Once back home I found it irresistible to hang the painting immediately. Taking it to my room and adjusting it along my wall.

I had to take down paintings of an old ranch house and a sunrise, but they now seemed so inconsequential compared to the depth of this man's face. And I wanted him lined up with my bed so, after adjusting it side to side a few times until it was perfect, I could return to my bed to look at it.

I was still staring at it as I reached behind my back to awkwardly catch the zipper of my slitted black dress. Tugging it down made the shoulder straps dip forward. One of them sliding over my shoulder to dangle along my bicep. In a way I felt the heat of the painting's silvery gaze as if he watched me undressing. Bidding me to do more.

For him.

I licked my lips. Looking back at him as I slid my shoes from my feet and tossed them along the wall. Then opened the part in the side of my dress to begin rolling down my stocking. Taking it off before hanging it over the back of the wooden chair. I did the same thing with the other. Stepping from the dress I folded it over the seat of the chair.

I straightened in only my thin lacy braw and stringy underwear. I walked closer to the painting to peer at the insignia in the corner. One hand braced on the wall so I could look more closely at it.

I couldn't read the artist's signature. But just above it he'd kindly printed 'A Face of Gray.'

Gray? I looked at the man again.

He looked so life like, I'd almost felt like his penetrating gaze had moved to watch me rising from the corner of the painting to look at him levelly.

I gasped somewhat startled but as my gaze roved the intricate detailing, I realized I was just being foolish. Overly fanciful.

My mind returned to the mystery of the man. Why 'A Face of Gray'?

Because of his gray eyes? Or his gray clothes?

Or had that been his name. I could picture him having a name like Baron Graystoke and being haughtily dubbed 'Gray'. I fancied it. Imagining him as some grand lord who'd have left ladies swooning.

I loved the idea of that time period.

***

I finally turned my back to the painting to walk across the room, promising myself I could study him more once I was laid down. I passed the large black and gold shoe chest at the foot of my bed. As I walked, I found myself looking into the mirror above my bed and seeing my cloud of silky brown hair down in waves around my face. My large brown eyes seeming somehow hollow compared to the depth of Gray's gaze.

I slid under the blankets in my bra and underwear. Liking the feel of the cottony sheets under my back and up across my chest.