Gazing at herself in the mirror, in the filmy gown she’d chosen with a braided girdle and matching circlet for her head, it was hard to hold on to her regret, though. The pale blue of the low-cut long chiffon dress complemented her eyes. The skirt was made up of light layers that moved when she walked.
It was an otherworldly outfit, and she added glittery shadow and dark liner around her eyes to go with it. Several coats of mascara added to the drama. Her mood lifted by the primping and the pleasing reflection of herself, she nearly danced down the stairs to the great hall. There, she found that June was the only other person waiting for the evening to begin.
The other woman wore a black dress with a calf-length handkerchief hem topped by a quilted vest resembling armor. Her boots were something that a Doc Martens elf might have designed. “Wow,” Ashley said, in admiring tones. “A warrior.”
June’s grin was cheeky. “Is this fun, or what?”
“I know I’ll count on you to defend my honor,” Ashley said with a nod to the short sword tucked in the sheath hanging from the belt buckled around June’s waist. Then she looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“I’m hoping Legolas will show,” June said, leaning near. “But it won’t be Arch. He refused to snag the platinum wig that’s upstairs.”
“Legolas!” Ashley had to frown. “I’m an Aragorn girl.”
“Takes all kinds,” June said, smiling. Then she sobered. “Hey, is everything okay? You didn’t join us last night after dinner. Our science fiction story could have used more authors.”
“I...” She looked down. Her feet were bare except for sparkly nail polish on her toes. Then, instead of making some excuse, she heard herself speak the truth. “When the ski patrol called, I had a bad moment. You see...I’m a widow.” She peeked at June, saw the sympathetic expression overtake the other woman’s face. “My husband died in a ski accident four years ago.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” June said, and stepped forward to hug Ashley. “It’s a terrible thing. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” She pushed back from the other woman as the oddest feeling of lightness infused her being. “You’re...you’re only the second person I’ve ever told.”
June frowned. “What? It’s a secret?”
“There are no secrets when you live in a small place like this,” Ashley answered. “Everyone that matters has already known from the beginning. The information came to them almost as quickly as it came to me.”
“Well...” June’s brows drew together. “Should I be sorry that you had to tell me?”
“No. The opposite, actually.” Ashley looked up. “I don’t know if I can explain this, exactly, but...it feels good to say it. Like its weight is no longer pressing so heavily on my chest. Don’t get me wrong—I loved my husband, and I wish you had known him. He was a great guy.” She sucked in a breath.
June held out her hand.
Ashley grasped it. “Stu was a great guy,” she said again, and gladness filled her being as she shared it. A smile broke over her face. “I feel good,” she added with a note of wonderment. Really good.
“I’m glad,” June said.
“Me, too.” The sound of footsteps on the stairs had them both looking over.
Chase and Arch descended, the two big handsome men laughing. Arch had on a long tunic, leggings and boots. A crown sat on his head. “Very regal,” Ashley murmured. “Aragornish,” she said to tease the other woman.
But her smile died when she noted what their host had on for the evening. A very modern, very un–Middle-earth pair of dark gray slacks and a collared sweater. With or without a costume, he was so good-looking Ashley’s stomach tightened.
And resentment grew. How stupid she’d been to think they had some special...connection. It was his fault, she decided. His masculinity was just too alluring. His confidence like a nectar that Ashley couldn’t help but want to taste.
She glanced at June. “Why didn’t he dress up?”
“Well...he doesn’t like to, um, put on a costume.”
“What? Why?” Ashley didn’t try to hide the bitter note in her voice. “Was there one bad Halloween when the poor little rich boy didn’t get all the candy he wanted?”
“That’s not it,” the other woman said quietly.
The men were heading toward the bar and had yet to notice the women who stood in the corner of the big room. Ashley crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she didn’t find the dark-haired, gray-eyed man so appealing. What was wrong with her?
June cleared her throat. “He has an aversion to...camouflage, I’d guess you’d say. He doesn’t like deception of any kind.”
Frowning, Ashley turned her attention to the other woman. “It’s just costumes.”
“Not to Chase. I don’t know if I should tell you this...”
Please do, Ashley silently urged.
“He had a girlfriend in college,” June whispered in a rush. “A fiancée, actually.”
“He’s been married?”
“No. It didn’t get that far. Because...it was at a costume party. Figures in history or famous movie characters was the theme. There were, like, a gazillion Cleopatras.” June made a face. “I went as Margaret Thatcher. What was I thinking?”
“That it was more comfortable to attend in a stodgy suit than something slinky?”
“I still had this itchy wig, though,” June said, pointing to her head. “Anyway, Chase was looking for his Cleo as the party was getting rowdier and he wanted to leave. Glancing in a half-open bedroom door, he saw the Queen of the Nile doing the nasty with a guy dressed as Chewbacca. Try to get that out of your head.”
“He saw it was his Cleo,” Ashley guessed.
“Not right then. Fifteen minutes or so later. That’s when she came to Chase, acting all sweet and lovey-dovey.”
“So how’d he know what she’d done?”
“Clumps of fur in her wig. And when he asked, she told him it was true. Just a one-time thing, she assured him. It didn’t matter, she said.”
“It mattered to Chase.”
“Oh, yeah, big-time,” June agreed. “He’s not been eager to tie himself down since.”
Issues, Ashley thought. He had issues, just as she did. Sympathy and understanding cleared away all the dark clouds inside her. Hearing of her loss had probably reminded him of his own. No wonder he’d had a change of mood.
“Thanks for letting me know, June.” He’d been her shoulder the night before. It was her turn to make him feel better. Maybe the magic of Middle-earth would provide her with an idea of how to do just that.
* * *
INSPIRATION DIDN’T STRIKE Ashley until after everyone had retired for the night, and it was necessity that actually took her to Chase’s bedroom door. Pasting on a friendly smile, she gave a light rap on it with the knuckles of her free hand. The other was pressed to her bodice.
It took a moment, but then he stood in the open doorway.
Her breath caught. Chase’s chest was naked. Dressed only in slacks, his feet bare like hers, he looked at her, one brow rising over an eye.
“Um...” She hoped she wasn’t gawking. But, goodness! He was chiseled. Every muscle was carved to masculine perfection. Broad shoulders, defined biceps. Pectorals that were slabs of tough muscle dusted with dark hair. A toy boat could ride the ripples of his abdominal