tiff, let’s get you up.” Cole lifted her by the upper arms. Her entire body trembled beneath his hands. “Can you stand?”
She nodded. “My ankle’s fine.”
“The explosion shot you straight down. I thought…God, I don’t know what I thought.”
She stared up at him. “Luckily, the ramp’s not that steep, and I’ve gone down it hundreds of times. But my head sure hurts.”
“I’m taking you home. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Tiffany offered no resistance.
“Good idea,” Sean said. “Let her lie down.”
“This shoot’s done for the day,” Jimmy said.
“This shoot’s done, period,” Cole said. There was no doubt he meant it. “Come on, Tiff. Let’s go get your things.”
Cole walked her back to her dressing room, his arms securely around her still shaking shoulders.
“I have to change,” she said when they entered the room.
Her voice sounded unbelievably small.
“No, you don’t. Just throw on your coat. We’ll cab it home.”
At the curb he managed to hail a taxi immediately. He gave the address and then sat back to gather Tiffany in his arms.
“You know,” she said, disappearing into the folds of his coat, “I’m beginning to think I’m jinxed.”
Cole waited two heartbeats. “What do you mean?”
“First my ankle and now this. It’s as if some higher power doesn’t want me to do this show.”
Maybe not such a higher power. “It was just an accident, Tiff. Both were.”
“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. She snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes.
Seconds later, they were home.
“Why don’t you go lie down for a while,” Cole said.
“Not a bad idea, especially since we have to be ready by six.”
“What? Oh, God, I forgot. Mike’s dinner.”
“They’re picking us up here. Promise you’ll be ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. I will. Don’t worry. Now scat. I have a few things to do.”
Tiffany drifted into her bedroom. “ ’Kay.”
When she shut the door behind her, Cole sprang for the phone. “Sean, listen. Tiffany said something in the cab that got me thinking. What if this accident today wasn’t really an accident?”
“I’m way ahead of you, lad. I’ve already gone over the ramp and the rigging m’self. Something’s off, but I can’t put me finger on it. I called a friend of mine a few moments ago. He’s a sort of expert on pyrotechnics, fireworks, and the like. He’s coming down here right away to give the set a once-over. I’ve already closed the bloody thing to everyone connected with the show.”
“Good idea. If it was done deliberately, you don’t want the person responsible coming back and getting rid of any evidence.”
“Aye, my thinkin’ exactly. Does Tiffany suspect anything?”
“I don’t think so. She did mention, off the cuff, about feeling like she was jinxed.”
“Nothing supernatural about this, lad, that’s for sure. I’ve got to go. Take care of her for me.”
“You can bet I will.” Cole ended the call.
“If what was done deliberately?”
He swirled around to see Tiffany, garbed in a robe now instead of the seductive costume, standing behind him.
“I thought you were going to rest.”
“I am. But I want a cup of tea first. Who were you talking to?”
“No one, Tiff. It doesn’t concern you.”
“Don’t lie to me, Cole. I can always tell. Your left eyebrow gives you away every time.”
Self-consciously, he rubbed the area with his thumb.
“It was Sean, wasn’t it?”
Her voice rose a pitch.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
“What was done deliberately? What were you talking about?”
Cole sighed, long and deep. He scraped his hands through the sides of his hair and stared at her. “Tiff, we didn’t want you to concern yourself with this, not before the opening.”
“Concern myself with what? What are you talking about…” Her eyes widened. “I’m not jinxed, am I? Someone’s deliberately done these things. The skate, the explosion. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Her voice had lowered, icicles dripping from it.
“Sean thinks so, and I agree. Your skate had been tampered with. Sean looked at it after you were taken to the hospital and the blade was definitely loosened. He thinks someone rigged the explosion today to go off ahead of schedule.”
“But who could know when I would be ready for the shoot?”
“Tiffany.” He reached out for her, but she smacked his hand away.
“Oh, my God. It’s someone in the show, isn’t it? Someone I skate with.”
Cole ignored her resistance and went to her, took her in his arms and cradled her to his body. “Hush, Brat. It’s going to be okay.”
Tiffany’s anger exploded. She put her hands on his chest and shoved away from him. “Okay? How can you stand there and say that to me? I could have been hurt by either of those supposed accidents. Seriously. So that maybe I couldn’t ever skate again. How can you stand there and tell me it’ll be okay?” Glaring with the full force of her fury visible to him, she said, “And how dare you both keep it from me.”
“Tiff, we didn’t want to worry you, you were so concerned about the show being perfect, doing well, Sean and I both thought—”
“Wrong,” she said, slicing her hand in the air. “Neither of you thought at all. How dare you keep something so important from me? Damn it, Cole, I have a right to know if my life is being tampered with. Who do you think you are, keeping something like that from me?”
“Tiff, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you—”
“Correct. You didn’t think. You never do when it comes to me.” She turned and stormed back to her room. The door slammed behind her.
Cole was damned if he’d let her get away with a tantrum. He’d handled the situation the way he’d done in order to protect her. With equal amounts of anger and irritation beginning to seep into him, he shoved the door open. “Wait just one minute, you spoiled little brat.”
Tiffany whirled around, green eyes blazing. “Get out of here. I can’t stand the sight of you, you, control freak!”
“Well, if that’s not the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.”
“Your insults are worthless and cliché, just as you are.” With a maddening deliberation Cole knew was meant to irritate the hell out of him and put him in his place, she calmly sat at her vanity and took the combs from her hair. As she shook it out, free and wild, something inside of Cole snapped. Just as she picked up the hairbrush, Cole grabbed it out of her hand.
“Give me that.” She tried to wrestle it from his grip.
“Not until we settle this.” He dropped it back on the vanity.
“I have settled it. You still think I’m a little girl, running around carefree, who needs protection, who needs to be coddled and kept from the awful truths of life. Well, you couldn’t be more wrong, mister, if you tried.” She poked a finger in his midsection, her fingernail impaling him through his shirt. “This is my life and my career you’ve been screwing with. I won’t allow you ever to do this again—”
Cole wound his hands around her upper arms. “Stop talking.” His voice was barely a whisper in the room, but forged in steel.
Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes grew wide. Twin spots of apple red flushed her cheeks.
“You’re wrong about what I did, Tiff, more wrong than you can ever be about anything.”
When she opened her mouth again, he cut her off.
“No.” His voice gentled. “Let me finish. Maybe you think what I did was wrong, keeping this information from you. Okay. I’ll accept that. But I did it because I care you about, deeply care about you, and I knew how upset you’d be to find out about this. I can’t stand seeing you hurt, Tiffany. I’ve never been able to stand seeing you cry. It kills me. It just kills me.”
Tiffany kept her tongue, her breathing rapid and jagged as she glared up at him.
“I knew how you’d feel about this, how responsible and vulnerable it would make you. I wanted to protect you. Maybe you can’t see it, can’t forgive me for it, but I had to do it. For myself as well as you.”
“It’s unfair,” she said with a sob breaking through. “Both of you treat me like a child. I can’t stand that, Cole.”
He nodded. “I know. I know.” His hands ran up and down her arms, her soft warm skin igniting his fingertips as they caressed her. “But you’re wrong. I don’t see you as a child anymore, Tiffany. Maybe I did. Maybe I’d hoped to keep you that way so I could spoil you, protect you, keep you safe. For so many years you were my little girl. I enjoyed being your hero as much as I complained about it.
” He stared down at her. “But I know you’re a woman now, all woman. And,” he added, lowering his head, finally giving in, “you’re the woman I want. The only woman I want. In my life. In my heart.”
His mouth came close to hers. “Tiffany,” he whispered, grazing his lips over her temple, down her cheek, across her jaw. “Tiffany, I want to make love to you. You, the woman. Here, now. I want you so much I can’t breath.”
A small sob broke from her.
Cole stared into emerald colored eyes rimmed with tears and lost his very soul. When his lips found hers, he knew a serenity that had been a long time coming.
This was right, so very right.
Tiffany’s arms came up around his neck as she answered his kiss with her own. “Cole.”
“Say you want me as much as I want you.” His lips found the small hollow at the base of her throat and skimmed across it. Her pulse pounded against his mouth.
“I’ve wanted you forever,” she said on a sigh.
He pulled back and gazed down into misty eyes, half-closed and drunk with desire. He framed her face with his hands and tilted her head back. “Look at me.”
Her eyes opened fully.
“There’s no going back from here, Tiff. You know it as well as I do.”
She nodded.
“Once we do this, it won’t be the same between us ever again.”
“But it can be better.” She pulled his head back down to hers. “So much better.”
With the hunger known only to a starving man, his mouth devoured hers, drank in its sweet taste. When his tongue slipped past her lips to be welcomed openly, he knew her words were true.
The robe slid effortlessly down her body when he undid the tie. His hands caressed skin as soft as silk, with hard, tight muscles honed to perfection beneath the delectable covering. Cole’s heart quickened when those muscles went lax under his touch. Tiffany’s deep sigh seeped through him as she folded, melded her naked body against his.
Cole pulled back from the kiss, and his eyes drank in every inch of her skin.
“My God, Tiffany,” he whispered, “You’re even more incredible than I imagined.”
“I want to see you too.” Her hands came up to his neck, undid the tie, then the top buttons of his shirt. With swift precision, she undid the rest of it, and yanked it out of his pants. Laying back the sides, she splayed her hands across his chest. The small bulbs of his nipples hardened as her fingers gingerly spread against them, and a bullet of desire shot through his midsection straight to his groin.
