Texas Magic

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Texas Magic Page 5

by Jean Brashear


  “We don’t know that it’s Kassaros,” Bradley pointed out.

  “I feel it—” Dominic tapped his chest. “In here. I know it is him.”

  “Look, Dominic, I know you never wanted to trade stock publicly. That was my idea, a way to get the capital to expand back then.” He lowered his chin, looking down at the floor. He sighed, then raised his gaze to meet Dominic’s. “I shouldn’t have badgered you into it. We’re vulnerable until Lightning Quest starts paying off.”

  “It’s done.” Dominic waved the statement away. “We will deal with it. It’s hardly the first rough spot we have survived.” He’d built Poseidon from nothing. Hard work and nerve-wracking tension were nothing new to him.

  “Things have been pretty intense around here.” His friend paused for a minute. “You look tired. Head home, why don’t you?”

  Though he craved the oblivion of sleep, Dominic shook his head. “Not yet. Too much to do.”

  Much later, Dominic turned into the long drive to his hilltop mansion, suddenly struck by the comparison. His place was huge and luxurious. Worth a fortune and guarded by a high iron fence and elaborate security.

  It looked like a prison. He’d thought this place important, once. Now it only seemed sterile. He wanted to drive straight back to Lexie’s dome, to watch the clouds and twinkling lights on the ceiling, to swing on her porch.

  To try out the sultan’s bed. And the tub.

  He wanted to hear Lexie laugh, wanted to lose himself in her body again. The memories had drifted through his brain every hour since he’d left her.

  But that Lexie was gone, if she ever existed. The real Lexie was no different than any other woman, after all. Able to switch masks with ease.

  It would be awkward, working with her on the gala. There was not time to replace her—the date was too close. And she did wonderful work, he had to admit. When he had looked at the drawings after she left, he’d seen the same color and imagination he’d found in her home.

  No, she could not be replaced, even if there was time. What she had designed was exactly what they would need to launch Lightning Quest in an unforgettable manner. That had to be his only concern now, not some night he had taken for more than it was.

  Cursing himself sharply, he entered his house.

  “Señor Dominic,” greeted his housekeeper, her smile turning to a frown. “You have not eaten. You are working too hard. Sit down right now, and I will feed you.”

  Dominic had to smile. Mrs. Garcia clucked over him like a mother. She’d been in heaven when he’d brought Ariana home two weeks ago to become her newest chick. “Do I have time for a shower?”

  “Of course. But hurry now—I can see you growing thinner by the moment.”

  He chuckled. “Where’s Ariana?”

  “Out by the pool.” Worry crossed her forehead. “It has been one of her bad days.”

  Guilt assailed him. He should have been there when his half-sister’s selfish, grasping mother had died, leaving her penniless. She’d been easy pickings for Peter Kassaros. “I’ll stop to see her first.”

  When he opened the door, Ariana looked up, then rose to greet him. Willowy and tall, fragile as an orchid, she glided across the deck in a long white sundress that accented her heartbreaking beauty. Her eyes were as dark as his, her hair as black but straight and long.

  “You look tired,” she said.

  He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’m fine.” For a moment he wished he could tell her about Lexie, but she couldn’t help. No one could. He had made a mistake, that was all. The tomboy with the courtesan’s mouth was only a pose. “How are you? Did you rest today?”

  She made a moue of distaste. “Nikos, I can’t just lie around your house for months.”

  The name danced across his hearing in a way it never had. He wanted to hear Lexie moan it again. With effort, he shoved thoughts of her to the back of his mind. “You have been through a difficult time. You are allowed some time to mend.”

  He couldn’t bear the sorrow that robbed her of hope. He changed the subject. “Bradley sends his best.”

  A faint smile crossed her lips. “He called me. He wants to take me to dinner.”

  “Good.”

  “I don’t know if it is.” She glanced up, her gaze troubled. “I don’t trust my judgment anymore.”

  “Bradley won’t hurt you. I’d trust him with my life.”

  Then, for just a second, the old, irrepressible Ariana twinkled in her gaze. “But would you let him drive your T-bird?”

  Dominic chuckled. “My life, but not my T-bird.” And just that quickly, tousled auburn hair and mischievous green eyes leaped into his mind again.

  He had to stop thinking of her. That Lexie did not exist.

  “Come on,” he urged, needing the change in subject. “Mrs. Garcia wants to feed us.”

  Ariana smiled faintly. “Heaven knows we might as well obey. It didn’t take me long to learn that even my big-shot brother does exactly as Mrs. Garcia says.”

  Dominic chuckled, leading her inside. And tried not to look out across the violet hills and wonder what Lexie was looking at tonight.

  The next afternoon, Lexie stared around her as she drove through the gate and up the winding, tree-lined road toward the most whispered-about mansion in Austin, Texas. The land through which she passed had been left in its native state, live oaks and cedars screening the house from those passing along the road below.

  Her stomach jittered like she’d swallowed jumping beans. Nonsense, Lexie. It’s a job, like any other.

  She needed to treat it that way, but oh, that was easier said than done. Absently, she chewed on a thumbnail.

  Then she broke through the dense tree cover.

  There it was. The home of one of the richest men in America, grounds exquisitely landscaped around a solid white stone structure that could have perched on a sun-washed hilltop in his homeland of Greece. It looked as if it could survive for centuries, solid as a rock, softened only by the wide terraces that spilled down like stone skirts, open to the view from glistening walls of windows, each shaded from the blistering Texas sun.

  It was beautiful and cold and heartless.

  Just like the man who’d ordered her to meet him here.

  Nothing at all like the man her prodigious imagination had conjured up on one magic-filled night. That man could not live in this merciless beauty.

  She was early, on purpose. She wanted to walk the grounds where the gala would be held while she could still think straight, devoid of the confusion that had rendered her all but mute in Santorini’s office yesterday. When she’d been buzzed through the gate, she’d asked the man on duty if Santorini were here and breathed a deep sigh of gratitude that she’d arrived first.

  Lexie squared her shoulders, grabbed her portfolio and emerged from her pickup, striding toward the open meadow where she had signed a contract to make magic two weeks from now.

  She’d been measuring and marking, feeling like a vandal with her can of spray paint marking the rough edges of the layout for the crew that would show up next. But the work soothed her, engaged her mind in the one place she felt sure of herself—her work.

  So engrossed was she that the flash of white in the corner of her vision jerked her up straight, heart pounding.

  A woman watched her silently from the edge of the nearest terrace. Lexie’s first impression was of a doe, ready to flee into the forest.

  So Lexie smiled to reassure her. “Hello.”

  The answering smile was very white and fleeting in a face that could stop traffic.

  “I’m Lexie Grayson, the designer for the launch gala,” she said, approaching with her hand out.

  “I’m Ariana Santorini, Nikos—Dominic’s sister.” The resemblance was strong. The hand that clasped Lexie’s was slender, fragile despite Ariana’s height, and a little uncertain, just like her eyes.

  A wounded bird, afraid to fly, was Lexie’s first impression. Beautiful, startlingly so, the female counterpa
rt to her brother’s stunning looks. Long black hair gently swishing over her shoulders and the same ebony eyes.

  But not the same at all. Where Dominic’s eyes held power and strength, this woman’s eyes were pools of devastation.

  Nothing could have warmed Lexie more quickly.

  “Nikos called and asked me to tell you that he’s been delayed and to make you comfortable. Would you care for something cold to drink?”

  So the name wasn’t a lie. Hearing it said with such affection sent a jolt of sadness through Lexie’s heart for what she’d had—and lost—on a night she couldn’t seem to make herself forget.

  She reached into the huge bag she carried to jobs and drew out the bottled water. “I’m fine, thank you. I never know what the conditions might be on a new job, so I try to come prepared.”

  “Ah. Perhaps, then, I should leave you to your work.” But the lovely, haunted face spoke a different message.

  Lexie’s nerves were strained to the limit, dreading her meeting with Santorini. She’d welcome any distraction. “Please—I’d be glad of the company if you’d like to stay.” She gestured toward her portfolio. “Would you like to see my sketches of the design?”

  Dark eyes lit with the first flare of life Lexie had seen. What had happened to her? Was it Santorini’s fault that his sister looked so defeated?

  Could the man she’d known for one night destroy a woman’s soul?

  No. Lexie would never believe that.

  But the cold man who ran Poseidon?

  She honestly didn’t know.

  “I know you’re busy. Perhaps I should go.” Her voice, like her brother’s, revealed English as a second language, but Ariana’s usage of it seemed less formal. She turned to go.

  Lexie put out a hand to stop her, and Ariana recoiled from her touch. Though she drew away instantly, the reaction only increased Lexie’s confusion. “I’m sorry.”

  “The fault is mine. I—” Ariana’s eyes turned very sad. “I must stop jumping at every shadow.”

  “I don’t want to pry, but are you all right here? Do you need help?”

  Ariana looked startled, then honestly confused. “I am safe here. Nikos takes good—” The confusion seemed to clear. Rusty laughter bubbled up. “You thought Nikos would harm—” She laughed again, then just as suddenly, tears overflowed.

  Instantly, Lexie moved to comfort her, grasping Ariana’s hand and patting her back, wishing she understood.

  Ariana dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t seem—”

  Lexie drew her close and began to rock the woman, murmuring to her as one would soothe a child.

  A harsh voice cut through the moment, startling them both.

  “What have you done to my sister?” Dominic Santorini stood before them, his face thunderous.

  Lexie drew back from the hostility shimmering in the air around them.

  Before she could speak, Ariana did, moving closer to her brother. “She did nothing wrong, Nikos. Don’t blame her.”

  “What happened?” His voice was gentle as spoke to his sister, pulling her under the shelter of his arm. “You should be resting.” He shot Lexie a glare as if somehow she were at fault.

  Lexie saw a spark of independence flare, then fizzle. “I’m not an invalid.” Ariana pulled away, stepped toward Lexie. “I would like to see your drawings, if I still may.”

  Dominic spoke up. “Perhaps another time. I must return to the office in a few minutes, but we must go over some business details first. If you’d excuse us, please?”

  Ariana nodded and turned to go.

  Lexie bristled at the angry, arrogant man towering over her.

  Ariana cast one glance back. “It’s not her fault, Nikos.”

  “Go to Mrs. Garcia,” he said gently. “I’ll be inside in a few minutes to see you.”

  Lexie knew it wasn’t her business, but she couldn’t help being concerned. “What happened to her?”

  Dominic turned from watching his fragile sister’s back. His eyes were hard and cold. “It is not your concern.”

  Lexie swallowed the retort she longed to make. Thought about the fragile woman. “Fine. We can meet another day if you’d like to see to her now.”

  He shook off the suggestion. “I do not always have the luxury of doing what I would like.” For a moment, his gaze intensified on hers, almost as if his words had another meaning.

  The air around them thickened, ripe with challenge, bursting with memory.

  Lexie wanted so much to lean closer, to peer inside those dark eyes and look for the man she’d thought she’d known on one star-crossed night.

  Then he snapped his gaze away. “These markings are for what purpose?” His voice carried not one trace of emotion. Strictly business.

  Her spine snapped ramrod-straight. This is not Nikos. Remember that. She forced herself to concentrate on the man who stood before her, the man who’d built an empire, not the man who’d brushed grease from her cheek.

  Her gaze glanced down quickly at his hand, and her heart broke a little. He had beautiful hands, so strong, so capable of tenderness, of passion—

  “Ms. Grayson—”

  Lexie’s head snapped up. She was dizzy from the whiplash of her emotions.

  The markings. Yes. She cleared her throat. “My crew will shoot the grade and determine the best place to set the walls of the castle, but I’m marking the approximate location that suits the aesthetics, keeping in mind the view, proximity to parking, that sort of thing.”

  “Parking?” One raven eyebrow lifted. “There will be no cars allowed.”

  “For the buses. The—the suppliers’ trucks.” Pull it together, Lexie. You need this job.

  And Max needed her help.

  Very deliberately, she turned her back on him and focused only on the job. Ignored his autocratic manner, much as it grated. “Setting the entrance arch here will give the guests an impressive view as they come up the drive, increase their sense of drama and anticipation.” Warming to her subject, she continued. “There will be torches here, on either side, and we’ll have actors clustered at the gate.”

  She whirled to face him before she thought. “We’ll throw lighting up the walls to create intense shadows and increase the sense of impending doom, just as a player would feel were he really Carlon, approaching Lord Vadoun’s castle.”

  “You know the game.” Dominic didn’t try to hide his amazement that she’d gone to the trouble to understand more than the brief synopsis she’d been given.

  He shouldn’t have been. He’d seen her drawings and known already that she took her work seriously and, despite appearing to be barely past her teens, was thoroughly professional.

  She looked offended. “Of course. How could I design properly without really understanding?”

  “You’re hardly our target audience, Ms. Grayson. One could understand if you lacked enthusiasm for a video game.”

  “I wouldn’t understand. Besides,” she enthused, “It’s a cool game. I can’t wait to play it.”

  The sparkle that had undone him on Sunday was about to do the same again, if he weren’t careful. “You play video games? Pardon my surprise.”

  “They’re not just for the guys. Don’t limit me by your own narrow views.”

  And for one tantalizing second, he could almost see the tomboy who’d traded cheerful insults over cars, could almost see cutoffs and a skinny top instead of the sassy pleated skirt and thoroughly feminine blouse she wore today. For a moment, he was tempted to clasp her chin, to look for the sprinkling of freckles and the streak of grease.

  But she was already striding across the grass toward another marker.

  Dominic glanced at his watch and cursed silently. He wouldn’t be able to check that Ariana was all right if he didn’t leave soon.

  Lexie had turned his way. “Over here, we’ll have—” Her voice broke off as she saw that he hadn’t followed.

  Dominic sighed. “I apologize. I will hav
e to get the rest of the tour another time.” And he meant it, more than he could say. No matter how often he reminded himself that they had to work together, that he had no time to pursue whatever had happened between them, that this launch was everything to Poseidon, a corner of his heart rebelled at the loss of something he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined.

  But it wasn’t his lot in life to pursue his own pleasures, not when so many others depended upon him keeping his head on straight.

  Besides, from what he saw, she couldn’t care less about reliving that night. From the moment they’d been introduced in his office, the tomboy he might have only imagined had vanished as if she never existed.

  “No problem,” she said, her face composed and still. “If I need anything, I can contact Mr. Stafford, I assume.”

  No, Lexie. Fierce and sudden, the determination arose. I don’t want you to need Bradley. I want you to need me.

  It’s my own damnable luck that I cannot afford to need you.

  “That’s right,” he responded, turning away. “Bradley can handle whatever you need.”

  “I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible. Am I permitted to speak to your sister?” Her voice could have cut glass.

  He turned back. “My sister is very fragile right now. I won’t have you upsetting her.”

  “Your sister is lonely. Even a perfect stranger can see that.” Her chin tilted upward.

  Her accusation stung. “I do not need your help, Ms. Grayson. I will thank you to stay out of matters you don’t understand.” He was doing everything in his power to heal Ariana’s wounded heart, and he didn’t need a stranger to tell him he was failing.

  “If she speaks to me, I’m not ignoring her.” Defiant green eyes challenged him. Aroused him. Made him want to tell the world to go to the devil while he covered the distance between them and grabbed her, forced her to admit what they’d shared.

  But she looked as likely to spit in his eye as admit anything.

  And he had a crucial meeting to attend.

  “Be careful with my sister, Ms. Grayson. You can be replaced.”

 

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