Celia looked at her as though she were crazy, and Kelsey briefly related the conversation with Mitch and his girlfriend.

"So she expects Mitch to ditch you and spend the rest of the evening with her?"

"Apparently so."

"But, Kelsey, Mitch isn't even dating her anymore. Fred told me they broke up before Mitch left town."

Kelsey breathed a deep sigh of relief. She'd suspected as much, but it was good to hear her suspicion confirmed.

"Chained together, indeed," she muttered.

Then an idea began to take shape in her mind. It was outrageous. He'd kill her. But she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Celia, I think I may have come up with a costume idea after all."

"Really? Fill me in."

Laughing, Kelsey did exactly that. And when she finished explaining what she had in mind, Celia gasped, then laughed, too.

THE NEXT MORNING, armed with a pad of paper and a measuring tape, Kelsey went downstairs and found Mitch in the kitchen.

"How big are you?"

Mitch dropped the bowl he'd been about to put away, and gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"I'm glad that was plastic," she said, glancing toward the bowl on the floor. "And I said, how big are you? You know, sizes. I've got some costume ideas, but I really need your measurements."

"Oh," Mitch said. "Clothing sizes."

"Uh-huh...what else would I have meant?"

"I have no clue, Kelsey."

Kelsey grinned at his too-innocent tone, then started writing down his sizes as he rattled them off. She probably could have gone with her original guesses, because she had just about hit them dead-on, except for the chest size. She had overestimated that by a bit, probably because she'd gotten so worked up remembering him in her apartment Sat.u.r.day night wearing that towel. His chest had seemed to go on forever.

"So what's your idea, anyway?" he asked.

She was not about to tell him specifically what she had in mind, but didn't lie, either. "Just a good old Halloween pirate."

"What are we talking here, an Errol Flynn type of pirate? Or more of a Captain Hook with long black curls and high buckle shoes?"

"Definitely Flynn." She didn't want him waving a hook around, especially considering what she'd planned for the rest of the costume.

"By the way, don't shave Sat.u.r.day, okay? The dark and swarthy look suits you."

Mitch's firm jaw was slightly stubbled; she could tell he hadn't shaved yet. The dark shadow didn't look unkempt, but instead made him look a little rough and exciting. It brought out the hollows under his high cheekbones and accentuated the tiny cleft in his chin. He seemed like the dark, dangerous Mitch she used to know.

"What are you going to wear?" Mitch asked as he moved to dry another dish.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she said with a secretive smile. "Stand still, let me confirm the measurements you gave me...men have a habit of overestimating sizes."

"Are you always so utterly outrageous?" Mitch couldn't resist laughing at her suggestive words.

She didn't reply as she pulled the measuring tape out and stretched it across his back and shoulders.

"Hurry up, would you?" Having Kelsey leaning against him was very disconcerting. Her hands ran over him lightly, almost teasing him, and her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed into his back. He was very conscious of the contact. When she finally finished, he breathed a deep sigh of relief and stepped away.

"Now, you're not going to back out on me, are you?" she asked.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Kelsey. This whole evening is starting to sound interesting."

KELSEY SPENT THE REST of the day ordering things and sewing. Her plan was pulling together quite nicely. Jack, her boss, called late in the afternoon, anxious to find out if she'd decided how "Lady Love" would be dressed for her first public appearance. Though at first he didn't seem to understand what she described, she said, "Just picture a romance novel cover, all right?" and he finally got it. of the day ordering things and sewing. Her plan was pulling together quite nicely. Jack, her boss, called late in the afternoon, anxious to find out if she'd decided how "Lady Love" would be dressed for her first public appearance. Though at first he didn't seem to understand what she described, she said, "Just picture a romance novel cover, all right?" and he finally got it.

That evening at the station, she and Brian quickly threw together some highlights from their discussion Sat.u.r.day night. When they'd nailed down a topic and listed some songs, Brian sat back and stared at her, a knowing look in his eyes.

"There's talk in the coffee room that you've gotten some more mail from your lovesick knight, Sir He Who Cannot Write Poetry," he said. "Why didn't you share?"

She gave him a sour stare. "Because I knew you'd just make fun of the poor guy. This one was very sweet, too, and we all know how catty you are around genuine sweetness!"

"That's because it doesn't exist," he sniped. "So, does this one compare your voice to the dulcet tones of his grandpappy's harmonica?"

Kelsey pulled out the pale blue stationery. "Actually, it's another poem, in which he claims 'the only sounds bringing tears of joy he'd wipe, are my gravelly voice and a Scottish bagpipe.'"

After Brian let out a few shouts of laughter, he wiped the corners of his eyes. "Oh, man, I wonder if this guy's a comedian...he must be doing it on purpose. No way could someone write such genuinely awful poetry!"

"It's kind of sweet," Kelsey insisted, trying to keep a straight face. "He's writing me two or three times a week now, and he obviously puts a lot of effort into these letters."

"Doesn't that creep you out a little bit? I mean, that someone is crawling out of the woodwork, writing you all these love letters, when he's never even laid eyes on you?"

Kelsey shrugged, folded the letter and slipped it back into its matching blue envelope. "I guess it goes with the territory. There are a lot of lonely people out there who don't have anything better to do than write unrequited love letters."

Brian leaned toward her and took her hand, suddenly serious. "Kelsey, listen, don't take this too lightly, okay? It might seem like nothing to worry about now, but we have all heard stories of overzealous fans going too far."

Kelsey saw genuine concern in Brian's face and squeezed his fingers rea.s.suringly. "There's nothing to worry about. The guy's harmless. Besides, the security guards are being great, I feel totally safe while I'm here."

He smirked. "And, of course, while you're at home, you have a modern-day replica of a Greek G.o.d running around in nothing but a towel to protect you. Hey, maybe he's your knight."

"Don't I wish," Kelsey said with a chuckle. "Unfortunately, Mitch was out of the country and had never heard of Lady Love when I started getting the letters."

"Too bad," Brian said as they left the break room. "By the way, you never did fill me in on what happened after I left Sat.u.r.day night."

"I figured you'd get around to that sooner or later, but it'll have to be later. We've got two minutes and I have to run to the ladies' room," Kelsey said as she hurried away.

"Chicken," Brian called out, his laughter following her down the hall.

MITCH DIDN'T GET MUCH SLEEP for the rest of the week. He spent his days writing, researching or speaking with contributing editors. Though really only in the outline stage, he was pleased with the book's progress. for the rest of the week. He spent his days writing, researching or speaking with contributing editors. Though really only in the outline stage, he was pleased with the book's progress.

His long nights were spent listening to the radio. He tried to resist. Every night he promised himself he'd listen to her opening, hear what she was planning to talk about, then shut off the radio. But he never did. He always ended up sticking with Lady Love until her sign-off. The leather living room sofa wasn't very comfortable, so Mitch bought a boom box and put it in his bedroom. Every night he went to bed with Kelsey. Well, with her voice anyway.

As he listened, Mitch's appreciation for Kelsey's talent grew. Her show was always entertaining, sometimes hilarious, usually very s.e.xy. But Paul had been right. It was never raunchy or in poor taste.

Her subjects changed nightly. On Tuesday, her topic was first love. Wednesday, she lightened things up a bit as dozens of callers detailed their most embarra.s.sing romantic moments. On Thursday, she steamed up his room when she talked about eroticism. And last night, Friday, she opened the phones for a sort of free-for-all. She impersonated that little old lady s.e.x doctor, then a French madam. Callers asked romantic trivia questions. Her audience threw challenge after challenge at her, and she answered with wit and style. Mitch was very impressed.

"HAS M MITCH SEEN ANY of this yet?" Celia asked. of this yet?" Celia asked.

Kelsey shook her head and continued sewing. The two of them were finishing off the last bits of the costume. Material, clothing and accessories were strewn over most of Kelsey's apartment. Her home looked like a theater dressing room.

"No. I haven't seen much of him this week."

"That's good. I somehow suspect he might rethink this whole Halloween costume if he saw it too far in advance."

"He already knows what he's wearing...pretty much," Kelsey said with a chuckle.

"How's the hair coming?" Celia asked. "Was it uncomfortable to sleep in last night?"

"A little." Kelsey shook her head lightly. The waxed paper that she'd tightly wound around locks of hair all over her head crinkled with every movement. "But it will be worth it. Wait and see."

After they finished everything, including lowering the neckline of Kelsey's blouse once more, Celia said, "Why don't you let me run Mitch's costume down to him so he doesn't see you before tonight. It might be bad luck. Oh, that's just for weddings, right?"

Kelsey grinned and walked Celia to the door, thanking her profusely for all her help. After the other woman left, Kelsey glanced at the clock and saw it was only two. She took a bath, being careful to avoid getting her wrapped hair wet. She soaked for a long time, then got out and rubbed her body with a fragrant, flowery lotion. Pampering herself yet more, she spent another half hour doing her nails, painting them a ruby red. Finally she took a few minutes and began pulling the wax paper out of her hair.

When she was finished, Kelsey shook her head, laughing in delight at the effect. Crinkly, flowing curls cascaded down her back almost to her bra line, bouncing with every move. After applying her makeup with a heavy hand, she surveyed herself in the mirror. The riot of curls framed her dramatically made-up face. She struck a pose, pursing her lips and lifting an eyebrow. She looked exotic, enticing even. Good. That was just what she was shooting for.

"SHE WANTS TO TORTURE ME," Mitch said aloud as he stared down at the indecently tight pants he'd just put on. They were a shiny black material and fit like a second skin. Mitch wondered if she'd written his measurements down wrong. Probably not. Knowing Kelsey, she'd fully intended for them to be as outrageous as possible. She'd had a mischievous sparkle in her eye lately, and he imagined dressing him in a s.e.xy pirate costume was her way of getting back at Amanda for her high-handed treatment. He couldn't look less like Fred Astaire unless he dyed his hair red and put on a clown suit.

Mitch reached for the rest of the costume Celia had delivered earlier in the day, marveling at how complete it was in every detail. Yanking on the accompanying black leather boots, he wasn't surprised to see they came all the way to his knees, covering the bottom of the obscenely tight pants. The shirt was a little better, he thought as he pulled the flowing material over his head. It was white cotton with long, billowing sleeves that gathered at the wrist and spilled lace over his hands. The front had no b.u.t.tons, instead lacing up with string from his abdomen to his throat, and he left it loose. Celia had told him the bright red silk scarf was to wear around his hips. Mitch quickly wrapped and tied it. Finally he worked up the nerve to look at himself in the mirror, and his jaw dropped. Then he slowly grinned. He looked like some male stripper dressed up for a woman's pirate fantasy.

"Oh, what the h.e.l.l," he said, laughing out loud. It was one night. It was Halloween. It was for Kelsey. Tonight, Mitch would be a pirate.

AT A FEW MINUTES BEFORE SEVEN, Kelsey heard a knock on her apartment door. Glancing in the mirror one more time, she quickly checked her makeup and called out, "Just a minute, Mitch."

The long rain cape she'd borrowed from Celia lay on a chair by the door, and Kelsey quickly pulled it on, completely covering herself from head to mid-calf. She tucked a few errant curls against her neck, then b.u.t.toned the cape.

"Right on time," she said as she yanked the door open, determined to get out into the murky hall before he had a chance to see much of her. But her intentions fled as she saw him leaning indolently against the doorframe.

He looked magnificent.

Mitch's thick, dark brown hair was tied back into a short ponytail with a strip of leather. She hadn't made that suggestion, but it worked perfectly, giving him even more of a rakish piratical appearance. He was unshaved, his face dark and lean, giving him a dangerous look. The white shirt gaped open, exposing the crisp dark hair on his hard chest, and her eyes followed the vee down almost to his waist. The tight red sash emphasized his lean build, and the black pants...well, if she started thinking too much about what Mitch looked like in those black pants, they'd never get to the ball.

"What do you think?"

"You look gorgeous...tall, dark and dangerous," she admitted weakly.

He flashed her a boyish grin, and said, "I have to admit I do feel very Errol Flynn-ish. You and Celia did a great job. Where on earth did you find this stuff?"

"Just lucky, I guess. Some of it we put together ourselves, and some I got in the mall. I found the boots in a thrift shop."

"Wait a minute," he said, at last noticing the cape that covered her from the top of her head to her knees. "I want to see your costume."

"No time," she retorted. "We've got to go. And it's raining a little. I don't want to mess up my hair."

Mitch frowned at her, but Kelsey ignored him and grabbed the bag she'd left sitting by the front door.

"What's this?"

"Just some props. Finishing touches to my masterpiece."

Kelsey rushed downstairs, glad to hear the rain still hitting the windows. It had given her the perfect excuse to wear the concealing cape. Mitch put his own coat on and opened the door, then glanced down and noticed her shoes.

"What do you have on your feet?"

Kelsey wore flat brown leather sandals. Instead of a buckle, they fastened with two long strips of leather, which she'd wound around her ankles and up her calves.

"Sandals, why?" she asked, offering no explanation.

Mitch sighed, glanced at her feet, then at the soggy yard. Not bothering to ask, he bent and picked her up in his arms. She gasped. He shouldered the front door open, and dashed with her across the front yard to his car. She didn't utter so much as a word as he quickly opened the car door and sat her in the pa.s.senger seat.

As they drove toward the harbor, Kelsey began having second thoughts. What if Mitch outright refused to go along with it? It wouldn't really matter, she supposed. They would both still be in costume, though hers might look a little strange. His pirate outfit would be fine. In fact, she acknowledged, this whole thing might blow up right in her face. Because if he balked at using her "props," he would very likely be a target for every single woman in the place, Amanda included. She wished for a moment that she hadn't done such a good job on his costume.

"Looks like a big crowd," he said when they pulled up to the hotel entrance and he stopped in front of the valet parking stand. "Do you see anyone from work?"

Kelsey glanced through the raindrops on the car windshield and saw several costumed party goers. A man dressed in a green G.o.dzilla costume stood out, but everyone else was indistinguishable.

The hotel was an elegant structure that had stood in the downtown area for probably forty years or more. Kelsey had read that the building had recently been renovated, and the interior gleamed. Casting an appreciative eye around the plush lobby, she noted a few costumed guests mingling in one corner, while a family with two impatient children checked in at the front desk. Leather sofas were arranged in intimate groupings, and a couple sat whispering to each other in one of them. An impeccably uniformed porter bustled toward the elevator, while sparkling lights reflecting off the crystal chandelier danced across his mauve uniform.