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cocktail party. Beneath the din was instrumental music, accompanied by the unmistakable crackle of an old phonograph record. Toni pulled the floral scent into her lungs. She detected cigar and cigarette smoke and opened her eyes. She was surrounded by men in tuxedos and women in long party gowns at least two decades older than her own dress. They were clustered in groups, lounging on the sofa and gathered around the Victrola. The festive atmosphere was contagious.
    A couple stood just inches from her left shoulder. The woman was wisp thin and stood with her pelvis thrust forward, a delicate hand resting on her sharp hipbone. The man took a sip of his martini. “…and that’s when I told the old chap that I’d sooner ride an elephant through a monsoon.” The woman threw back her head and let out an exaggerated laugh. The insincerity of the reaction was obviously lost on the man, who provocatively raised an eyebrow. Toni shook her head. Maybe that’s the 1930s version of a faked orgasm , she thought.
    Toni reached out and waved her hand in the space between the couple’s faces. They took no notice of her. The woman slipped a silver case from her handbag, pulled out a cigarette and tapped it on the lid before sliding it between her red lips. “Those things will kill you, you know,” Toni said. The ghost ignored the warning and batted her lashes as her date flicked his lighter with a flourish. Toni chuckled. “I’m sure the smoking didn’t do you in. You probably starved to death. Eat a sandwich for God’s sake, woman!”
    The noise in the room suddenly diminished as if someone had dialled down a volume knob.
    “They liked ‘em skinny back then.”
    Toni wheeled around towards the door to face the source of the voice. A young man leaned against the doorjamb. His dishwater blond hair was greased into a pompadour. The collar of his scuffed black leather jacket was turned up and he wore a tight white T-shirt, jeans and black boots.
    “Kip?” Toni asked.
    He affected a bow then strode to where she stood. “At your service, doll.”
    Kip circled Toni, making no effort to hide his frank appraisal of her. She stood in place but turned her head to follow him. He passed right through the images of the other ghosts and when he’d completed his circuit, he let out a long wolf whistle. “That getup suits you.”
    Toni felt a flush creep over her chest and into her cheeks. Kip swept the back of his hand over her face. She was surprised that his touch felt warm and solid. “Aw, why so shy, honey?”
    “Toni,” she corrected.
    “Toni,” he repeated softly. “That suits you too.”
    He swept his gaze over her again from head to toe then slowly shook his head. “Mm. Mm. Mm.”
    His brazenness was unnerving. Toni smoothed her hands over the front of her dress. “Who’s was this?” she asked.
    “Preston’s wife’s. You fill it out better though. You look kind of like her—prettier—and she had red hair.”
    “You two were an item?”
    Kip laughed. “To hear the old man tell it, yeah. He was a jealous son of a bitch. We flirted, sure, but it was just for kicks. I never laid a hand on her—well almost never. I kissed her once. Not that I didn’t want to do more. All those curves. Man! A guy can dream. Right?”
    “So why didn’t you go through with it?”
    “Let’s just say we got interrupted. But that’s not going to happen to us. Is it, doll?” The ghost scooped up Toni’s hand and squeezed. A jolt of energy radiated up her arm. She jerked away.
    Kip narrowed his eyes. “Playing hard to get, huh? You weren’t so coy earlier—rubbing against me like you were. My dick’s been hard for hours.”
    He grabbed Toni’s wrist and flattened her palm over his crotch. He held her with his stare and she couldn’t help but knead the huge erection that strained against the denim. He let go of her wrist, but she didn’t pull her hand away. She played her fingers over the outline of his shaft, measuring its