Mirror Image

selfish reasons. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything belonging to Carole tonight. She had wanted to be new for Tate, different, unlike Carole had ever been.
    Besides, all Carole’s formal dresses had been low-cut and flamboyant, not to Avery’s liking. She had needed something seasonably lightweight, but with long sleeves. She was very conscientious about revealing too much skin, which might give her false identity away. This dress had offered it all.
    “Money well spent,” Tate muttered reluctantly.
    “Did you want something in particular? Or did you come to see if I was running late?”
    “I’m the one who’s late, I’m afraid. I can’t find my studs. Have you seen them?”
    It hadn’t escaped her notice that he was only partially dressed. There was a speck of fresh blood on his chin, attesting to a quick, close shave. He was still barefoot, his hair was still damp and uncombed after a haphazard towel drying, and his starched, pleated shirt was unbuttoned. The long shirttail hung over his dark tuxedo trousers.
    The sight of his hairy, bare chest made her mouth water. His belly was as tight and flat as a drum. Since he hadn’t yet fastened the fly to his trousers, she had an unrestricted view all the way down, past his navel, to the white elastic waistband of his briefs.
    Reflexively, she moistened her lips. Her heart was beating so hard she could actually feel the fabric of her dress moving against her skin. “Studs?” she asked faintly.
    “I thought I might have left them in here.”
    “Feel free to look.” She gestured toward the dressing area, where she had discovered a cache of masculine toiletries and grooming utensils during one of her explorations.
    He rifled through two drawers before finding the black jewelry box with the flip-top lid. A set of onyx studs and a pair of matching cuff links were inside. “Do you need help?”
    “No.”
    “Yes.” She moved to block his exit from the room.
    “I can do it.”
    “And wrinkle your shirt while wrestling with them. Let me.” Waving away his protests and his hands, she inserted the first stud. Her knuckles brushed against the dense hair on his chest. It was soft, damp. She wanted to bury her face in it.
    “What’s all that?” She glanced up at him, then followed his indicating chin. “Oh. Mandy’s artwork.” There were several scribbled pictures attached to her mirror with strips of Scotch tape. “Didn’t she give you some?”
    “Sure. I just didn’t expect yours to be so prominently displayed. You used to say you couldn’t stand the clutter. Finished?” He bent his head down to check her slow progress. They almost bumped heads.
    “One more. Stand still. Is that your stomach growling? Help yourself to a snack.”
    He paused for a moment, then reached toward the snack plate for an apple slice and a chunk of cheese. His teeth crunched into the apple. The sound of his munching was wildly erotic.
    “Cuff links?”
    He passed them to her and extended his left arm. She speared the cuff link through the holes, then flipped it open so it would hold. She patted it into place. “Next?” He gave her his right arm. After it was done, she declined to put distance between them. Instead, she angled her head back and looked up at him from close range.
    “What about your bow tie?”
    He swallowed the food. “In my room.”
    “Can you handle it?”
    “I’ll manage. Thanks.”
    “Any time.”
    Then, when he could leave, he didn’t. He stayed for several moments longer, staring down at her, with the lingering mist of her long bath and the smell of her perfume swirling around them.
    Finally, he stepped back and moved toward the door. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”
    * * *
    Tate felt like he had just made a narrow escape when he reentered the room he slept in. His shower must have been too hot. Why else couldn’t he cool down? He blamed his clumsiness on necessary haste and the important evening facing him.
    He bungled tying his tie several times before getting it right; he couldn’t find matching socks; it took him ten minutes to finish dressing. However, when his wife emerged from her bedroom after his soft tap on her door, she didn’t remark on the delay.
    Together they went into the living room, where Zee was reading Mandy a story. Nelson was watching his favorite TV detective chase down the bad guys and bring them to justice.
    He glanced up when they walked in and gave a long wolf whistle. “You two look like the bride and