Open Your Eyes

Open Your Eyes

A Novel

Jani Kay

OPEN YOUR EYES

Jani Kay

ISBN:
978-0-9923090-0-8

Copyright 2013
JANI KAY

All Rights Reserved
.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Artist: Ali Majoka

Edited by: Tracy Seybold

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes, copied, or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except for brief quotations embodied for reviews.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This
eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

To
ALL my loved ones who deeply touch my heart and my soul.

I love you.

Thank you for your support and believing in me.

It means the world to me.

Thank YOU!

Thank you for purchasing and reading my book. Without You, the reader, writers wouldn’t have an audience for their stories.

Open Your Eyes

Is it possible to find your soul mate, the one person who can look into your eyes and see deep into your soul, everything you are and everything you desire…

Just when Natalie thought her chance of ever finding lasting love was over, she meets a charmingly seductive stranger in an art gallery. She wants him as much as he wants her. Their steamy holiday romance sweeps her off her feet, showing her that the kind of love she craves is very possible. She starts falling for the dark handsome bachelor, but Fate has other plans which place Natalie at a crossroad. Her jealous ex-husband wants her back…

She must make a choice that will tear her apart. Will Natalie make the right decision? Will she get her chance at love and happiness? Or does that only happen in fairy tales?

Natalie must choose. Between what she believes is the right thing to do, her strongly held values, her dreams for her family – or will she choose to find her ultimate heart’s desire with the one man that really sees her...

A Stand-alone Novel.

Prologue

A dream…

Naked. Alone.
Frozen
.

I cross my arms over my torso in an attempt to hide my nakedness from the world. This is what Eve must have felt like in the Garden of Eden. Except that she wasn’t standing
under fresh snowflakes in the middle of Seventh Avenue in broad daylight.

Yellow taxis swarm the streets, buzzing up and down on an adrenaline high, their horns honking impatiently, endlessly rushing from one traffic light to the other at a frenetic pace. Steam rises from the belly of the city subway and escapes through the vents. Huge billboards flash overhead, peddling their wares to thousands of brand
-conscious customers.

People mill around me, pushing and shoving one another; scrambling like ants.

A New York Minute. Faster than anywhere on the planet. But also the slowest…

There are people everywhere – it
’s the day before Christmas and panic shopping has consumed the nation. Yet I have never felt more desolate than in this moment.

Stripped naked and bare. Vulnerable. Exposed to the eyes of the world. But – nobody sees
me
. They look right through me.

Invisible.

Snowflakes fall faster and faster, covering my pale skin and dark hair and heavy eyelashes, a white powdery dust that melts as it hits my warm skin. But after a few minutes it sits on my flesh like a fine blanket and chills me to the bone.

H
is eyes are the first thing I see – they are kind, tender even. I melt into the green pools of light beaming from those eyes as he places his heavy coat over my shoulders. His body heat is still present, caught in the fibers of the fabric. I pull the coat tightly against my naked skin. My frozen lips attempt a smile as the warmth,
his
warmth
, radiates through my being.

His
scent drifts to my nostrils – peppermint…sage…sandalwood…distinctly herbal – mingled with something completely unidentifiable – the essence of him, the tall kind stranger. A generous smile spreads over his full and sensuous lips as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks off into the blizzard, coatless.

S
omeone saw me
. Not only my naked body, but for a few lingering seconds, deeply into my soul. Connected by the heart to a complete stranger.

A wave of heat
spreads throughout my body, slowly thawing the cold from my skin inwards to my bones – and to my frozen heart.

How will I return his coat?

Will I ever see the stranger again?

With a jolt, my eyes fl
ew open. I sat up in bed.

What was that?
A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered the feeling in the pit of my stomach when the stranger looked into my eyes. Sweat trickled down between my breasts.

I would give anything to melt into those eyes again.

If only it wasn’t just a dream… a very surreal dream.

Chapter
One

Natalie

Christmas. My favorite time of year.

My heart
hammered against my chest as I drank in the sights around me. I drew in a sharp breath, eager for more.

All new.

Exhilarating.

“Is this your first time to
New York?” the taxi driver drawled as we crossed the huge suspension bridge over the East River, the triumphal arch welcoming us into the heart of the city.

“Yes,”
Olivia and I answered in unison.

T
he concrete jungle sprawled in front of us, the sun just rising behind the tall buildings.

“Manhattan is a treat at this time of year. Everyone is in a festive mood. Even though it's freezing cold, the pretty lights and
Yuletide spirit more than make up for it,” he said in his thick Brooklyn accent.

“We are hoping for snow,”
Olivia said.

“You will love New York
. The most unexpected things happen in this city. It's magical – it gives you exactly what you need – even if
you
don’t know what that is.” Knowingly, he winked at us in the review mirror.

I smile
d back at him.
Magical?

“But be careful what you wish for
.” He grinned. “Because when you get it, it may not be what you expected.”

Wise words indeed.

“Sometimes in life we have to make hard choices.” He grimaced. “It's not easy to make the right ones.”

I nodded
silently.

M
ixed feelings swept through me; swapping my safe and boring world for an unpredictable one left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

He
pulled up to the Sheraton hotel on Seventh Avenue and helped us with our luggage. I paid his fair and remembered to include a generous tip. The cold air nipped at the exposed parts of my skin. In spite of my heavy coat, I shivered, so we hastily made our way up the stairs.

The taxi
driver’s words kept echoing in my head. I slowly exhaled a foggy breath.

Magica
l
.
Just what I needed.

Maybe I’d get a
nother chance at love and happiness? Stranger things have happened.

Hard choices
– not so much.

A
lready I’d been forced to make too many in the course of my life.
Hope I don’t have any more of those ahead of me
.

Shaking
my head, I pushed through the revolving doors into the warmth of the foyer, pushing the vague insecurities in my gut away too. I was looking forward to our ‘girls only’ holiday; trading sleepy Sydney suburbia for the city that never sleeps. I just wanted to relax, to get away from the ordinary stresses of life.

A peaceful Christmas.
No pressure. No complications.

That was all I wanted.

* * *

By day three,
donning a jacket, scarf and gloves had become second nature.

Olivia
handed me her parcels for the umpteenth time while she disappeared into a fitting room. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel and take a nice nap, Mom? Then you’ll be refreshed when we go find dinner tonight?” She turned for me to do up her zipper.

It
sounded like heaven. “I guess it's the jetlag. I can't keep up with you,” I admitted, bone tired. I shot her a grateful glance. “I’ll take your parcels with me so that it frees you up.”

Back on the sidewalk
, the cold air whipped around me as I fought my way through the crowd. Who knew shopping could be so exhausting? Rain pelted down heavily, the wind howling as I crossed an overcrowded intersection on Fifth Avenue, but there was nowhere to escape to except back into another store.
No chance in hell I’m doing that
.

A
nnoyed, I cut across 53
rd
Street where the crowds were thinner. Now the cold was cutting to the bone. My coat wasn’t waterproof, and I hadn’t brought an umbrella.

A
large sign that read ‘
MoMA
’
caught my eye
,
I recognized the Museum of Modern Art building and decided to duck inside to escape the fierce elements. At least it would be quiet inside, and warmer.

Somewhat reluctantly, I paid the $25 entrance fee and found my way up the stairs into a cavernous room, the stark white walls hung with huge photographs, mainly of people. I looked around at a few pictures. They were really good. Very artsy, yet
the succinctly captured expressions on each of the subject’s faces told a story.

I slipped out of my coat and to my delight found an open bench where I could just sit and gather myself for a few moments.

Peace. Quiet.
Bliss
.

Chapter Two

“Penny for your thoughts.” The deep baritone voice cut through my daydreaming, bringing me back to the present abruptly.
Is he talking to me?
I glanced over toward the voice from under my lashes, not quite sure if the smooth, soothing voice was addressing me – I didn’t want to look like a fool if he wasn’t.

When my eyes
collided with amused green ones, crinkled kindly at the corners, all the breath from my lungs squeezed out. I dropped my gaze to his mouth instead, but his full lips were equally as beautiful and sensuous, graced by a cupids bow and curled up at the sides into a naughty smile.

Hardly able to keep my jaw from dropping, I flinched when he spoke again.

“You look so deep in thought.” He took a step closer to where I sat.

Crap
, maybe I shouldn’t be sitting here for so long. Guess I better move along.

But before I could gather my things, the imposing stranger
cocked his head toward the enormous artwork hanging directly in front of me. “Care to share your thoughts on the picture?”

I glanced in the direction he indicated and
drew in a sharp breath as unwelcome warmth crept up my neck and over my cheeks. It was only then I truly noticed the artwork: a life-sized
naked
couple, their limbs entangled, in the throes of lovemaking. I blinked a few times as I took it all in.

“Very
sensual, isn’t it?” He echoed my thoughts, an amused glint in his eyes as he witnessed my embarrassment.

“I…er…” I stuttered, really at a loss for words, even though I had apparently been staring at this very erotic portrait for the last
ten or so minutes.

Since I
’d entered the room, I had been vaguely aware of the tall dark stranger in the background – any woman would have to be blind not to notice him – but once I sat down, my eyes had glazed over and I had been very deep in thought, barely paying attention to the pictures or people around me.

The stranger
commanded awareness. Proud broad shoulders, and short, silky dark brown hair with slight greying at the temples that was so sexy in a man but just made a woman look plain old. But it was his strong square jaw, and especially his sparkling green eyes that looked like they were filled with golden light, that caught my attention.

This was exactly why I was so startled.
Not because I had been caught staring at a blush-worthy erotic picture. No, it was because men this good looking usually didn’t take much notice of me, let alone talk directly to me for no apparent reason.

Taking a quick glance around the vast space, I noticed a statuesque
blond woman across the room staring at us with a perplexed expression. She glared at me for a split second before resting her gaze on the handsome stranger who had now come to stand just behind the bench I sat on. Her smile turned icy when he unceremoniously plonked himself down beside me.

“Hope you don’t mind if I sit here?”

I shrugged, still dumbfounded as I shifted up to give him more space.
Whatever his reason for starting this conversation, I wasn’t keen to reciprocate. I folded my arms across my chest.

“What is it about the picture
you like most?” he asked, nodding his head toward the imposing picture, a cheeky smile across his lips.

“Oh, I…haven’t really studied it in much detail… I’m not sure…
What do
you
like most?” If there was one thing I was good at, it was deflecting questions I didn’t want to – or know how to – answer.

He took the bait. His
gaze skimmed over the picture as if it was already very familiar. “The way they hold each other. Even in the throes of passion, there is a special connection between them, a connection far deeper than just sex.”

Seriously?
Was he purposely trying to knock my breath out? Those weren’t exactly the words I expected to hear. My head jerked up as I scanned his face for signs of mockery. Most men I knew were definitely not into openly discussing touchy-feely topics like relationships and sex.

A
devilish smile crept over his face, his eyes dancing with mischief as he chuckled.

What was it about the alarmingly
attractive stranger, so comfortable in his own skin, that had me on edge? Besides his handsome looks, he wore expensive clothes that fit his taut body with a grace and ease that came so naturally to a person of means. I’d known enough people on both sides of the coin to recognize wealth when I saw it.

My mind scrambl
ed around, trying to make sense of it all. Was he perhaps an art critic soliciting the public’s opinion on the artworks? Beautifully manicured hands – like those of an artist or a surgeon, rested on his thighs. Maybe he was the artist, getting feedback from potential clients? Either explanation would be feasible.

I bit into my bottom lip. I wasn’t prudish. Shy, yes. Introverted
, definitely. Pretty liberated in my thinking, I considered myself a modern woman; I openly discussed sex with my three kids and girlfriends, just not very often with strangers. Especially not good-looking, strange men who were clearly out of my league.

In comparison to the stately
blond in the killer heels, who now stared at me with open hostility, I was quite ordinary looking. If I were to be kind to myself, I’d say I had a face people often thought they knew or recognized – meaning it was pretty much a ‘girl-next-door’ kind of face. My skin wasn’t as smooth as a decade ago and my body battled gravity. And I had to admit to preferring comfortable and practical shoes over pretty but precarious ones.

I sighed. Why couldn’t I have the wisdom, knowledge and experience I had now, but in the body of someone twenty years younger?

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“What accent is that? It's not from around here,”
he mused.

“Australian. I’m from Sydney. The famous Opera house?”

“Oh, yes, that’s it. I've been to Sydney. It's a beautiful city. Lots of water. And friendly people.” The boyish grin that split his face displaying two rows of perfect white teeth curled my toes with pleasure. How did these Americans always have such perfect teeth?

“The most beautiful city in the world. But then, I a
m biased,” I replied with a stupid grin. Many people confused Australia with Austria, so it was refreshing to meet someone who had actually been to my part of the world.

“So what brings you to New York
City this time of year?” He put on a special exaggerated New York accent that made me chuckle under my breath. Damn, I was trying so hard to resist his charm.

“Snow. And… N
o… mostly the snow.”

“Ah, so there is something else? Besides the snow.
Which I fully understand, because I saw on today’s news that Australia is experiencing a heat wave through the festive season. Along with many bush fires.” His expression was more serious now.

“Yes, the fires are terrible
.” I nodded.

He raised an eyebrow.
“So… besides the snow. It's a long way to travel just to freeze your butt off.”

“And shopping, of course
.” With a laugh I pointed to the shopping bags under the bench. He glanced at the Prada, Gucci and Tiffany bags in my possession.

“Good taste,
I see. And what else?” he probed.

“What makes you think there’
s anything else? Isn’t the snow and shopping enough to make any tourist’s wildest dreams come true?” I tried to joke my way out from under his penetrating gaze.

“You’re not just any tourist. I saw the look
on your face when you were sitting here, alone with your thoughts. There is definitely more than snow and shopping, but it's OK, I won’t force you into telling me your darkest secrets.
Yet
.” He gave me a half smile, his index finger resting on his chin. “Right now, I’ll be happy if you just tell me your name.”

“
It's Natalie.”

“Natalie.” He rolled my name on his tongue as if he could taste it. “Beautiful name. I'm Nick, by the way.”

My curiosity had the better of me. “Really, there isn’t much to tell, Nick. I'm just a tourist who is trying to get some rest and relaxation before the next year starts. Simple really. And boring. But enough about me. Why are you in New York at this time of year? Do you live here?”

“Cleverly diverted. Don’t think I don’t know what you are trying to do
, Natalie.” He stared at me pensively. “I don’t doubt for a second that your life is anything but boring. You look way too… interesting… to have a boring life. But I’ll play along for now. No, although I have an apartment close by, I don’t live here all the time. I'm here for the exhibition.”

“Really. Not for the snow or shopping,” I tease
d.

“Funny.” He pulled a face at me
, which warmed my heart. I hadn’t flirted this much with a handsome stranger since… oh yes,
never
.

“Actually I am the photographer of all these pictures – or artworks as the gallery calls them. It's my most honest portrayal of the h
uman condition to date,” he said wryly.

My mouth went
dry, and I stifled a cough. “Really? You took
all
these pictures? Including that one?” I nodded in disbelief at the picture in front of us.

It made sense now. Why he knew so much about the picture and the
deep emotions reflected in it.

“You were there? Photographing them?” My voice
sounded small and thin. How could he have been in the room
watching
them in such an intimate moment and captured it through his camera lens?

He threw back his head and laughed – a deep belly laugh that spread a warm tingle through my body. I hadn’t heard anyone laugh with so much abandon in a long time.

“You are so adorable. Why would you object to me being in the room with them? It's my job, Natalie. He – the man in the picture – asked me to take the photograph. It was a gift for his wife.”

I felt all the blood drain from my face. He witnessed two people making love first hand
. In spite of the artful pose, it was clear to see that the man completely filled the woman, their fingers intertwined above her head, her full breasts crushed under his weight; it was all so intimate and so very beautiful. From the look on their faces, the couple were in the throes of mutual orgasms when that moment was snapped. Now that was an experience I wasn’t sure I’d ever want – spying on them, I mean, not the mind-blowing orgasm.

He thinks I’m
adorable
. Slowly, warmth crept up my neck and cheeks as I imagined this beautiful stranger pleasuring me and giving me such an orgasm. Oh God! I hadn’t had one of those in so long I could hardly remember… my belly clenched and warm liquid pooled between my thighs. I shifted away from him, not wanting my body to betray me further, not wanting him to sense my arousal.

M
y nipples pebbled under his intense gaze; I was in trouble. He was way too perceptive and my body acted so strangely, I writhed on the bench.
Please don’t let him notice how turned on I am at this very moment.

Heat simmered
in his eyes and held me captive as he reached out and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so shocked,” he said in a husky voice. “I wasn’t in the room with them. The moment was otherworldly; it would have been a privilege to be there. Such love and passion is a gift. One I hope to experience again.
Soon
.”

“Then how…?” I managed to gasp
, purposely ignoring his last words, my skin on fire beneath his touch. I was mesmerised by this stranger.

“I set up the lighting and multiple cameras at different angles before the event. Then I just left them to it. They did a pretty good job, even withou
t coaching, don’t you think?”

I broke the intensity of the moment by looking away. Even if I dared to dream of roma
nce, it wasn’t like me to be bowled over by a man so easily.

Life had made me quite cynical, especially the
last two years.