RAZZLE DAZZLE

by Lisa Hendrix

  Her heart stopped and restarted again. She took a deep breath. “I don’t have any money. I can’t save your company.”

  “But you can save me.” He kissed her cheek. “And Sam.” The other cheek. “And Fremont, too, because as a wedding present I’m going to have the damned building redesigned.”

  “Oh. Oh!” She flung her arms around his neck and peppered, kisses over his face. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Even without the building. But I want the building. Oh, Mason, I love you so much.”

  The last two miserable days vanished at the touch of his lips against hers and all that was left was the glory of kissing him and touching him and knowing it was, finally, truly, all right to be with him. That was all she wanted, to be with him, and as close as possible.

  *

  Twenty

  « ^ »

  Mason pulled her into the bedroom and it was Saturday night all over again, the two of them stripping away each other’s clothes until they stood there, skin to skin in the morning light. His hands played over her skin possessively, lighting tiny fires wherever he touched, and he touched everywhere, making her ready.

  When she was more ready than she’d ever been in her life, she tried to pull him toward the bed. He stopped her.

  “I haven’t seen you,” he said. “Not really. Let me look at you.”

  He backed way, leaving her there in the middle of the room. His eyes never left hers as he turned on the lamp beside her bed, and then he slowly, very deliberately, let his gaze wander the length of her body.

  She closed her eyes and stood there, taking it, melting from it, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “My turn,” she said, her voice shaky.

  He nodded, and stood for her while she looked to her fill. He was very male, all angles and sinew, as beautiful as an ancient statue minus the fig leaf. He was aroused, and she found herself staring as though she’d never seen a man before. When she thought about it, she never really had, not a man like this, who loved her, and whom she loved and wanted so badly.

  She stepped forward and, with a boldness she’d never suspected, curved her hand around him.

  He shuddered, then wrapped his hand over hers and showed her what he liked as he kissed her.

  She was going to drive him crazy, Mason thought, and he encouraged it for as long as he could bear it and then wrapped his arms around her and spun her down onto the bed.

  And then something about lying there on top of her made his brain reconnect with a thought.

  “Raine.”

  “Hmm?”

  “The other night, I… Were you a virgin?”

  She got very still, and he kicked himself for asking the question, but it was out there between them and he couldn’t take it back.

  “No,” she said. “I wish I had been.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. To me.” She looked away from him, toward the wall. “When I first got to Claremont, I went a little nuts. You know, small-town girl away from home for the first time. One day I wised up and promised myself I’d never sleep with any man I didn’t love and who didn’t love me. I kept my promise, too, until you came along. I was pretty sure I’d messed up with you.”

  “You hadn’t. I just didn’t know yet how much I needed you and loved you. Raine, whatever has made you who you are, I’m glad. I only asked because I was concerned that I had hurt you. You screamed.”

  “It had been a long time. A very long time.” She looked up at him, and the mischief was back in her eyes. “But that scream had very little to do with pain. Want to see?”

  She wriggled beneath him and Mason felt himself grow more taut.

  “Very much so. However, while I’m still capable of rational thought…” He rolled off her and found his coat on the floor. He pulled a small package of condoms out of the pocket and tossed the jacket over the back of a chair.

  “You have condoms in your suit?”

  “Presumptuous, aren’t I? I found an all-night drugstore before I came to get you. I knew if I touched you it would be all over.”

  “You had those on you the whole time we were down at the site?”

  He nodded.

  “And you strung me along and let me think you still hated me?”

  “I never hated you, Raine. I was furious at you and the circumstances, but I never hated you. And as for stringing you along, I didn’t intend to, but I had to be certain it wasn’t just lust. I had to know that I loved all of you, the way you are, even in those areas where our minds will probably never meet. And most of all, I had to be certain that you loved me.”

  “Well, I do, and boy, are you going to get it for making me wait. Get over here and let me take out my frustrations before you make me late for work.”

  He got, and her frustrations were mighty. She teased him with mouth and hands and body. Even putting on the condom became part of her revenge. She managed to drag that one simple act out for five minutes, until he vowed he’d had enough, and he rolled her over and pinned her to the bed.

  Then it was his turn to torment her, and he took his time about it, lazily kissing and tonguing his way down her body until she began to thrash and beg for him to put an end to it.

  He shifted up onto her, and the weight of him, hot and solid and crazed with the same passion she knew, was so intense that the first touch of his entry pushed her right up against the edge. As he moved in her, the tension coiled tighter and tighter until with one more thrust, it uncoiled in a rush and left her shuddering and moaning his name. He slowed, allowing her the full measure of her orgasm before he pushed on to his own. His shout mingled with the last of her sighs, and they collapsed together in the tangled, damp sheets.

  “Sometime,” said Raine, yawning, a few minutes later, “we ought to try this when we’re wide awake and don’t have to be somewhere else. I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Call in sick.”

  “Fine corporate leader you are. Anyway, I can’t. I already missed most of Wednesday. They’ll fire me.”

  “So?”

  “It’s my job. I like it. And besides, we’re not married yet, and I have bills to pay.” She yawned again and snuggled against him. “But maybe just a few more minutes.”

  A few minutes turned into much longer as her breathing quickly settled into the slow, regular rhythm of sleep. Still feeling the effects of all that coffee, Mason lazed beside her, watching her sleep, debating whether to wake her or to just lie there enjoying her warmth and let her get fired so he could keep her in bed late anytime he wanted.

  He decided on a compromise and slipped out of bed when she was soundly asleep. He pulled the bedroom door shut behind him and lifted the phone off the cradle to punch in his office number. It was much too early to expect Chris to answer, but he left her a voice mail message saying he wouldn’t be in until late, if at all, and leaving Raine’s number in case of an emergency. Chris understood exactly what an emergency was: something or someone broken, bleeding, or on fire, not a relative with an ax to grind.

  Next he dialed information for the number for Johnson’s Landscaping.

  “Mason Alexander,” he identified himself when Mrs. Johnson picked up the line. “I have a special project I’m working on and I need one of your people today. Raine Hobart.”

  “I think that can be arranged,” said Mrs. Johnson. “As soon as Raine comes in I’ll send—”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting Miss Hobart directly, and she’s on her way now. I told her I’d follow up with you. Just send the bill to the house. You have the address. Thank you. Yes, all day.”

  He hung up, one day of hooky neatly arranged. His third call was to the house. Lawrence answered—thank goodness, the fellow was a paragon of discretion—and Mason asked to speak to Samantha on the QT.

  “Hello.”

  The sound of her voice took his breath away. Two days, and she already sounded older. “How are you faring, squirt? Did you have a good time at t
he McMullens’?”

  “Yes. I’m way taller than Adeline now, but she plays the piano better. When are you coming home?”

  “I’ll tuck you into bed tonight, I promise. And we’ll spend a big chunk of the weekend together. I’m sorry I didn’t see you last night. A lot of things happened.”

  “Good things or bad things?”

  “Mostly good. In fact, mostly very good.”

  “Did you really fire Paul? He’s packing his books and stuff, but he says he can’t leave until you bring his car back. Why do you have his car?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I have some news especially for you, but I want to tell you in person. I’ve got to go, squirt. You can tell Gran I called, but don’t tell her anything else, okay? I need to do the talking.”

  “Okay. I love you, Daddy.”

  “Me, too, squirt.”

  A quick raid of the fridge for a glass of milk, and he was ready to crawl back into bed next to Raine.

  She was beautiful lying there, but Mason understood that it was more than quenched physical desire that had filled the unholy emptiness he’d felt. Raine had brought light and love back into his life when he’d stopped believing in either. She had a talent for simultaneously accepting and giving with her whole heart, and an ability to roll with the punches while laughing at whoever threw them, which was rarer than stardust and more valuable than any combination of capitalization and stock options that the Wickershams could put together.

  He closed his eyes and buried his nose in her hair, and inhaled. The scent of her mingled with the slightly bleachy smell of the sheets and the fresh morning air coming through the open window, and for the first time in ages, the world was truly good and he felt a sense of hope. They’d be all right: Alexander Industries and Sam and all of it would be fine, somehow, because of Raine. Much as she did with her decorating, she would take all the detritus of their lives and somehow make it work together. For all that he disdained witchcraft, he was going to have to thank his mother and sister for making this particular piece of magic possible.

  The next thing he knew, he was being punched in the arm, and the light coming through the window was the brilliant white of high noon.

  “You let me fall asleep, you creep.” She crawled over him—an enticing sight, naked—and dashed to the dresser to start pawing through drawers. “I’ve got to call Mrs. Johnson and try to keep my job.”

  “Slow down. I took care of it.” He explained the call he’d made.

  She wasn’t quite as thrilled as he’d thought she’d be. “Gee, thanks. The saving grace in this is that Mrs. J. doesn’t have a nasty thought in her head. But the guys on my crew are a different matter.”

  “You can show them your engagement ring Monday morning.”

  “Oh, big help that will be.” She stepped into a pair of white panties—cotton, Mason noted, but with high, French-cut legs that made him want to slip his fingers under the edge. “They’ll see a ring and they’ll know it was no special project.”

  He rose and walked up behind her and proceeded to indulge his whim, taken by the thought that from this day forward, he could indulge all of his whims where loving Raine was concerned. He ran his hands up along her waist and rib cage to cup her breasts. Her nipples hardened against his fingertips, and his desire flared again, a little less desperate than before. And that was good, too.

  “It doesn’t matter what ‘the guys’ think. Your time is mine today, and I intend to get my money’s worth. Come on.” He took her hand and led her back to bed. “You said you wanted to try this when you were wide awake. And besides, I want another taste.”

  *

  Conscious, lazy afterglow was even better than Raine had expected. Not much could beat lying in bed next to Mason memorizing whiskers and playing with his chest hair in between long, drugged kisses.

  They finally crawled out of bed sometime after three, and while Mason was in the shower, Raine proved she could cook, too, by whipping up a batch of soda biscuits from scratch and scrambling some eggs with ham and the one green pepper that hadn’t died yet.

  “I hope you made a lot,” he said, buttoning his shirt as he walked out. “It’s been a long time since those peanuts at the bar.”

  She eyeballed the pan and reached for the last two eggs in the carton. As she cracked them on the edge of the bowl, she asked, “Whom do we tell first?”

  “Samantha,” he said without hesitating. “And then Mother and Miranda.”

  “What about Caroline? Shouldn’t she be first?”

  “Technically,” he said. “But I may need tactical support to handle her and Angus. She’s going to be a handful. She’ll probably threaten to emasculate me.”

  “She’d better not. Those are my toys now.” Raine abandoned the stove to demonstrate her protectiveness.

  His eyes twinkled as he removed her hand to safer territory. “Don’t start anything unless you plan to follow through.”

  “You’re no fun.” She went back to the eggs, whisking the new ones and adding them to the skillet. “Anyway, right after Caroline, I’m calling Bemidji. I can hardly wait to tell Mom and Dad.”

  “We’ll fly there in a couple of weeks. I want to meet them.”

  “Not just them. Brothers, sisters, cousins, cousins of cousins. We’re a big clan. And I’m the only one that’s moved away.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  They devoured the food the way they had devoured each other, without much talking, then Raine took a shower while Mason checked his voice mail. She smoothed her wet hair into a chignon and put on another of the outfits she’d bought on his account, a conservative, tailored dress in ashes of roses that made her look more like she belonged on the society pages than in mug shots.

  She was working on her makeup when Mason walked in and pulled his neatly rolled tie out of his jacket pocket.

  “You look like some odd new flavor of sherbet,” he said.

  “According to color analysts, pink is supposed to make you likable.”

  “You already are likable. Mother even likes you,” he said, shaking out the tie and looping it around his neck. “She just doesn’t think I should marry you. And even that will change once she realizes I’m really in love with you and not the victim of her misdirected magic.”

  Raine stopped with her lipstick half on. “Are we crazy, Mason? We’ve only known each other two weeks, and if that potion really did—”

  “It didn’t,” he said firmly. “I may be willing to concede that feng shui skates on the outer edges of feasibility, but witchcraft? Not a chance. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No.” She finished her lower lip, put the top back on the lipstick tube, and turned around to him. “And that’s very odd, if you think about it. Everything in my life is about to change. No Mrs. Perlmutter. No neighborhood ball games. No kids in the alley. Yet I’m as certain that marrying you is right as I am that if I look up right now, I’ll see a dead president.”

  He stopped in midknot. “I beg your pardon?”

  She pointed at the ceiling. “See. The crack makes Abraham Lincoln’s profile.”

  Mason stared up. “My God, you’re right. I’m glad I didn’t know about him two hours ago. Sex and Honest Abe—” He shuddered. “Not in my mind. Are you about ready? I’d like to make a stop on the way.”

  She nodded and reach for a tissue. “Just let me blot.”

  *

  The stop was at the family jeweler, a shop that wasn’t at all on the way to the house. However, Mason enjoyed Raine’s reaction so much that the minor misdirection was worth it. Together they picked out an antique emerald and diamond ring that suited Raine better than the brilliant cut solitaire diamonds and modern settings the owner showed them first. The ring was a bit loose, but as a temporary measure Mr. Fussel fitted it with a spacer and told them to bring it back first thing Monday to be resized.

  Back in the car, Raine kept polishing the ring on her dress, then flashing it i
n the light. “I love it, Mason. Thank you so much. When I was a kid, I picked out a picture of a ring in a magazine and told my mom that was going to be my engagement ring one day. I swear, it looked just like this.”

  “Good. It’s beautiful on you.”

  She waggled her fingers. “It is, isn’t it? I’ll have to figure out something to do with it when I’m working, though. I don’t want to scratch it up or knock a stone loose or something. Maybe a chain.”

  She chattered on about weddings and honeymoons and the other cheerful details of impending matrimony on the way home, but Mason was preoccupied with rehearsing his speeches

  The security guard at the Highlands gate gave the car odd looks, but cleared them without comment. A few minutes later they turned into the drive.

  They both spotted the car at the same time: a black stretch Cadillac sitting off to one edge of the carriageway.

  “Company,” said Raine.

  “Angus,” said Mason. He slowed and stopped at the edge of the trees. “Damn. I’ll give you twenty-five to one that Caroline is with him and they’re all cozied up with Mother on the terrace.”

  “Wow. What now?”

  “We have two options. Tell all of them at once and get it over with in one messy scene, or take off and have dinner somewhere while we wait for them to leave. I can talk to Caroline tomorrow.”

  “Neither way seems very fair to her,” said Raine.

  “I don’t know. She—”

  The front door burst open and Sam came running out. She looked at the stopped car, then yelled and waved.

  “I think your options have just been reduced,” said Raine.

  Mason released the hand brake and they rolled the rest of the way down to the parking area.

  When they got out, Sam looked from Mason to Raine and back again. “I’m confused. Daddy. I heard Caro tell Gran that you two are getting married.”

  “Well, she’s partly right,” said Mason. He glanced toward Angus’s car and dropped his voice so the driver wouldn’t hear. “I’m getting married. Remember I told you a couple of days ago that you’d be the first to know when you were getting a new stepmom? Well, you’re so first that even Caroline doesn’t know yet.”