But she wasn’t sick. She knew she wasn’t, just as she knew this feeling went beyond the shared desire and kisses she and Logan had already experienced. She didn’t just like Logan. She wasn’t just attracted to him. She suspected she could fall in love with him, and that was more than she’d counted on. Cold from the floor seeped through her bare feet and into the pit of her stomach.
The bathroom door opened and Stacey entered. “Hey, sorry. I swear, I think my bladder’s shrinking with every ounce this kid gains.”
Rachel laughed. “No worries. I was the same way when—” She stopped herself from finishing the sentence, pain stunning her like a slap across her face. When I was pregnant. Had she actually gotten so complacent with these people—with Logan—she’d forgotten? She couldn’t allow that, could never excuse herself from the guilt and the pain.
Stacey came out of the stall and washed her hands at the sink next to Rachel. She didn’t appear to have noticed the hesitation in Rachel’s conversation. “At least I’m past the constant nausea. A month ago I wouldn’t have been able to face those fish tacos, but I’m fine with it now, thank God.”
“Those were great, weren’t they?’ Summoning all her strength, Rachel faced the other woman’s pregnant glow and pasted a smile on her face. “I’ve heard the second trimester is the most fun. Have you felt the baby move yet?”
“Just a little here and there.” Stacey’s expression softened. “He’s been kicking around a little tonight, actually. Here…” She took Rachel’s hand and placed it on her rounded belly.
Rachel refrained from pulling away with difficulty. She bent her head so the other woman couldn’t see her face, focusing on her hand and remembering placing it on her own belly… She gasped at the unexpectedly strong kick, undeniable as an electric shock, and allowed herself the relief of yanking her hand away. Summoning her smile again, she said, “He’s strong. I didn’t think you’d be able to feel it so early.”
“Well, I am five months along, so he better be getting strong.” Stacey rubbed her belly again and then laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rattling on for at least ten minutes about him, haven’t I? Andre swears I can’t talk about anything else and Lydia just gets bored by the whole thing. I’m sure she’ll think different when it’s her turn.”
“I’m sure she will.” Rachel turned under pretense of checking her makeup, got control of her churning emotions and returned her attention to Stacey. “We should get back, though. Only…” she hesitated, then plunged on. “Just enjoy this. All of it.” Her lips quirked in the first sincere attempt at a smile of the evening, and it felt as if it were on crooked.
Stacey gave her a curious look, then took her hand impulsively. “I am.”
“Good.” The word choked out of her throat and Rachel fled.
****
“So you really believe this place has some sort of magical healing powers?” Andre leaned on the bar across from where Logan was polishing the glasses he’d just washed. Tony and Lydia had disappeared into the back and Stacey and Rachel were still in the bathroom.
Logan didn’t answer until he’d finished the last glass and put it away. Then he turned to his friend, flipping the towel over his shoulder. “I believed it enough to start this place. I hoped it would help more people than just me.” He thought of Rachel and almost sighed. Every time he thought the magic of the island might help her heal, she pulled away. He’d seen it in her eyes when she went to the bathroom. His story about the island had brought her just a little too close to believing.
He heard the bathroom door open and saw Rachel coming toward him, her eyes a little too bright. She looked so vulnerable in her white sundress and bare feet. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until she was ready to trust him with whatever sorrow burdened her.
A few more days. She’ll be okay if she stays here a few more days. I’ll wear her down and she’ll tell me about it and then the healing can begin.
She started toward him, and he suspected she was going to ask him to take her back to her room. He was ready to oblige, but just as she reached the bar, Stacey came out of the bathroom and the kitchen door opened, spilling out Tony and Lydia as well as several of the kitchen staff, Ramon and Tammy carrying a large birthday cake. Without pausing to think what he was doing, Logan reached across the bar and caught Rachel’s hand as his other friends closed in around them to sing “Happy Birthday.”
He managed to keep hold of her while he came around the bar to stand next to her. Just from the light touch of their hands and where their shoulders brushed he could feel how tightly coiled she was. As the last notes of the song died away and he blew the candles out, she gave his hand a squeeze and kissed his cheek. But then she pulled away and in the press of congratulations from his friends and co-workers, he lost sight of her.
What had begun as an intimate dinner party with a few friends had become an all-out birthday blast. And though he’d made it a point not to celebrate his birthday since Nora’s death, he couldn’t find it in his heart to resent his friends. Not even Tammy, who’d probably orchestrated the whole thing. But this was not what Rachel needed and certainly not what he’d had planned for the evening.
He gritted his teeth until everyone had their cake and a glass of champagne in hand. Only then did he search for Rachel. She stood at the edge of the light, half-turned away, her arm held by Stacey, who looked anxious. Rachel shook her head, her raven hair falling over her shoulders. When had she released it from its ponytail? Not that it mattered. Logan started toward her, but before he could take more than a step, she glanced his way and pulled her arm from Stacey’s grasp in the same moment. She backed away, saying something to Stacey, her eyes still on Logan. She shook her head, turned and fled.
Logan hurried to Stacey. “What did she say?”
“Just to tell you she was sorry, she couldn’t stay.” Stacey looked troubled as she turned to him. “And that she can’t believe anymore. Logan, what’s wrong with her?”
“I wish to God I knew.” Logan drew her into a quick reassuring embrace. “But I promise I won’t let her leave until I find out.”
He forced himself to relax as he worked his way back through the little crowd to speak to Andre and Tony. She couldn’t leave the island tonight. Not without someone informing him, anyway. There was a small flight coming in but none scheduled to leave. So she had to go back to her room.
Unless she finds the Spanish kid. Or somebody like him. Or somebody worse. The thought sent a stab of worry and jealousy through him. He caught Andre’s arm and pulled him aside. “I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, but why?” Andre looked confused. “Is it Rachel? Are you sure about her, man?”
“I’m sure.” The urgency in his chest increased and he started to turn when Andre caught his arm. He stopped, prepared to yank away from his friend if he had to, but he caught a look of concern on his friend’s face.
“Let him go.” Stacey’s voice caught their attention and they both looked at her. She stepped forward. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but Rachel needs you right now, Logan.”
Logan nodded. “You guys stay. Enjoy. And don’t even think about asking for the bill, Andre. It’s on me.”
With that parting shot, he practically ran from the bar, hurrying to retrace the steps he’d walked so leisurely with Rachel earlier. Her sandals were gone. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not, but surely she’d want another shower before going to a bar. Her room must be the first place he tried.
She answered his knock calmly. “I’m sorry I left.”
“You’re sorry?” He stared at her, taking in her disheveled hair, her still bare feet, her rumpled dress. Without thinking, just happy he hadn’t found her at the bar or in the embrace of another man already, he put his arms around her waist and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.
For a long moment he just held her, his lips against her hair, breathing her scent, but when her arms looped around his neck in a motion sugg
estive of surrender, he turned his head, capturing her lips with his. God, had anything ever felt more right than this? He adjusted his stance to accommodate her shorter stature, hands still on her waist. He felt her hand in his hair, her lips open beneath his, her tongue velvety soft against his…
He needed to slow things down and find out why she’d run, but somehow he lost track of that in his desire to take her to the bedroom and know every inch of her, to hear her cries of fulfillment even before he took her…
“God.” He gasped the one word prayer for strength and wrenched himself away. He took a deep breath. “Not yet.”
“Why the hell not?” Although the words were confrontational, her tone was more amused. He took encouragement from it.
“You said you don’t believe in magic. Would you believe in magic if you could do it?”
“For an ex-magician, you’re very mysterious. I can’t do magic tricks.”
“Anyone can do magic.” He took both her hands. “I see it every day.”
A strange expression flickered over her face. Desire, hope and lingering cynicism seemed to war for control. She sighed. “I wish I could believe that.” She glanced at the roses in the bud vase on her table, then back at him. “Fine, tell me how to do the trick with the star.”
He shook his head. “That I can’t tell you. And why not the rose? It’s a pretty cool effect, I think.”
“Not as cool as the star.” She indicated the rose. “Although the rose is very impressive. Elegant.”
He nodded. “Exactly. Elegant in its simplicity.”
She frowned, spreading her hands. “Okay, I get that you want me to believe in magic. But why is it so important to you? What’s your point?”
He met her gaze. “My point is, you’re not asking me about the rose because you don’t feel threatened by it. You’ve seen the effect a thousand times. It’s a good one, especially when it’s done well, but you’re not concerned it’ll make you believe in magic. The star on the other hand…” He shrugged. “If I tell you there’s a trick behind that one, you may never believe.”
“If I don’t want to believe in magic, isn’t that my business?” Her expression clouded.
He nodded. “That’s true. But it’s not my business to give you the fuel you need to not believe.”
She tilted her head, an interested look on her face. “But you are in the business of helping people believe.”
He hesitated, struck by her words and how close he’d come to saying the same thing. When exactly had he gotten back into that business?
She interrupted his ruminations. “I still want to know about the star, though.”
“I tell you what, I’ll do it again for you and if you can figure it out, I’ll tell you if you’re right.”
“What? Right now?” She looked startled.
“Right now.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s dark. Should be a star or two if we go out on the balcony.” He picked up an empty wineglass and held it out. “Well?”
Her chin tilted up at the challenge, and when she reached for the glass her fingers brushed his. He wondered if he’d made a mistake. If any woman could ever learn all his tricks, it was surely this one. But he also knew he wanted to try, and he had the definite impression that this might be the most important trick he’d ever done.
Chapter 5
Rachel hesitated at the doors leading out onto her private deck. “Don’t you need to do some sort of, I don’t know, preparation or something?”
He laughed at her, his eyes dancing. “What? You mean for the trick? I’ll tell you a secret.” He brushed her hair back and leaned over, his lips close to her ear. “Real magicians never have to prepare—as far as you know.”
A pleasant shiver went through her. A vague memory stirred. Her mother in the kitchen preparing for a dinner party. A good hostess has all her preparation done before the party so it looks like she gets to enjoy everything as much as her guests. She pushed the memory away, knowing it would lead to others where she was the perfect hostess with everything prepared ahead of time. She’d already broken her vow never to cry again once that day. She steeled herself against doing it again.
Lifting her chin, she stepped past him onto the deck. Her hands gripped the white-painted wrought iron railing. His body was solid and warm behind her, but she clung to the cold metal rail as if to keep herself from flying up into the stars. She felt almost certain whatever he was about to do—whatever she was about to see—would surely turn her world upside down.
The tropical sun had set long before. She wondered what time it actually was but didn’t really care enough to find out. Diamonds peppered the velvety black sky, and he wanted her to pick one. She lifted her hand and pointed. “That one.”
He rested his chin on her shoulder, bending his legs so his tall frame molded against hers. She watched his hand the entire time as he reached past her arm, closed his long fingers and brought them back to the glass, releasing the light into the bowl of the wineglass. She stared in wonder at the blue light.
“Did you see a trick?” He smiled at her, offering her the glass, his hand still firmly on top of it.
She shook her head, not in denial but because she didn’t want to take the glass. She’d have to let go of the railing and then she’d have no choice but to surrender.
His eyes narrowed and he lifted the glass with the hand covering the top. He considered the pinpoint of light for a moment, then drew his other hand in front, blocking the light from her eyes for a second. When he removed his hand, the light was gone, but he reached inside, then held his hand out, palm up. A diamond-like crystal winked at her. She wanted to believe it was the star.
And why couldn’t she? If he wanted to give her the stars, why couldn’t she just let him?
Her heart squeezed in her chest in a peculiar fashion she hadn’t expected. She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh God.”
“Are you all right?” His expression changed from triumph to concern.
“I’m—” not. And I don’t think I ever will be again. She accepted the crystal and let go of the railing at the same moment, looking at him. “Don’t leave tonight.”
“That was never my plan.”
Her heart pounded in her chest and she tried to come up with a sexy retort, but the emotions of the afternoon got in the way. Instead, she met his gaze with more sincerity than she’d allowed herself to show a man in months. She wanted him to kiss her, her body thrummed in time with his. And she knew her gaze told him that.
Nodding as if satisfied, he finally lowered his lips to hers, releasing her chin to put both hands on her hips and mold her to him, compensating for the several inches height difference with the ease of a tall man who had kissed many women. Her body tingled where he touched it, and when he moved his hands from her waist to the bare skin of her arms, beginning to taper off the kiss, she moaned softly. “Don’t stop now.”
He laughed, drawing away just enough to look down at her. “You taste so damn sweet.”
Her body ached and she slipped her arms around his neck, not letting him move away. If he left her now, the temporary thaw of her heart might refreeze, leaving her incapable of ever feeling this way again. “Then don’t stop.” She breathed the words against his ear, feeling him tremble a little when she nipped at his earlobe. A heavy feeling of arousal weighed her middle. God, she wanted him. And he wanted her, too. In that moment, it was all that mattered.
****
She’d come to life in his arms as certainly as if he’d conjured her up, but the woman he held wasn’t an illusion. Partly the sweet and vulnerable woman he’d known once as his wife’s best friend, partly the sexy goddess he’d become acquainted with since she’d come to the island, this Rachel embodied everything he could ever have desired in a woman. And now that he finally had her, he never wanted to let her go. He kissed her neck just below her ear, his fingers sliding under the straps of her sundress, pushing them down her shoulders as he followed his gentle touch with a trail of kisses�
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“God yes.” She breathed the words, and he wasn’t sure if she was answering a question or urging him to continue, but it didn’t matter anymore, and he had no intention of stopping to ask…
“Rachel!” The sharp female voice made him start back. He turned his head, confused to find a young dark-haired woman standing at the open sliding glass door. She resembled Rachel enough to make him look twice. A little rounder, a little softer, not so breakable. This woman looked like she could bounce, and she was obviously used to being in charge. She hurried forward, grasping Rachel’s arm and pulling her away.
“Jesus!” Rachel glared. “What the hell?” She stopped at the sight of the other woman’s face. “Angel?”
Angel pulled Rachel into a firm embrace, fixing Logan with a reproving glare. “Oh, honey, I’ve missed you so much. You should never have left us like that.”
“Left you?” Rachel looked stunned. “You—God, Angel, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m bringing you home. You shouldn’t have left.” She shot Logan another look, then turned her back on him, dismissing him. She brushed Rachel’s hair back. “You’ve been living the wrong kind of life. You can’t keep up this way. You can’t just go around sleeping with any good-looking guy you happen across. God. What kind of diseases have you caught already?”
Logan looked from one woman to another in confusion. “Okay, maybe introductions would be in order here?”
Rachel spared him a quick look before turning back to Angela. “Angel, maybe you’d care to meet Ian Logan.”
“Your latest conquest? Not interested.” Angel didn’t even look at him.
“Logan owns the resort, Angel. He’s not…just…my latest conquest.” Rachel’s amused grin made Logan relax a little.
“Then it was your office that called.” Angel gave him a sharp look. “I suppose I should thank you for letting me know where she is.”
Island Magic Page 6