Damon, Lee

by Again the Magic

  Kitt snapped to awareness at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and Ez's low voice talking to Hero. Drawing a deep, painful breath, she realized that all her muscles were knotted with tension and that she had been holding her breath in the excitement of achingly vivid memories. Forcing herself to breathe slowly and steadily, she consciously relaxed her tight muscles. There was a soft click of .Ez's door closing, followed by muted sounds as he moved around getting ready for bed. She heard Hero pushing open her door and then felt a slight jar as he jumped onto the bed and thumped down by her leg.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on blackness, refusing to let any more memories surface, and in a few minutes Nature took over and dropped her into a deep sleep. It wasn't until the predawn hour, when her internal clock was starting to bring her out of sound sleep, that the dreams began. At first, they were the nice dreams that O'Mara had wished her—scenes from the long-ago summers and, finally, as she tossed restlessly and kicked off the covers, the continuation of her earlier memories of that last night. She twisted in the lighter sleep and one arm lifted and reached out as she pictured O'Mara suddenly rolling away from her and sitting up, head down on his arms resting against his upraised knees, his back heaving with deep, rasping breaths as he fought for control. She lay stunned for a moment and then pushed up on one elbow, oblivious to her half-naked state, and reached to put her hand on his back. He spun around, fist raised and swinging at her face, and she screamed as she realized it was Leon's face, contorted with rage, that was behind the moving arm. She rolled frantically to avoid the blow and came awake as she landed in a sprawl on the floor.

  Pushing herself to her knees, shaken with deep, dry sobs, she didn't hear Ez's call or the thud of his running feet. Her numbed mind was just beginning to register her surroundings as he dropped to his knees beside her and his big hands closed gently on her shoulders.

  "Kitt, are you all right? What was it, another dream? You screamed. It's been a long time since you've done that."

  "I'm... I'm okay," she gulped, trying to get control. "Let me stand up. I'll be all right in a minute."

  He stood, pulling her up, and reached for the robe draped over the foot of the bed. "Here, put this on; you don't need a cold along with everything else."

  "You're a fine one to talk." She laughed shakily. "I'll bet you don't even know where the top to those PJs is. You're coming out in goose bumps."

  "Never mind me. Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Now that I'm awake, I'm fine." She pushed her tangled hair back. "Look, why don't you go back to bed. I was going to get up in another half-hour anyhow. O'Mara's picking me up at five-thirty. Now that I'm more or less awake, I'll have a cup of coffee and then get dressed."

  "Oh, well, I'm awake now, too, at least temporarily. I'll have coffee with you and then sleep a few more hours." He pushed her toward the door. "You go get the coffee ready while I put on a sweater. It really is freezing in here. I'll turn on the heater in the bathroom," he called after her. "It should be warm by the time you finish your coffee."

  Chapter 7

  An hour later, in the gray light of dawn, the scrunch of tires on gravel sent Kitt dashing for the door, Hero bounding at her heels. They reached the foot of the stairs in time to see O'Mara extricating himself from an elegant, cream-colored sports car, whose classic lines were in sharp contrast to his very casual attire.

  Kitt stopped a few feet from him, and they both started laughing as they eyed each other's worn running shoes, faded jeans and black and gray alpaca sweaters—his sweater was gray with a black design, worn over a black cotton-knit turtleneck, while hers was gray on black over a white turtleneck.

  "Great minds?" Kitt asked.

  "ESP. We've always had it. This just proves it's still working." He grinned, walking around to open her door and tilt the seat forward. "Into the back, Hero. Come on, let's go or we'll miss sunrise."

  She tucked herself into the low bucket seat, glancing around the luxurious interior of black leather and walnut while he walked around and slid behind the wheel. Eyeing the complexities of the instrument panel, she asked, "Whatever is this piece of extravagance called? And what happened to the jeep?"

  Tossing her a quick grin as he pulled out of the lot, he scolded, "Woman, speak with respect. This is a Mercedes 450SL. The hardtop comes off in another week or so, and it's a convertible for the summer." He gave her a sly look from the corner of his eye and added, "You'll love it."

  Ignoring the provocation, she shook her head and sighed mournfully, "It's a shame how success changes people. I remember when you were a man of simple tastes, who appreciated sunrises and watching sandpipers scurry along the beach, and were perfectly happy with your charming old Chevy."

  O'Mara tried to say something, choked on his laughter and finally managed to gasp, "You've got a wicked tongue, to say nothing of a faulty memory. That charming Chevy was falling apart. You should know—you helped push it often enough. And I still like sunrises. I'm taking you to one, aren't I?" Serious now, he glanced at her and said consideringly, "As for my tastes, they couldn't have been all that simple. I chose you, didn't I, and there was never anything simple about you, my girl. Innocent, yes, but never simple."

  Her head jerked around, and she stared at him disbelievingly. "What... what do you mean you 'chose' me? We were friends... the three of us were friends... and whatever happened between you and me just sort of happened."

  "Kitt, Kitt, you make an elegant ostrich. But if you feel more comfortable believing that's the way it was, go on believing it. For a while. But we've already lost too many years. I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers again."

  "O'Mara...." Kitt took a deep breath. She was half-turned in the seat, watching his face, trying to decipher his expression. "I don't understand... All right, there was something between us, maybe... love, or the beginning of it... I was never sure. You were the first man who'd ever touched me or really kissed me. Afterward, in those first months at college, I used to think about us a lot and try to figure out whether what I felt was just a crush or... the real thing. If I could have seen you again, or even if you had called me... but there were just those few chatty letters about your new job and not a word about us, and then nothing."

  He was frowning, his lips pressed together in a thin line, by the time she finished speaking. She couldn't see his eyes to read his expression, but she did notice that his knuckles whitened as his tanned hands clenched over the steering wheel. Not sure that this was the right time to discuss the past, she was still impelled by the memory of those sleepless nights and the hurt she had felt when he had apparently dropped her without a word of explanation. And it had hurt. Oh, how it had hurt.

  She shifted her gaze down to where her hands were tightly gripping each other in her lap, and waited with trepidation for him to break the fraught silence. Perhaps she had angered him by implying that he had been unkind or thoughtless. It had all been so long ago that it would be stupid to pick a fight now over an adolescent disappointment. No, dammit, more than just a disappointment.

  She flicked a quick look at him. He was concentrating on the road, but a muscle was twitching in his cheek, and his mouth was still tight. She shifted around and stared unseeingly out the window. After her vivid recollections of the night before, the details of the ending to that last summer were fresh in her mind. Thinking about it now, with the hindsight of experience, she knew she couldn't have been wrong—he had been as emotionally involved and as aroused as she had been. He had taken them to the edge, and she had been willing... no, more than willing... eager, flamingly eager, to fall over that edge with him.

  Resting her elbow on the top of the door, she pressed her fist against her mouth and closed her eyes, feeling again his weight on her, the soft brushing of fur against her bare breasts, her heated response to his coaxing tongue and, most of all, the hot, aching need that had thrust her hips against his hardness. She had been so lost in her first experience of passion and in her feelings for
O'Mara that she'd been unaware of practical details. She never remembered who'd pushed his shirt off or why her legs were suddenly bare and no longer constrained by her skirt. It was his voice, almost unrecognizable, groaning hoarsely in her ear, "Kitt, my Kitt, we can't," that had brought her to a hazy realization that they were almost naked in each other's arms.

  She must have made a sound, and O'Mara's questioning "Kitt?" brought her abruptly back to the present. Cautiously, she turned her head to meet his gaze, not sure how much her face was revealing. Quite a lot, apparently. She bit her lip and looked away from the amused understanding in his eyes. Damn him, I don't even have private thoughts anymore. She forced herself to look back at him, only to find that he was again concentrating on the road, but now, his expression was no longer angry or bitter. And since he already knew where her mind had been, and they had more or less already started the discussion....

  "What happened?" It came out as a husky whisper.

  He glanced at her quickly and then turned back to face front. She was puzzled at what seemed to be an expression almost of self-disgust.

  "Oh, the nobility of man," he finally said sardonically. "I was trying, Lord help us, to be fair to you. At least, that's how I started out. You were so damn young in so many ways, and I'd been fighting my own battles for what seemed like forever—I was determined to 'make it.' I'm not sure if I even knew exactly what that meant to me then. Getting to the point where I didn't have to worry about next month's rent and feeling that I was doing something productive, I guess. But one thing I was sure of, I couldn't afford a wife, and there was no other way I could have taken you to Washington with me. Besides, I didn't think it was fair to you to tie you down with that kind of commitment, then."

  She gasped, and his attention was momentarily diverted from the road as he scanned her startled expression. "Oh, yes," he said softly, looking back at the road. "I thought about it. Quite seriously. But... it wasn't that I didn't want you with me, Kitt... I did... but you were just beginning college, and you hadn't had a chance to date anyone but Ez's friends or me. I wanted you to have your college years and a chance to meet other men and make sure that what you felt for me was strong enough and important enough to last a lifetime."

  "How were you going to find out if you never saw me or kept in touch?"

  "That's the biggest mistake I ever made," he said bleakly. "Do you remember when I wrote you that I wanted to come up to Massachusetts that first Christmas to see you, but I couldn't get time off? I planned to take a few days when you were home for spring break. But then, just after the first of the year, I was approached by... a government agency, and offered a different kind of job. They were interested in my abilities and educational background, they said, but most of all they were interested in the fact that I had no family ties or close friends who would become concerned if I disappeared for periods of time."

  "O'Mara, were you a—"

  "Don't ask," he cut her off. "I still can't talk about it in any specific detail. Let's just leave it that it was a very high-risk occupation, and the money was fantastic. It was also supposed to be for a limited time—no more than four years of active work out of the country. After that, I could stay on in a position near Washington, or they would help me get into something else. At the time, it seemed too good to turn down."

  "You're mad. From what you said the other evening, it was dangerous," Kitt wailed.

  "Don't get upset now." He chuckled. "Oh, I know it wasn't at all sensible, but then, neither was I in those days. It seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity. By the time I was through with the basic commitment, you'd be graduating and we'd have enough money to start a life together without having to budget too tightly." He hit the steering wheel with his fist and groaned, "Talk about blind, one-track minds! Don't think I haven't kicked myself purple more than once over the years."

  "You never considered that you might meet someone else?" she asked wistfully, thinking of all they might have had, if only....

  "No!" The explosive exclamation scattered her thoughts and brought her attention back to what he was saying. "And, since this seems to be a moment of truth, I'll tell you that Laura wasn't really 'someone else.' She was fun, a good-time girl, someone to laugh and relax with while I was recovering from some... injuries. It wasn't serious for either of us— just a casual couple of weeks in the sun. When I left, I had no plans to see her again."

  Kitt leaned back in her seat, gazing out the window and becoming aware, for the first time, of the road they were traveling.

  "This is Route One," she said, puzzled. "Where are we going?"

  "Ogunquit Beach. It's a beautiful beach for walking. Have you been there yet?"

  "No, not yet," she said absently. She turned to look at him, her expression becoming more alert and a bit quizzical. "If it wasn't serious, how come you ended up married to her?"

  He glanced over at her with a rueful tilt to his mouth. "You might call it an accident." His eyes returned to the road as he continued, "I was back in Washington a few months later on another leave, and a friend invited me to a party. Laura was there, and we sort of picked up where we'd left off. I was only going to be around for a few weeks, and she didn't care for long-term relationships."

  He glanced at Kitt again and smiled slightly at the disbelieving look on her face. "I told you, she was a good-time gal. Fun and games and no involvements. She wanted bright lights, parties, lots of laughs... and someone to pick up the checks."

  "So how did she—and you—end up married and expecting a baby? If she was that much of a play girl, I should have thought she'd know how to take care of herself."

  "One would think so. But evidently she had a bit too much to drink one weekend and forgot to take her pills. She didn't realize it until way too late. At least, I considered it too late. She came raging to me to pay for an abortion, and I refused. It took me some time to convince her that I had a right to an opinion, and even longer to talk her into marrying me. She only agreed because I promised that she'd be free to go after the baby was born."

  Kitt stared at him blankly and then started to laugh. "O'Mara," she gasped, "only you would make that kind of a deal. It's usually the man who wants out and only marries to give a baby a name—and a lot of them don't even do that. Whatever did you plan on doing with a baby and no mother?"

  "Just what I did—find a motherly woman as housekeeper and nurse." He took a deep breath and let it out in a gusty sigh. "I know it sounds crazy, but you have to understand-that was my baby, and I had no other family. Maybe it had something to do with being orphaned so young, or maybe it's just that we all need at least one person who belongs to us and to whom we belong. You should know what I mean—no matter what happens, you've got Ez and vice versa."

  "You're right, and I do understand how you felt. Furthermore, since meeting Gus, I have to say that it was all worth it. He's super."

  "You two seem to have a mutual admiration society going. He spent half of yesterday making plans for the summer, and at least eighty-two percent of them included you and Hero." He tossed a quick grin at her as he slowed in the center of Ogunquit Village to make the left turn to the beach parking lot.

  "Love me, love my dog," she said, laughing.

  "I adore your dog. He's a total eccentric." His lips twitched in an effort to restrain a grin, and he quickly flipped his elbow up to block the punch she aimed at his arm. "Control yourself for a few minutes. If you've got that much energy, I'll let you chase me down the beach. It'll help work up your appetite for breakfast."

  He swung the car into the parking lot and stopped at the edge facing the sea. The predawn light was pearling the sky above a dead-calm ocean. Seagulls wheeled and dipped, their raucous cries breaking the expectant hush of the new day.

  She sat quietly, letting her gaze drift over the wide expanse of gray water broken here and there by the jutting of black ledges. Off to her right, the sea lapped against huge, tumbled rocks around the base of a headland. Amused, she briefly noted the m
ixture of architectural styles of the many buildings topping the low cliff. She turned to look past O'Mara at a large, three-story motel which faced the road and parking lot on one side and the wide beach on another.

  Stubbornly, determined for once not to let him have it all his own way, she refused to meet his eyes, which she could positively feel traveling over her face. In a way, he had explained several things that had troubled her for a long time. Now, despite her understanding of his motivations and the unkind workings of fate that had kept them apart, she still felt somehow cheated. Cheated of the life they could have been sharing all these years, cheated of the joy of knowing that Gus—and perhaps other children—could have been hers, cheated of the ecstasy of learning about love and passion and caring from the man who should have been her teacher. And, inevitably, she resented what seemed like arrogance on his part in deciding the course of their lives without even discussing it with her. Perhaps, if her experience with Leon had left her with just one remotely happy memory...

  "Kitt, don't, please." There was a note of pain in his low voice, and it finally drew her eyes to him, wondering at his harsh, self-accusatory expression. She could not know how clearly her thoughts had been mirrored in her face.

  He reached out to press his hand against her cheek. "It was all my fault. I can't believe I could have been so damn stupid. Especially now that I've finally found you again and realize—"

  "Don't look like that!" she interrupted urgently, reaching for his free hand and holding it tightly with both of hers. "All right. It was dumb and damn stupid and... oh, hell, yes, I'm mad. You had no right to decide such a thing for me. But that was then and this is now, and... well, one minute I think it's the same with us, but then I know that we've... I've got a major problem, and I don't think it can be the same."