you really are?”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault I’ve been invisible all my life?”
“No. People are blind to what’s right in front of them more often than not. But something happened a little while ago while you were talking to me. It was like you came to life. You let me see who you really are. That’s when I got interested.”
I’m not a foolish woman.
I’m not.
I’m smart and safe and cautious, and I never, ever do anything without thinking it through.
But I believe what Richard just said. I didn’t believe him before, but I do now. It doesn’t feel like he’s playing a game anymore or putting on an act.
It feels like he sees me.
Like he’s interested in me.
All my previous jitters of excitement come back to life with more force than I’ve ever experienced them before.
“So tell me the truth,” Richard says, swirling the remaining liquor in his glass. “You are looking for a one-night stand tonight.”
“Maybe.” It’s mostly true. It’s not the whole truth, but my lack of experience isn’t something I’m going to share with a stranger.
Any stranger.
I add, “I’ve never had a one-night stand before.”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “I was wondering what mission you were set on tonight. Since I got in the way of the guys you had picked out, it’s only fair that I offer a replacement.”
I narrow my eyes and hold my breath as I wait.
He finishes his scotch and sets the empty glass on the bar on top of a fifty-dollar bill.
A fifty. That’s the tip he’s leaving the bartender.
Then he leans over and murmurs into my ear. “I’m in room twenty-twenty. If you want a one-night stand, I won’t disappoint you.”
I stare at him in frozen astonishment—my whole body consumed with a delicious buzzing—as he slides a key card under my hand, which is resting on the polished surface of the bar.
Before I can respond—or even get my mouth to form a single word—he’s disappearing out the door.
I sit for several minutes, my hand on top of the key card.
I wanted to have sex tonight, and now I have the opportunity after all.
Sex with a man who could have stepped right out of my daydreams.
I don’t have to know him or trust him or even believe he’s telling me the truth.
It’s just sex.
And I want to have it.
I want to have sex with Richard Steele.
He’s offering, and there’s no good reason I should refuse.
I’ve spent too much of my life not taking what I really want—too afraid of the consequences to take a risk—and I don’t want to live that way anymore.
So I stand up, closing my fingers around the key card.
I’m going to do it.
My third life starts tonight.
Two
I STOP BY THE RESTROOM before I head upstairs. For the most part, I’m prepared. I’d showered and shaved and put on a pretty blue bra and panty set under my clothes before I went down to the bar so I’d be ready for whatever might happen tonight.
But I figure it’ll be easier if I don’t need to pee while I’m trying to have sex for the first time.
As I wash my hands afterward, I stare at myself in the mirror. Dark gray eyes. Regular features. Pink cheeks. Minimal makeup. Thick blond hair hanging down past my shoulders, straight and smooth because I spent twenty minutes blowing it out this morning.
It’s my normal face. My blue top is clingier than what I usually wear, showing off the curves of my figure. But otherwise I don’t look much different than I ever do.
It’s a pleasant reflection in the mirror. Familiar. But nothing special. Maybe a bit vanilla.
I have no idea why Richard decided he wants to spend the night with me.
Maybe he told me the truth. Maybe he’s really just bored and any sex is better than no sex.
It doesn’t matter.
I was expecting a mediocre experience at best for my first time. Assumed that was the most I could hope for. But I can’t imagine Richard would ever let himself be mediocre.
Who he really is and what he’s hiding beneath his slick surface isn’t important for one night of sex. If I don’t do this now, I know—I know—I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I’ll always wonder what I might have missed.
So I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before I start to leave. My ankle turns in my high heel, and I stumble, catching myself against the bathroom door.
The near fall startles and jars