The Man Behind the Mask. Barbara Wallace

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      The hotel pier was quiet at the moment, although a sign posted on a lamppost said the first commuter boat would arrive at 7:30 a.m. There were sailboats floating in slips, their lowered sails tucked in canvas covers, the waves slapping against their fiberglass hulls. The soft sound calling to him, he led her to the end of the main pier where he could stare at the waves lapping the pilings.

      Behind him, he could feel Delilah hovering a short distance from his shoulder. Funny, he usually hated people standing close, but Delilah’s proximity didn’t bother him. In fact, he found knowing she was in his space reassuring, comforting even.

      “The water’s so black,” he heard her say. “Looks bottomless.”

      So it did. Black and never-ending. He let the gentle noise of the waves wash over him. “There’s something very soothing about that idea.”

      “What? You mean being bottomless?”

      “Sure. Knowing you could float underwater forever surrounded by silence.”

      “You’re not planning to jump in, are you?”

      He smiled, picturing her concerned expression. “Afraid you’ll have to jump in and swim after me?”

      “A little.”

      Her bluntness made him chuckle. Refreshing after so many hours putting up a false front. “Don’t worry, I prefer my water a little more chlorinated. I simply meant in general. There’s a peacefulness to being surrounded by water.”

      Good God, listen to him, waxing poetic about swimming. The whiskey must have relaxed him more than he thought. Staring deeper into the depths, he felt the pier sway with the waves, proving his point. He sat down, letting his legs dangle over the edge.

      Delilah continued to hover; from the corner of his eye, he could see her leaning against a piling. He patted the concrete next to him. “Come sit down with me.”

      Leaning back on his elbows, he looked out over the water, listening to the waves’ steady cadence as they splashed the objects around them. Once upon a time, he’d latched on to that rhythm to erase the past. Tonight he latched on again, letting it wash the memories back into place.

      Over at her seat, Delilah had leaned back on her hands, as well. Not so far back as him, but enough that he could see the length of her thighs and the flash of her pants as she kicked her legs up and down. Her ponytail looked like a long brown tail. As she turned her face skyward, it hung down the center of her back. Made him want to give the thing a tug.

      “Do you know, I’ve been in New York for four years now, and I still haven’t gotten tired of seeing the water?” she said to him. “I don’t think people on the coasts realize how lucky they are.”

      “You make it sound like Kansas is a desert.”

      “No, but watching the Missouri doesn’t have the same romantic quality.” She turned with a puzzled look. “How did you know I was from Kansas?”

      “Your personnel file. I read it when I hired you.”

      “Oh, I should have realized.” She ducked the hair behind her ear, a sure sign she was blushing. Simon was sorry the pier didn’t have better lighting so he could see what shade of pink her skin turned.

      “Is this the point where I make a joke about leaving home for the Emerald City?”

      “Please don’t. I heard enough jokes when I first moved here. And before you ask, no, I don’t own a little dog or have an Auntie Em.”

      “Does that also mean I don’t have to worry about you clicking your heels three times during a meeting?”

      “To go home?” She shook her head, tail swishing across her back. “Definitely not.”

      “Pretty emphatic-sounding there, Dorothy. Got a problem with Kansas?”

      She definitely blushed this time. Even the dim lighting couldn’t hide the color. “I’m just really glad to have made it to Manhattan.”

      “There was doubt?”

      “Let’s say there was a time when I wasn’t sure and leave it at that.”

      “Okay.”

      Clearly there was more to the story. Her lowered gaze and pink cheeks said as much, but who was he to judge? Everyone had secrets. Some worse than others.

      Smiling, he reached over to pat her hand, silent reassurance that he didn’t plan to pry any further. To his surprise, it was he who felt comforted. The warmth of her skin beneath his palm eased his muscles in a way the liquor didn’t.

      He wondered if Delilah noticed, for she suddenly raised her eyes to meet his. The dim gleam of the dock light reflected in their depths, turning them a richer shade of blue. The color water should be, he thought to himself.

      “How come I never noticed how blue your eyes were before?” he asked her.

      “I...”

      Damn. His comment made her blush again, sending her lashes sweeping downward and blocking his view. He wanted the blue back. There was a serenity to the shade he didn’t want to let go of.

      “The proper answer is thank you,” he said. Shifting his weight, he used his free hand to catch her chin and gently force her gaze upward again. There, that was more like it. “When someone pays you a compliment, you’re supposed to say thank you.”

      “Thank you,” she whispered.

      “You’re welcome.” The sea breeze, light as it was, blew hair into her face, again marring his view. Repeating what he’d seen her do so many times before, he tucked the errant strands behind her ear, his fingers lingering along the outer edge. Those eyes widened, and arousal, that blessed precursor to forgetting, began to curl through him. It surged when he saw her catch her lip between her teeth, as though biting back a sigh....

      “Hey! You can’t sit there.”

      Simon jerked back. The voice belonged to a security guard who was strutting toward them. A perfectly timed bucket of water.

      “Sorry,” the guard said as he drew closer, “but you’re going to have to move.”

      “Right. Of course.” He scrambled to his feet, ignoring how the rapid motion caused the pier to shift and throw him off balance. Delilah, who was on her feet, as well, reached out to steady him, but he grabbed hold of a piling instead. “It’s time we call it an evening anyway, don’t you think?”

      From the look on her face, his assistant didn’t know what to think. Can’t say I blame you, he thought as he motioned for her to go ahead of him. Frankly, he wasn’t sure himself.

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