Chapter 15
"Let me entertain you…"
She awoke to a deep baritone voice singing in the shower. It was Jack, she realized, and snuggled deeper into the pillow. He was singing the opening song from the show they'd seen the night before. Groaning, Mairie opened her lids and slammed them shut immediately as light pierced through to her aching brain. Her hangover alarm echoed relentlessly through her body. Suddenly, from behind the pain, an image came to her consciousness. Something she had seen in the second her eyes opened. She had to make sure. She shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted into the sunlit room.
Jack's bed hadn't been slept in.
She remembered, sort of remembered, asking him to sleep with her last night.
Another deep groan escaped her lips as thinking made her head pound harder. She sensed her blood pumping through her veins and every nerve ending in her body told her reality was here and she wished she wasn't.
She didn't! She couldn't have! She did! The proof was right there, and he was singing in the shower! Hearing the faucet squeaking off, Mairie lay in bed completely still, attempting to ease the torture and figure out what the heck had happened. Obviously, she'd had too much to drink. She wasn't going to punish herself for that, since she'd had one hell of a week so far, but this… what had she done?
She'd made a complete fool of herself.
"Good morning, Mairie. You're awake. It's a beautiful day, and I feel great!"
His greeting had the opposite effect on her. More evidence that something had happened last night, but what? Part of her was pissed that she couldn't recall much more than falling into bed. It had to have been an incredible experience. What a shame she couldn't remember any of it. Just her luck, to suffer this embarrassment and be left with a blank memory.
"Good morning," she murmured, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Are you finished in the bathroom?" She needed to make an escape.
"Yes. The convenience is all yours."
Okay, she thought, all she had to do was somehow get up and walk past him. The getting up part seemed monumental. Forcing her body to move, she barely opened her eyes as she sat up. She was in her jeans.
Her jeans!
Blinking at her legs, she thought, there's no way he could have gotten her jeans off and back on again … she would have remembered something about that! Relief swept through her body. Nothing had happened. At least, nothing serious. Now her embarrassment was merely from getting soused. But she could deal with that. She couldn't deal with the other. Not that, and not drunk. If it ever happened, she would make sure she was stone cold sober. She didn't want to miss a second.
"Morning," she whispered again with a weak smile, and walked past him to the bathroom.
"How are you feeling, Mairie?" he said in a cheerful tone. Way too cheerful for her sensitive ears.
"Fine, I guess. I'll know better once I wash this hangover out of my head." She shut the door behind her. She didn't mean to be rude, but she needed privacy and a shower before she would feel human again. That, and an industrial-strength painkiller.
Using the bathroom phone, she ordered breakfast for him, a pot of coffee for her. She turned on the shower water and steam immediately began filling the air. Her clothes almost peeled off her body. Spending over twenty hours in jeans didn't exactly enhance her sleeping experience. Yet she remembered a flash of something. A security. The feeling of being so protected, almost cherished, when she fell asleep.
She hoped that wasn't her imagination.
When she emerged from the bathroom in her robe, she saw that Jack was clad in jeans and a pale yellow T-shirt. He was sitting at the table, drinking his coffee and reading the complimentary newspaper. He looked up as she entered the bedroom and smiled.
"Shall I pour you some coffee, Mairie?"
"Thanks." Her head still throbbed and she knew she'd have to get down to the hotel gift shop to purchase something for the pain. She just couldn't drink that Alka Seltzer again.
"Did you pay for this?" she asked, seeing his breakfast was half eaten.
Again he smiled as he placed her filled cup in front of the seat opposite him. "I even tipped the waiter. Just as you did yesterday."
She sat down and tightened her robe around her. "Good. I'm glad you're learning the customs here."
He set the folded paper down beside his place setting then leaned back. "You're a good teacher." He seemed to look even deeper into her eyes as he raised his coffee cup to his lips.
Yeah, that's a good one, she thought. Some education. Hard Liquor 101.
She tried to smile, but even that hurt. "Jack, I'm sorry if I did anything… well, anything silly last night. It's been some time since I've been drinking."
"Stop apologizing. You were… delightful."
Somehow, the way he said "delightful" made her wonder again if it were possible to perform the jeans trick without her knowing. No, Jack wouldn't take advantage of her. She knew that.
"Mairie, when you feel better, I would like you to explain this war I've been reading about." Offering his plate, he changed the subject and asked, "You don't want anything to eat?"
In her best etiquette she attempted not to recoil. "Oh, please—no, thank you, but you go right ahead." She didn't want to see or think of anything fried for a very long time. "What war?" she asked, as she sipped the restorative black liquid.
"All this reporting of murders across the country. I am reading stories and statistics. I was wondering if that's why you're getting us identification papers. Is the country at war again? Is that why the young boy had a gun yesterday?"
She could only stare at him. It would seem that way to someone from his time. "It's an undeclared war, Jack," she murmured, holding the cup with both hands.
"That must be why I haven't seen anyone in uniform," he stated, while absentmindedly rolling the newspaper into a tube.
She shook her head. "I don't know how to explain this, but you experienced a bit of it yesterday in the mall. Guns are everywhere. It's like… like Tombstone all over the country, and no one knows what to do about it."
"I don't wish to get involved in another war. I have no fondness for guns myself, I use one only for hunting, but we may need to protect ourselves as well. I left my rifle back in the cave. Perhaps I should purchase a weapon?"
"No." The word rang out in the room and Mairie was shocked at her tone of voice. She didn't have the right to tell him what to do.
"I'm sorry," she again apologized. "That's really your decision, but they won't allow you on the airplane with a gun."
"Now I'm sorry. I've upset you." He tossed the paper to the floor and added, "We won't discuss it any further." He paused. "But there is something else I wanted to speak to you about, if you don't mind."
She smiled, thankful for his perception. She really didn't have the mental strength right now to explain modern day gun ownership. "Of course, I don't mind. Just nothing too heavy. I have a… a headache this morning."
"Ahh… to be expected, my dear," he smiled slyly, "one of the evils of drink." He winked at her. "However, I shall endeavor to pamper you all day until you've recovered, madam."
"You seem so chipper." She appreciated his thoughts and hoped her voice didn't slightly tinge with jealousy.
"I feel very well, though I could do with a good shave." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I'll need to find a barber or get myself a razor today."
She thought he looked quite dashing with the couple days' growth. How ironic, it was a fashion statement these days.
"And also, please do not take offense, but last night I noticed all the ladies dressed more formally than in these jeans, as you call them." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee, as though doing a temperature check on how she was handling the delicate insinuation.
"And…?" She wasn't about to help him, since she had no idea where this one was leading.
"And I thought perhaps we should purchase a dress for you. I know you are trying to be frugal with the money, but you do wear dresses, don't you?"
"Quite often, in fact." She couldn't help sounding a bit offended. When she looked up from her coffee, she saw his intention was sincere and was touched by his sweet offer. "Jack, that is your money. You don't need to spend it on—"
"Mairie," he interrupted, putting his cup back onto the saucer. "I wouldn't even have it, if you didn't ask me to purchase those silver dollars from Virginia. It would be an honor. And you could assist me in finding a tailor. I need a suit. Haven't worn one in years, yet I see in all the advertisements men do wear them. The styles for men haven't changed much in all these years. Women, on the other hand…"
He let his words trail off and Mairie said, "I would imagine many of the current fashions are shocking to you. Like me wearing pants. You know, I wish I could have this discussion with you, but I have to get dressed and go down to the gift shop for some Advil, a… a pain medicine. I must admit to nursing a hangover." She smiled sheepishly.
"I'll go," he said, already pushing back his chair.
"No, I'll go," she said, taking her coffee with her as she got up and moved around the room. "I'll just throw on my jeans and shirt. I'll be right back."
"You never answered me."
She turned around at the dresser. "About what?"
"Allowing me to purchase a dress for you. If you feel better tonight, we can have a nice dinner at one of the restaurants here. I have read that there are six different ones in this hotel. One appears to be quite nice."
Smiling, she said, "That's very kind of you. I would be delighted to wear a dress and have dinner with you tonight. Thank you, Jack. But first let me get something for my head."
She took her clothes into the bathroom to change and, seeing herself in the mirror, she groaned. How in the world was she ever going to pull her act together enough to go shopping and look dazzling by tonight.
Miracles.
She needed one.
In the gift shop, she bought a razor, Advil, and some Lifesavers for her dry mouth. As she was standing at the counter to pay, she noticed a stack of postcards. Most were of the city at night, with the glitter of Las Vegas at different locations. She idly looked them over as she waited for the person in front of her to pay. Her attention was drawn to a shiny white postcard with red lettering.
Go Beyond Reason to Love.
It is safe. It is the only safety.
T. Golas
How odd to find that in a rack of tourist postcards, she thought. She had it in her hand when the cashier called out to her.
"Are you ready?"
She placed her few items on the counter and nodded, yet her thoughts were on that postcard. What an extraordinary thing to read, on this morning too. For some weird reason, she felt like it was a message for her. Probably everyone who read it felt the same way. She was just being foolish.
As she walked out of the shop, Mairie spied a water fountain and took out the Advil. Popping three into her mouth, she gulped water and swallowed. The lobby and casino were already busy and she headed for the elevator. Riding up to the room, she couldn't get it out of her head.
Love was the only safety?
The thought stayed with her for the remainder of the morning and into the afternoon.
Jack was so attentive to her every need that Mairie felt almost guilty for only suffering from a hangover. He patiently waited as she tried on several dresses, not wanting to see what she had purchased. He said he preferred to be surprised later in the evening. She'd found something terrific, a clingy black dress with long tapering sleeves that wrapped tightly around her wrists. It had tiny covered buttons that started at the deep V neck and ran down the front of the flared skirt to her ankles. It was simple, yet elegant. She even bought an inexpensive pair of black high heels. When Jack saw her stop at a makeup counter, he insisted she buy a few items and she so wanted them that she told him the money he spent would only be a loan. She intended to repay him when she got to Philadelphia, no matter how much he protested.
Mairie didn't know if she felt better because the Advil had kicked in, or because she was going to dress up and have another date with Jack. For if last night was an almost date, tonight was the real thing.
They came back to the room around three o'clock. Mairie was initially surprised that Jack assimilated everything so well, without overloading his brain. He certainly was a remarkable man, but even he was glad to return to the room and sit down. Shopping had drained them both.
Looking at the garment bags on the bed, surrounded by packages, he grinned. "I suppose it's about time I had a suit. It may feel strange to wear one again. Been almost ten years."
"Really?" Then she remembered he had said yesterday it took him years to make his way back to Nevada and the Paiutes. "Well, you'll look smashing tonight. The salesman in the department store assured me of that." Since he had wanted to be surprised, she'd thought she might as well be the same. She had placed Jack in the hands of a well-dressed clerk and had left them for an hour as she went dress hunting.
"Let me hang them up," she said, and reached down to grab the hangers.
Jack immediately stood. "Here, I'll do that. Rest, Mairie."
She looked at him and smiled. "I can do it. I'm not sick. In fact, I feel much better."
He took the hangers and walked to the closet. "Good. I'm glad you can enjoy the evening."
"We'd better call for reservations," she said and picked up the phone. "What time shall we have dinner?"
He closed the closet door and walked back to the bedroom area. "Is six too early?"
"Not at all." She began dialing the gourmet restaurant. After a few minutes she had their reservation secured and she leaned back against her bed pillows and sighed.
She reached for one of the packages and began rooting. "Here's your razor. You use it just like the old-fashioned ones, except it's safer. I'll show you if you want."
He chuckled. "I would imagine I can figure it out. If I have a problem I'll call you. Though I still find it strange that you plaster something under your arms as part of a daily routine. And tooth powders have been replaced by paste." He sat on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "You're sure I shouldn't cut my hair, Mairie? I haven't seen many males with longer hair. Do I look like those deadheads? I think I should cut it."
Her heart constricted at the thought. "Do whatever you wish," she said as casually as possible. "I like your hair. It's… you."
He seemed to be thinking about it and she mentally crossed her fingers that a haircut was not forthcoming.
"I'll think about it," he finally said. "I do want to blend in."
She laughed. "Oh, Jack. Someone like you will never blend in. You're far too unique to blend in anywhere."
"I thank you for your compliment, Madam, but that sort of defeats our purpose in Philadelphia. We're supposed to blend in, are we not?"
Was he teasing her? She couldn't tell much from that mysterious smile.
"Once you thought of me as a wild man, though I now understand your confusion. I am sorry for the way I treated you when we first met, but you did drive me almost beyond my limit of patience."
She joined his laughter and thought back to their first meeting. The desert, the climb, the waterfall. Don't think about the waterfall, she told herself… though the picture of the back of Jack Delaney, nude, washing the paint from his body, would never leave her mind.
"I'm going to soak in the tub," she announced, and quickly stood up. She took the bags to the low dresser and separated his items from hers. He was so silent that she thought he might have fallen asleep and she was surprised to turn back to the room and find him staring at her.
"Enjoy your bath, Mairie."
Was she still hung over, or did his eyes hold a look of deep desire? Don't think about it, she told herself, as she smiled and walked into the bathroom with her things. She would shave her legs, wash her hair, and still have time for a nap. Some inner guidance told her to be well rested for whatever followed.
She hoped she could leave her teacher role behind for the night and just enjoy being in the company of the man she loved. Loved… even thinking about it stunned her. What a blessing Jack Delaney was, to have come into her life from a hundred years ago and show her that an equal partnership with a male was not only possible. It was natural.
He was her gift.
Maybe Jack was right, maybe the Indian's Coyote god was a trickster, after all.
Coming out of the bathroom, she heard his rhythmic breathing before she saw him. Jack was asleep on top of the bedspread. His legs and arms were crossed, and his chin fell forward to his chest. Smiling, Mairie grabbed one of his T-shirts from the dresser drawer and hurried back into the bathroom. She slipped into it and was pleased that it came to the middle of her thighs. Putting the robe back on, she walked into the room and headed for her bed. How perfect. If she set the alarm for five o'clock, they could both be well rested for this date. That's what she was calling it. This was an official date.
Now all she had to do was fall asleep and not imagine Jack Delaney spooning her as he had done last night. She remembered that. It was a memory and a feeling she would never forget. She slid between the cool, clean sheets and sighed with contentment as her head hit the pillow. In spite of everything, the government, Bryan's illness, everything… she felt blessed. Her life had been altered with that first jump. And what about Jack? What courage it had taken for him to jump. He had done it for her, and that fact still stunned her.
Strange, how one's life could change in an instant of trust.
The annoying noise roused him from a very enjoyable dream and Jack leaned up on his elbow to silence the thing. "I can't stop this time piece from chirping," he muttered.
Mairie groaned and reached out her arm to smack it. Blessed peace followed and Jack dropped his head to the pillow. "Do you need to use the convenience, Mairie?"
She moaned sleepily. "I already took my bath. You use it. You need to shave and take a shower." Waving her hand at him, she added, "Gimme five more minutes."
"Don't fall back asleep. Jack Delaney is not known for being late to his engagements, Miss Callahan." He grinned as he got up and saw that she had snuggled once more against her pillow.
"Five minutes," she whined like a little girl. "Just five minutes."
He was still grinning as he walked into the convenience and closed the door behind him. He bet she fell back asleep. He turned the water on and began his preparations for the evening. Strange… he hadn't felt this excited about anything in a long, long time. Something told him that tonight was going to be special, and he was going to make sure it was. After everything she had been through, Mairie Callahan deserved to be treated like the fine lady she was. It had been a long time since he'd courted a woman, but he remembered.
Somehow he knew all his gentlemanly expertise would be put to a test, for courting Mairie would be a unique experience. An experience he was more than ready to explore.
No more than fifteen minutes could have passed when Jack stepped into the bedroom from the bath, wearing the hotel robe and towel-drying his hair. From beneath the thick cloth he saw his way to the end of her bed. "Madam… your toilette awaits."
Not hearing her reply, he slung the towel around his neck, still holding it with both hands. His eyes cast upon her sleeping. Not much was left to his imagination as she lay on her side atop the comforter, embracing a pillow. He could not withhold his glance from tracing the slope of her hip and thigh. She was in nothing but his T-shirt and her undergarment. She fills my clothing better than I ever will, he thought to himself. He quickly turned and sat on the end of his bed when she inhaled and began to stretch.
"Hmmm… did you say something, Jack?"
"Yes, Mairie… I did. I said I'm finished with the convenience. It's all yours now." He hoped she didn't detect an inflection of guilt in his words.
"Mmmm, okay. I'm up. I'm moving. Really—" She mumbled off in half slumber.
"Mairie Callahan, I threw you over my shoulder once, to get you where we needed to go, and I can do it again." He figured an authoritative tone would more likely wake her and at the same time take his mind off her revealing position. "If that is what I must do, Mairie, I'm prepared to do it."
"And perhaps I'll enjoy it this time." She murmured into the pillow.
"Mairie, you're still sleeping. I can't make out what you're saying. I thought you were looking forward to our engagement this evening." He fought the urge to turn and look at her again. Would she call his bluff? He was cleanly shaven, bathed, and well rested. His instinctual desires were now wide awake and it was becoming more difficult to ignore her beauty and form. "Mairie, please—"
"All right, all right. I'm awake." She sat upright and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Would you like to call for more coffee?" Why didn't he think of ordering coffee before? It would have been better than starting with the caveman approach.
"No, thank you, Jack. I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said with a yawn. She stood and walked to the dresser across the room. His T-shirt fell to her mid-thighs, and he couldn't resist gazing upon her.
"Mairie, don't you think you should put your robe on?" he asked.
She stared at him from the reflection in the mirror. "Oh Jack, please, don't be such a puritan. The way I'm dressed, by today's standards, is entirely acceptable. Don't tell me you've never seen a woman in her night clothes. You have, haven't you?"
Jack directed his eyes to her face. "Of course…" He paused, "Of course I have. I mean, yes. Well, it's just a matter of… it's just the way I was brought up. A lady—"
"Oh, Jack, chill out. A modern lady's sensibilities are not that fragile. If I were embarrassed in front of you, I'd have slept in the robe. But I'm not embarrassed. You're sitting on the end of the bed and I can see your legs. Why are you upset that you can see mine?"
"Because, Mairie, where I come from, women aren't accustomed to showing their legs to their husbands, much less men they've known only a few days." He responded seriously.
Mairie gathered her makeup and walked to stand between his legs. She smiled tenderly down at him. "You've been handling this future shock so well. I keep forgetting the life you left behind had such a radically different view of cultural propriety." She tousled his hair. "I'm so proud of you. You're doin' great." She sighed deeply. "And I can't think of anyone else I would want to escort me to dinner tonight. You are a gentleman in the true sense of the word, Jack Delaney, and I appreciate that."
He watched her completely as she turned away.
"By the way, Jack. It's kind of cute the way you keep calling this the convenience, but these days, we refer to it as the bathroom." She smiled at him again and closed the door.
"Whew." He'd made it. He'd wrestled with Indians, crossed hot deserts in sand storms, climbed mountains, and fought in hand-to-hand combat, and he had never felt so close to being conquered in his entire life. It was difficult enough to watch her walk across the room, in his shirt, but when she stood between his legs, he was almost certain she could sense every nerve in his body paralyzed with desire.
Mairie Callahan not only inflamed his body, she'd ignited his soul. Chill out, she said. Perhaps a dip in an ice-cold river would do him well right now.
He abruptly stood and went to the closet. Removing his suit, he laid it carefully on the bed. Better to busy himself by dressing than to envision the distraction of Mairie's scantily clad form and coquettish manner. Holding his newly tailored trousers in his hand, he stopped walking and stared at the closed bathroom door.
He couldn't recall a time he had hungered for a woman this much. Just thinking about the closeness of her body, knowing she wore nothing underneath that thin shirt, remembering the shapely slant of her waist, hips, and the descent to her thigh made every muscle in his body ache for her. He thought back to the night of the Paiute celebration, how she had looked at him, flirted with him, bewitched him. He had wanted her then, in his time, but he wanted her more in this one. It went beyond wanting. It was a passion. A timeless passion.
As the thought raced through his brain, Jack felt a rush of emotion come alive that he had believed dormant within him. He realized he wanted this night to be special for more than Mairie. He also wanted it for himself. He had spent so much time alone in the last ten years, needing to separate from society and its demands, satisfying himself only with women who understood he was moving on. Now he wanted something more… he wanted to feel vital again, to know intimacy with this remarkable woman who had fallen into his life.
He dressed deliberately, ensuring every seam and crease was exact.
Now for the tie.
He'd always had a problem with these and felt they were too similar to a noose. Nor could he understand why something so confining was still in fashion. However, the white shirt collar folding down was much more comfortable than the raised stiff collars he was accustomed to wearing. He placed the narrow silk tie around his neck and began the procedure of folding and knotting. It took three attempts before he was successful.
Looking into the mirror, he wondered why the clerk had assured him this outrageous colorful design would impress his lady. My lady. Those words resounded in his head.
Yes, he thought, looking into the mirror, he believed he would like Mairie Callahan to be his lady. He reached behind him for his suit coat and slipped it on. Buttoning the double-breasted jacket, as the clerk had called it, he stood back and surveyed his reflection.
He wanted everything to be just right.
The dark blue suit fit as if it had been tailored for him. The shoulders tapered to his waist and the material hung perfectly to his upper thighs. He saw how the contrast against his white shirt set off the swirling colors in the tie. The clerk had been right, and Jack thought he did resemble the pictures he had seen in the store of a properly dressed gentleman of 1999. He fit right in; no one would know he was a recent arrival to this century.
Except for his hair.
He pulled it back and saw he looked much better, more in keeping with others he had seen. He went to the closet and picked up his worn old boots. Untying the short black leather lace above the heel, he brought it with him to the mirror. He gathered his hair at the nape of his neck and looped the lace once around before pulling it taut.
A satisfied grin reflected back at him.
Yes. All he needed now was that fancy toilet water he'd been talked into purchasing by the clerk. Bvlgari. He couldn't even pronounce it. Made by someone called Chanel. Well, Chanel must be a wealthy person, for this small bottle had cost him over seventy dollars.
Splashing a little on his hands, he patted his face and neck and thought he was finally finished. Until he looked down to his feet. Those shoes… Mairie had insisted he needed a new pair and when he asked her which ones she liked, she picked out the soft shiny leather moccasins with tassels. He bought them.
Slipping his feet into them, he had to admit they were comfortable, almost like wearing slippers… and they did look smart with his attire.
All right. Back to the mirror.
Again checking his reflection, Jack was finally satisfied. More than satisfied. Even though he'd almost choked when he had to pay over six hundred dollars for this ensemble, right now it was worth every nickel. He looked… modern. And he eased his conscience by telling himself he not only needed a proper suit, but he would have it for the next twenty years. Mairie was right. Everything cost a fortune here.
Tonight was not the time to be miserly. Tonight he was courting his lady.
Listening to Mairie in the bathroom, and the sound of the device that blew out hot air to dry one's hair, he knew he had some time yet before she made her appearance. He stood in front of the mirror and practiced how he would greet her.
"Good evening, Miss Callahan," he whispered with a smile. "Your radiance all but dims the stars in the velvet desert sky."
He scowled and shook his head. "Good evening, Miss Callahan," he began again. "I am honored to accompany such a vision of loveliness." That's better, he thought. Now he was ready to court her. Still he didn't want his greeting to come out sounding like a bunch of posies.
"Flowers!" How could he court his lady without them?
His mind went blank until he suddenly remembered the flower shop in the hotel lobby. Glancing back to the bathroom door, he could still hear the contraption whirring and knew if he rushed he could make it back before she was finished.
Grabbing a fistful of money, he jammed it into his pocket and hurried to the door.
When Jack Delaney courted a woman, he courted her.
Mairie patted her hair in place and assessed the style in the mirror. Since her black hair was straight, she didn't try and fight it by attempting something curly. Better to stay with smooth, shiny and elegant … but she did pull one side behind her ear to expose one of the tiny pearl studs she'd purchased. It was a good imitation. Now for her makeup.
Applying a razor-thin stroke of eyeliner to her upper lid, she realized she hadn't felt this kind of excitement in a very long time. Probably not since before her marriage. She remembered the desire to look beautiful, to impress, to seduce. Strange, how what she was feeling now was different, even heightened.
"Maybe because you love the man," she muttered to herself.
Jack had already seen her at her worst. He was her friend, her partner. They had made an intimate connection that usually took months to achieve. They had shared so much, as if they'd been an established couple, and now was their first date? Everything was in reverse.
Why didn't that surprise her? Was there anything about her relationship with Jack Delaney that was normal?
She picked up the slate eyeshadow and lightly defined the crease at the top of her eyelid, then brushed a soft cream color onto her lids and under her brow. The effect was exactly what she wanted, she thought as she stroked the mascara onto her lashes. Softly dramatic. She wondered if Jack would think so, since she figured only flamboyant women in his time painted their faces. Well he would just have to get used to it, she decided and then remembered how he seemed to appreciate her without makeup.
Again she recalled standing between his legs and touching his hair. It hadn't been planned, yet he'd looked so flustered by her appearance in his T-shirt, that she wanted to reassure him with a gesture of compassion.
Compassion was becoming a desire for intimacy. She had felt it in her body as it responded to the electricity coming from his. The nearness of him had been almost overwhelming and she had to fight the urge to bend down and place a kiss on the top of his head. Dear God, how she wanted to feel his arms around her again.
Sighing, Mairie decided she was becoming a wanton where Jack Delaney was concerned. She applied blush, a faint lip liner, and a mocha-colored lipstick. Standing back, she looked at her reflection and smiled. Clad in her new black demi-bra and slip, she adjusted the underwires and thought how uncomfortable wearing a bra was since she'd spent so much time without one. She looked to her dress hanging on the back of the door and decided to forgo the sheer black pantyhose she'd bought. Way too hot in the desert, and she didn't want to sweat tonight. Spraying herself lightly in strategic spots with the small bottle of perfume, she whispered, "Tonight must be perfect."
Tonight was her first date with the man she loved.
She unzipped the garment bag and pulled out her dress. It was so beautiful. The perfect black dress, bias cut georgette with fifteen tiny covered buttons down the front. Slipping her arms into it, she started buttoning when she heard someone knocking on the door.
"Jack," she yelled out. "Would you see who that is?" She fastened another button and added, "Be careful."
The knocking continued. "Jack?"
He didn't answer her. Alarmed, she opened the door and stuck her head out. "Where are you?" she asked the empty room.
She heard a mumble from the other side of the door. Stepping over to it, she looked through the peephole and saw him standing there. "What happened?" she asked through the door.
"I forgot the key."
"Okay," she answered in a loud voice. "Hold on." Mairie scrambled back into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat while quickly slipping her feet into the slinky T-strap high-heeled sandals. They added three inches to her height and she stood up while fumbling with the last few buttons.
"Mairie?"
She heard his muffled voice call out her name and answered, "Yes… I'll be right there." What was he doing in the hallway? This was not the way she wanted to make an impression. Rushed and flustered.
Taking a deep breath, she patted her hair one final time and opened the door.
Ready, or not, it was time to begin…