Texas Magic

by Jean Brashear

  And just how much his vaunted self-control slipped every time Lexie was around. No one had ever gotten under his skin the way she did, and the distraction she presented was unsettling. Dangerous.

  If only he could find his way back to the tomboy, but that woman had vanished like mist in the noonday sun.

  His sister’s face bore not the smiles he’d hoped to generate by bringing her here tonight, but confusion and sorrow. “I am sorry. It has nothing to do with her.” It was only partly a lie. “There are matters at the company—”

  Ariana reached across the table to grasp his hand. “You can talk to me, Nikos. I care about you, and you’ve been so good to me when I’ve made such a mess of my life. Let me do something useful. I can listen, and I’ll never say a word. I worry about you because you’re so alone.”

  Dominic recoiled. He’d always been alone. He preferred it. “Do not worry about me, Ariana. Just concentrate on getting well.”

  “No man is an island, brother. We are not meant to be alone. All of us need someone to trust, someone to love.”

  Just then, Lexie and Max rose from their table and made their way to the door, Max’s arm slung around Lexie’s shoulder.

  Her best friend, eh? Inside Dominic, an ugly barb twisted. “Trust is a dangerous conceit, little one. Love is even worse. I do better alone.” Then he smiled and squeezed her fingers to take the sting out of his words. “But I do appreciate that you care. I’m fine. I am simply more accustomed to being alone.” He broadened his smile into one he hoped was convincing. “The French fries here are fresh, not frozen. They are an excellent example of the highest form of American decadence—shall we have some?”

  Though Ariana’s eyes remained troubled, her lips curved in a smile he welcomed. “Let’s have a lot.”

  Chief among his responsibilities was this tender creature. No longing, however fervent, could be allowed to jeopardize those who depended upon him.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  What a long day it’s been, Lexie thought the next evening as she drove back toward Poseidon headquarters near dark. The afternoon had been spent in long but productive meetings with two new clients who’d sought her when they’d heard she was doing the Poseidon gala. Dinner was only a dream; she’d throw together an omelet when she got home.

  Bradley Stafford had okayed this nighttime visit to the game’s designers, since they worked odd hours, mostly late. She needed to check her designs against the final game images. Most people wouldn’t notice, but to her, details were everything. And if, while she was there, she could find any evidence—

  “Evening, miss.” The security guard nodded as she made her way to the security panel.

  “Good evening, Mr.—” She squinted at his badge. “Mr. Carlyle. You doing okay tonight?”

  “Call me Bob. I can’t complain.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t help if I did.”

  “Is it hard, working nights?”

  “Nah. Better than being at home. The nights get long since my wife passed.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Been a year now. I’m getting used to being alone.” His eyes darkened. “Still miss her, though.”

  “I’ll bet.” Lexie wanted to sit down right here and just visit with him, instead of going forward. Maybe that was better. Maybe fate had put him here just to stop her from making a mistake—

  “Well, enough about me. You go on with your plans now. Have a good evening, Ms. Grayson.”

  “Lexie. And thank you.” But she wanted to beg to stay. It was only nerves. She wasn’t planning to do anything definite, just keep her eyes open and see if she could find out anything that might help Max.

  But she couldn’t stop scenarios running through her ever-fertile imagination, scenes where the nice man behind her read her intentions and suddenly shock troops surrounded the place, yelling through bullhorns for her to come out with her hands up, just before a hail of gunfire had glass exploding out of the window frames.

  She grinned at her own foolishness and went in search of the gamesters. Portfolio under her arm, she knocked at the door her security badge wouldn’t allow her entry. The door opened upon a familiar scene. Though the actual setup differed by an order of magnitude from Max’s hangout in their shared workspace, the tone of the place put her at ease immediately.

  These people were every bit as crazy as Max and his crowd.

  “Hi. I’m Lexie Grayson. I’m the designer for the launch gala for Lightning Quest.”

  She looked closer and realized that this was a boy, not a man who’d opened the door. If he was fifteen, she’d be surprised.

  “Josh Logan.”

  “Hi, Josh. May I come in?” He was still standing in the doorway.

  “Oh—yeah, sure.” He blushed. “Sorry.” He moved back and gestured her in, his movements the gangly metamorphosis of a boy approaching manhood, one foot in each camp.

  “I like your game. I can’t wait to play it.”

  “Yeah?” He blushed again. “Well, it’s not mine. I mean, I was part of it and all, but we had a whole team.”

  “I’d like to go over my drawings with you, to be sure the final product at the gala will be as close as I can make it.”

  “Me?” His voice broke. “Well, sure, I mean—”

  “Do you have your own workspace?”

  “Yeah.” He remained where he was.

  “Perhaps we could go there,” she nudged gently.

  “Oh—yeah. Right. This way.”

  She didn’t even know the names for much of what she saw. Computers and displays of every description, with scenes on the displays to make Max salivate—the place was barely-controlled chaos. Paper airplanes flew from the ceiling, but airplanes more wacky than any she’d ever constructed. The man nearest the door sat at a desk with a huge stuffed purple ape hanging over his partition. Someone had been to Mardi Gras—the poor ape’s color could barely be seen for the weight of all the sparkling bead throws draped around his neck.

  She wasn’t really surprised when no one noticed her entrance. She’d spent years feeding Max and his gang while they puzzled over this problem and that. Periods of frenetic activity would be succeeded by periods in which everyone in the room seemed to enter hibernation and vacant stares were the order of the day.

  “Nice place.” She turned to Josh, only to find him drifting toward his workspace again. She followed him, and though he blushed furiously every other minute, he was soon absorbed in showing off the wonders of their creation.

  Lexie waved goodbye an hour and a half later, but their heads were already turning back toward the problems in a new game they’d been contemplating when she arrived.

  Good thing. She couldn’t smile any longer. She’d gotten what she’d come for regarding last-minute details for her designs—but nothing concrete that would help Max.

  She’d purposely spilled Josh’s drink, then when he raced off to get towels to wipe it up, she’d used his absence to wake up his mouse, only to see lines and lines of unintelligible numbers and letters and symbols—and to realize that she was too far out of her depth to even attempt the keystrokes she’d carefully memorized from Max.

  All she had for Max was a mention from Josh about a program he’d written to break passwords. She would tell Max, but would that help? Josh had also said he’d made a breakthrough on a new algorithm—but what did that mean?

  She pulled open the door and nearly walked into Bradley Stafford.

  “Ms. Grayson. You’re still here?” His brows snapped together, his voice hard.

  She swallowed hard. “You said I could come and check my designs. I’m sure you also want this gala to be perfect, just as I do.”

  He looked at her, long and hard, then rubbed his face with one hand, his fatigue showing. He wasn’t so dapper-looking now. “These guys have a lot to do.”

  “I apologize. I’ll get out of the way.” She hesitated. “You look tired. Why don’t you go home?” she asked.

  “I
plan to do that as soon as I escort you out.”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she said breezily, trying to still her jitters. “That direction, right?” She pointed.

  His eyes narrowed. “I will escort you. As you might imagine, we are not fond of outsiders wandering the facilities.” He took her arm in an iron grip, and practically jerked her along. Lexie wanted to shake him off. His grip held firm, his expression thunderous.

  He couldn’t know what she’d hoped to accomplish, but she didn’t need his displeasure to be added to his boss’s. So she went with him quietly.

  Hoping he couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart.

  He should apologize. He would do that as soon as she called about her schedule.

  Why hadn’t she called, damn it?

  Dominic spun his chair around, away from the work he couldn’t seem to concentrate on, and stared out across the hills, seeing nothing but a sky-blue dome dotted with clouds and twinkling lights, hearing the creak of chains holding a swinging bed.

  Why, out of all the women he’d known, could he not forget this one? She wasn’t who she’d seemed that first day. That night that was seared into his brain.

  Do you believe in magic, Nikos?

  For one unforgettable night, he had.

  He should have it out with her. Now. Ask her, straight out, why finding out who he was had changed everything.

  But he couldn’t. Didn’t want to. He didn’t want those memories to die completely. Didn’t want to face that the magical sprite had vanished forever in the clear light of day. He couldn’t pursue anything between them right now, even if he could bridge the crevasse that widened between them with every passing hour.

  Dominic had never been a coward, never been afraid to face harsh, naked truths. His life had been filled with a lot of them, but the truth he would find if he forced Lexie to talk about that night…he wasn’t ready to face. She might be an apparition, that luscious tomboy who’d set his blood on fire, who’d made him laugh, who’d made him feel years younger and carefree.

  But right now, while he was fighting for the life of the company that was his only child… While he fought for the soul of his sister…

  He needed that apparition, that hope. Losing it would rob him of something essential, something he’d thought impossible to find amidst all the people who wanted him for what he had, not who he was.

  So he would make amends with Lexie, but he wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t talk about that night he’d tucked away for safekeeping.

  But one day, when this was all over, when Poseidon was safe, when Ariana was stronger—

  He would drive back to that dome and see if he could find the tomboy.

  Dominic heaved a deep sigh and was turning back to his work when the knock came. “It’s open.”

  Bradley opened the door.

  “Good morning—” Dominic looked harder. “What’s wrong?”

  Bradley stared at him for a moment. “You tell me.” He frowned. “What’s up between you and Ms. Grayson?”

  Dominic didn’t answer immediately. Bradley was his best friend, but there were some things he wasn’t prepared to discuss with anyone. “Why do you ask?”

  Bradley shut the door and crossed toward him. “You act odd when she’s here.”

  “There is much going on. We are both tired, Bradley. Perhaps you read too much into my actions. Ms. Grayson has a contract with us, and her work is crucial to a success we need very much.” He shrugged as if that were all there was to it. “I am very concerned. Perhaps I was not as diplomatic as I could have been.”

  “We could move the launch date. Hire someone else.”

  “Why would you say that? What has happened?”

  Bradley glanced away. “Maybe nothing.”

  He rounded his desk. “Don’t do that. Talk to me.”

  His friend eyed him carefully. “I’m not sure. There may be something funny going on. I’m just not certain she should be working on the gala.”

  “What?” Dominic stared, jamming his fists in his pockets, clenching and unclenching them. “Why?”

  “There has to be an inside connection to our troubles, don’t you agree?”

  Dominic nodded.

  Bradley shook his head. “She was up at the office late last night, visiting with the design crew. I saw her on the cameras, in Josh’s workspace. By herself.”

  Dominic’s stomach churned. No. He didn’t want to hear the rest, but he had to do it. “Where was Josh?”

  “Apparently getting towels to clean up a spilled drink. She was staring at his display.” Bradley frowned.

  “Lexie doesn’t know anything about our business.”

  “Lexie, is it?” Bradley’s eyes narrowed. “She knows more about Lightning Quest than anyone outside this organization.”

  “No. She would never—” Dominic stopped, aware that Bradley was studying him curiously. He backtracked. “I do not see how she would have the knowledge to do anything harmful.”

  “Suit yourself.” Bradley shrugged. “I saw what I saw. And she was nervous.” Then he shook his head. “She said she was only doing a last-minute check of her designs against the final images, but—” But he didn’t think so, that much was clear.

  Who was Lexie, really? Either she was for real, or she was the best liar Dominic had ever met. He shook his head in anguished confusion. If she was for real, then why had she done such an about-face like that? If she was a liar, how could he have mistaken her sweetness in the act of love?

  As he fought to retain a sense of Lexie, his doubts swamped in to overload it. He wanted to rush to her right now and demand an explanation. He’d force it out of her if he had to—

  He felt sick. He couldn’t care so much about a liar. He couldn’t fall for a woman who’d deceive and betray him.

  Except he knew he could. He’d done it before.

  Celia. The name still made his gut twist. She’d said she loved him, said he was her world. Said they’d build a life together.

  Then she’d stolen information from his fledgling company and run to a competitor with it. He had sworn he would never trust his heart again.

  Yet look what he had almost done.

  “No,” he ground out. “We won’t fire her. We will keep her close where we can watch her every move.”

  Chapter Five

  Lexie was hard at work sketching a sudden inspiration as the crew staked out the final location of the set. She didn’t have a lot of time today. Tonight was the Starlight Ball and she’d been juggling the two jobs for days. She’d decided that her meeting with Dominic later would go better outside with others around where she wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed by him. Meeting him alone in his office after experiencing Bradley Stafford’s hostility called for a far better poker face than she possessed.

  She glanced up and saw Ariana standing on the terrace, watching.

  “Hi,” she called out, smiling.

  Ariana waved but didn’t come closer, her posture uncertain.

  Sketchpad still in hand, Lexie walked over to her. “How are you?”

  The younger woman’s lips curved, though her eyes held shadows. “I’m happy to see you. You’re working hard on this hot day.” She pointed down toward sketchpad. “What is that?”

  “Just a sketch of an idea for a modification that occurred to me.”

  Ariana pointed one long, slender finger at a caricature Lexie had sketched in the corner. “That’s the blond man over there,” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting. “How long did that take you?”

  Lexie hadn’t even been conscious of drawing the workman. “A couple of minutes, probably.” She grinned. “I doodle while I’m thinking.”

  “That’s unbelievable. Show me.” She paused. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t have time.”

  She didn’t, but the eagerness that had skipped over Ariana’s face was irresistible. “Sure I do. Just keep talking.” She began to sketch Ariana in quick, sure strokes.

  “What shall I say?” The other woman’s gaze d
rifted downward. “Oh my goodness—look at that! So quickly—oh, please, can you spare a moment to show Mrs. Garcia?”

  “Who’s Mrs. Garcia?”

  “She’s Dominic’s housekeeper, but she mothers us both.” Her lovely face clouded, but she shook her raven hair and grasped Lexie’s hand. “I’ll fix you something cool to drink. Oh, this is remarkable—how do you do it?”

  Lexie barely had time to answer as she was swept inside.

  Dominic arrived home early for the meeting, though he was hardly eager to see Lexie, given Bradley’s news. He glanced over at the work crew but didn’t see her. He headed inside to get something cool to drink while he tried to assemble the composure that normally came so easily to him.

  He didn’t want to believe Bradley was right, but there was no question that Lexie had changed toward him once she knew his identity. And it was also true that their troubles had begun around the time Lexie got her contract at Poseidon.

  Never in a million years would he believe it of the tomboy—but the woman who’d taken her place?

  He entered through the garage and heard the giggling.

  Giggling? He recognized Lexie’s laughter immediately, and Mrs. Garcia’s, but the other voice? He hadn’t heard Ariana laugh like that even once.

  As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he took in several sights at once: Lexie’s slender back as she bent over a sketchpad, Ariana craning to watch, Mrs. Garcia’s face flushed as she stood still as though modeling.

  Facing his direction, Mrs. Garcia spotted him first and all but jumped out of her skin. “Señor Dominic, I didn’t hear you. Come, you must see what the señorita can do.”

  Ariana whirled, her eyes shining with a joy he’d thought never to see. “Oh, Nikos, look what Lexie can do!” She pulled at his arm to bring him closer.

  Lexie stepped away and faced him, guilt and distress chasing across her face, the sketchpad held tightly against her breasts. “I’m sorry. I lost track of the time,” she stammered.