Hormones were the key, Megan decided. Not Need hormones, that could trap him into mental and emotional partnership for the rest of their lives. No, just plain old hormones of the full moon, pheromones, let-me-drown-in-your-eyes variety.
And that was pretty good for a girl's ego, no matter how old she got.
"If we did anything, he wouldn't get trapped, would he?" she asked her father in a quick consultation just minutes before going on stage.
"What do you mean by anything, baby?" Morrigard scowled, looking more fatherly and protective than he had in--well, more fatherly and protective than he ever had.
"If we had sex, if I really am in Need, he wouldn't get trapped, would he? I mean, I'm only a Halfling--"
"There's no such thing as only a Halfling." He sighed and leaned back, floating in the iridescent communication bubble. He was currently in Bermuda, trying to contact some friends inside the Triangle Enclave. Communications were always iffy with the Triangle Fae.
"I want him, Daddy. For however long he'll stay." Megan shuddered a little as she vocalized what she had been dancing around for weeks. "I don't want him to be stuck with me if he doesn't want to stay."
"Baby." Morrigard shook his head. "If he really gets Need-bonded with you, he'll want to stay. Believe me."
"But will it be real?" she whispered.
"You're a magician. You tell me what's real." He winked and snapped his fingers. The bubble popped, vanishing in a rainbow of sparks.
Alexi tapped on the door before Megan could do more than inhale to let out a stream of curses in ten different languages. She choked, grabbed at the bowl of dark chocolate breakup some considerate soul had left in her dressing room, and shoveled a handful into her mouth.
Thanks to the chocolate--high quality, shooting straight to her nerves and her libido in five seconds flat--Megan had herself under control. The show must go on, after all.
And after the show... Well, there was a time for magic, and a time for nature to take its course.
* * * *
"I have an idea for a new illusion," Megan said, as she came to rest in the doorway of Alexi's dressing room.
"What do you plan on doing?" He bent to pick up the shirt he had dropped when she startled him.
Alexi hadn't expected her because he had been busy speculating on what sort of hot, steamy dream would invade his mind and torment his body tonight. If it wasn't such agony, keeping his hands off her, he might have enjoyed the excursions. Megan's innocent sensuality constantly fascinated and enchanted him. Hearing her voice over his shoulder startled him.
"Me? I'm going to take a nap. This one is all up to you." She grinned, winked, and beckoned for him to follow her.
Alexi sighed, bit his tongue to keep from begging her to leave work for tomorrow, and followed her down the hall. He would rather bite her earlobe. He forgot his silent grumbles when they stepped out onto the deserted stage. Sparkling, swirling stars and clouds surrounded the transparent surface. It looked just like the dream the other night when he had managed to take over, just for a moment.
Did Megan remember it?
His pulse picked up and his mouth went dry at the thought that maybe, just maybe, she had decided to make dream reality.
Alexi nearly laughed at the deafening thuds of his heart. When had he become skittish at the thought of wooing a woman, taking her into his arms and kissing her until they both melted? He hadn't been celibate that long, had he?
No. He grinned in answer to Megan's questioning little smile. It wasn't the enforced and strangely pleasant celibate life. It was Megan. She wasn't just a woman, just a bundle of warm, sleek limbs and sweet scent. She was Megan, and everything inside her beautiful package.
Unwrapping the package... Well, if he was lucky, if she was agreeable, his dream might just come true tonight.
"Nap?" he said, when she just stood there, her head tilted to one side, and studied him.
"Oh. Right." She rolled her eyes and shrugged, and he had the feeling her thoughts had been somewhere far away.
Megan looked him over, head to toe, that measuring look she had given him when they first met. Nothing new about that. She often did that when assessing how they would choreograph a new illusion. But she licked her lips, slowly, just the tip of her tongue. Alexi's pulse tripled.
"We're doing a version of the Princess in the Castle." She looked away.
Megan? Nervous? The idea intrigued him. Alexi stepped closer.
"I'll be in a series of transparent boxes, surrounded by fog. You have to work through each box, removing different supports, until you finally get through to me. By then, I'll be floating on nothing."
"I'll do the usual rings and ropes and other tricks to show you really are floating on nothing." He nodded, liking the idea of the sweet torment he would go through, so close to Megan, touching her, with an audience blocking him from following through on his hungry dreams.
"Maybe with the afternoon matinees, with kids in the audience, you can bring them up onto the stage to help you. Then, you bring me down to the ground, set me upright--" A nervous little chuckle escaped her. "But you can't. I keep going horizontal and floating, until you wake me up." She met his eyes. Started to shy away. Straightened her shoulders and swallowed hard. "With a kiss."
"A kiss." Alexi knew he wasn't imagining those sparks, those hints of flames in her eyes. "That won't work."
"Why not?" Her voice squeaked.
"I don't think I can stop with one kiss."
Megan froze. For two agonizing heartbeats, he knew he had made a mistake. It wasn't nervous eagerness he saw in her eyes, it was distaste and fear. She had probably tried to figure something else to break the "enchantment" and end the illusion.
Then she smiled, that pallor vanished under a rosy blush, and sparkles filled her eyes, more dizzying than the swirling stars all around them.
"You know," he continued, "that's an important part of the illusion. I might need to practice. To get it right."
"Oh, definitely," she whispered.
"And I think we should agree right here, if I can't stop, it's not my fault. This was all your idea." He had restrained himself all this time because the only thing more painful than not kissing Megan was the thought of never seeing her again, because he had crossed the boundary line.
"You're worried about your job?" Megan stepped close, so her warmth crossed the tiny gap of air between them. "Think about it this way: if you don't kiss me soon, you're fired."
"You're the boss," Alexi murmured.
At least, he meant to just murmur, but it ended on a growl as he wrapped his arms around her and yanked her up close against him, chest to knees. He paused just for two heartbeats, long enough to say he had given her a chance to change her mind. Megan laughed and levered her arms up between them. Alexi took a deep breath, aching with a sharp pain he had never felt before, and tried to brace himself to let go of her. Then she slid her arms up around his neck.
Alexi felt specks of magic dance around them, arching out of his body, through his body, wrapping threads of magic around him and Megan. All right, so his magic was malfunctioning once again. He didn't care. All that mattered was absorbing every bit of the experience of kissing Megan.
It occurred to him, as he drowned in the apple-wine taste of her, that his old tutor was right. Some things were better for having worked and waited for them. Instant gratification wasn't everything it was cracked up to be.
Megan, warm and soft in all the right places, sleek and strong, smelling of rosemary, tasting of apples and chocolate and cherry cola, took all his attention.
He kissed a long, slow, warm line down her throat, startling laughter out of her. It hummed against his lips, raising the temperature in his belly a good twenty degrees.
"Is this whole working together thing--" She sighed when he licked the hollow of her collarbone. "Is this going to be a problem?"
"Problem?" He raised his head to meet her eyes again. Sometimes he couldn't read Megan, and that in
trigued him more than any artifice she could have used to snag his attention.
"I've been waiting for you." She shrugged, as much as she was able, firmly pressed against him. "I won't backtrack. And I don't want to lose you as my assistant and partner and best friend."
"Best friend, huh?" Something primal, deep inside, roared triumph. "What's the next step up from best friend?"
"Let's save that for the morning, okay?" She tangled her fingers in his hair and drew his head back down so their lips met with hungry force.
"My place or yours?" He swept her up in his arms.
Megan laughed and the sound buzzed between their mouths. She didn't answer. They didn't get any further than her dressing room, which conveniently had a daybed disguised as a couch.
Alexi could have sworn something grabbed his legs to tug him off balance and something else shoved him down on the bed. He let out a shout of surprise that died in a groan of purely hedonistic pleasure. Megan, soft and warm and vibrating with laughter, pressed into the mattress under him, was a sensation worth dying for. She fit against him as if they had been carved to match in all the right places. Soft and sleek, elegant and strong. She laughed when he struggled to straighten them out so they lay down the length of the bed instead of their heads hitting the wall and their legs hanging off the side.
"Not so fast, buster," she growled, and tangled her legs with his.
Then suddenly Megan was on top, her legs wrapped around his hips as she straddled him. She froze, eyes widening, as if she shared the tidal wave of sensation tearing through his body.
"Uh, Alexi--"
"Hurry," he growled.
After that, talking was impossible, as her mouth joined his in a kiss that merged their souls. The dressing room vanished around them. All he knew was Megan, in his arms, hungry for him, holding on so tightly he knew he would have bruises like trophies of honor when morning came.
Mine, the beast deep inside him howled in triumph. All mine. Forever!
* * * *
Somewhere around 4:00 a.m., Megan realized two things. First, she liked being on top, which none of her previous lovers--three husbands, because she considered herself an all-or-nothing girl--had ever allowed her to experience. But most shocking, she realized she had been a snob, thinking that lovemaking with a Human was much more elemental, pure, an art form.
Alexi used magic purely to increase her pleasure. He focused his incredible mouth on sensitizing every inch of her bare skin. Then his hands took up where his mouth left off. When she rose above the maelstrom of sensations through the night, she saw his magic field burned bright, almost blinding blue, tending toward the white of the purest, highest power available. Alexi, concentrating solely on her, had full control of his magic.
Magic kept them on the daybed, when all their rolling and somersaulting and wriggling should have had them on the floor several dozen times. His magic kept housekeeping and other early morning denizens of the casino from knocking on the door, asking about the racket. Or worse, just barging in and getting an eyeful.
Maybe, she thought in those drowsy moments of purely luxurious, semi-aching exhaustion, Alexi had problems with his magic because he tried too hard. Maybe his whole aristocratic background was the problem. When he let go and just enjoyed himself...
She purred and snuggled closer. Alexi let out a richly satisfied little rumble of laughter and tightened his arms around her. She didn't mind that he had revealed a caveman side. Megan was delighted that he was possessive of her, because quite frankly, when Alexi let go and just enjoyed himself, he was everything a woman could want.
She intended to keep him.
How to do that without terrifying him?
Go to the extreme, perhaps?
"You realize," she murmured, when Alexi's hands drifted down her back again, lightly tracing her curves under the cape they used as a blanket, "you're never getting away from me?"
"Getting away?" Again that totally chauvinistic rumble of satisfied laughter. "Who said I wanted to?"
"Good, because the alternative is to keep you handcuffed inside my dressing room, except when we're on stage. I don't want to spend money on bruisers to keep you from running away, but I will if I have to."
"Hmm, I guess that means boss-lady is satisfied?" Alexi rolled her over so she was underneath him and they were nose-to-nose. "So, I didn't just destroy my career?"
"I don't want to be your boss, in anything," Megan whispered. "I mean it. Completely partners."
She held her breath, and closed her mind tightly against the image of a pair of gold rings and a high-class Vegas wedding chapel, complete with doves, silver bells, and miles of white lace and roses. She didn't want to scare Alexi away. Teasing about keeping him prisoner was one thing. Actually shackling him to her was another. The way to keep a man prisoner, according to Desdemona, was to make him think it was all his idea.
"Partners." Alexi's smile made his eyes glow silvery blue. "How about..."
"What?"
Alexi shrugged and tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her head still as he slowly brushed his mouth across hers in soft kisses that stole her breath. Through her closed eyelids, she saw his magic flare even brighter as he fit his hips against hers. She felt the pulsing of his magic in the synchronized beating of their hearts, felt the sizzling of magic in his skin against hers.
Had he figured out that he needed her to keep his magic steady? Was that why he... No. Megan shoved that thought away and threw all her passion into the kiss. She refused to believe that he wanted her for anything more than hot, explosive sex.
An hour later, when they had worked through passion into exhaustion and a short, blissful nap, Alexi woke her with more kisses and whispered, "Roommates."
"Hmm?" Megan knew the last few hours had definitely fried a couple hundred brain cells.
"Roommates. Partners in everything." He lifted his head enough they could see each other.
"Uh, Alexi--"
"Were you joking, when you said you wouldn't let me get away?"
For ten long, agonizing seconds, Megan stared into his eyes, shadowed with drowsiness, the bruises on his mouth that came from hours of kisses, his silky, tousled white hair. He was fully serious.
"No, I wasn't joking," she whispered.
"Neither am I. Besides." He sat up and slid off the narrow bed and reached for his scattered clothes.
"Besides what?"
"I don't really like the idea of Desi walking in on us. I like her, but not enough to see her every morning. Especially before she's had her first cup of coffee."
That earned a sputter of laughter from Megan. The sound died as she watched Alexi's sleek, elegant backside while he searched for his clothes and got dressed.
"My place is little better than a closet. Much as I like this place..." He paused to slide his socks on, then gestured around the dressing room. "I don't want to live here. I do want to live with you, however. So, let's go. We only have about--" He checked the clock over the door. "About six hours before we have to be back here to get ready for the next show."
"Go where?"
"Hunting for a place to live." He yanked the cape off her. And froze.
"Alexi?" Megan shivered.
"Um..." He licked his lips and turned his back to her. "Maybe I should get out of here while you get dressed. Or we'll be late for our first show."
Megan laughed. It was so ridiculous to contemplate Alexi being that distracted by her body. Even if she really was caught in the middle of Need.
She gasped as that thought came crashing down on her. If she was in the middle of Need, Alexi had just trapped himself with her for the rest of their lives.
Did he know it? Did he mind?
Strike that question. She was going to make sure Alexi was glad he had been trapped. And that meant scrambling to get dressed and go house-hunting with him.
They found an apartment that suited them both, far enough from the high-traffic part of the city to give them a sense of privacy,
with lots of room, and a mall close by to take care of all their provisioning needs. It was Alexi's idea to get basic furniture on their way back to the casino. She laughed at the image of Alexi turned so utterly domestic, so quickly.
Megan stopped laughing when she realized Alexi's idea of basic furniture stopped at a huge brass bed with four pillows for each of them and three sets of satin sheets.
Despite arriving at the casino an hour before their first show, they nearly missed it. Even Alexi's unconscious magic couldn't keep an irate stage manager from banging on the door and interrupting their celebration.
Chapter Seven
Alexi considered taking a psychology course. He needed help to figure out what had happened to him. He had never been happier in all the centuries of his life, and his magic hadn't been steadier for the last three decades. He knew it was all because of Megan. She made him feel complete, happy, eager for every new day. The problem was that he couldn't quite figure out how it happened.
He couldn't risk contacting a counselor in the Enclaves to get his answers. What if the wrong people found out where he was? He needed to find out exactly how he landed where he was, happy and fulfilled and steady, so he could make sure he stayed that way. So he could protect this perfection he had found with Megan. Because the bottom line was that even if he married Megan--and that showed just how far gone he was, that the thought of marriage didn't give him hives--he feared it wouldn't do him any good if some woman caught in the throes of Need caught up with him. He wanted to stay with Megan. Forever, if possible.
Three weeks after they moved into their new apartment, they had a luxuriously furnished bedroom and fully stocked kitchen and not much else. They loved to eat, to cook for each other, and spent all their time at home either in the kitchen or the bedroom. What else did they need? Megan laughed when he suggested they might want to expand their horizons and visit a store that didn't deal with gourmet cooking supplies or linens. Then she signed up for a Victoria's Secret account.
Smoke and Mirrors Page 6