Island Magic

by Michelle Garren Flye

  She felt him harden against her and couldn’t help a little giggle. “I’ll say.” She moved closer, sliding her hands between them to caress him. “What have you conjured up for me, magic man?”

  He laughed hoarsely and spun her around onto the bed. Off balance, they fell onto it together, and he kissed her passionately and thoroughly before drawing away enough to whisper, just audible above the storm, “I think you’re the magic one this time.”

  They made love again with the lightning, thunder and wind howling outside. But Rachel felt as if she’d never been more at peace than she was in his arms.

  ****

  The sound of the jungle outside woke him. He lay listening for a few moments, thankful the storm had left the cabin untouched and hoping the jungle hadn’t suffered too badly. He’d have to call Tony sooner rather than later, but he dreaded it. He wasn’t even sure why until Rachel moved beside him and he knew. He’d have to call Tony to arrange for their “rescue”. The ruse couldn’t be kept up much longer, and there was no need for it, anyway. He wasn’t the only one who had hit a reset button last night. Rachel was ready to face the rest of her life. But that meant it was time to tell her the truth, too.

  But not yet. She slept so peacefully next to him he couldn’t fathom how to tell her he’d deceived her. He couldn’t even honestly be certain what her reaction would be. How could he have known about this woman’s existence for nearly a decade—and now know her as intimately as it was possible to know her—but have no idea what her next action would be?

  God, she was beautiful, though. Perfect, peaceful, a tendril of her dark hair curling over her flushed cheek. She smiled a little in her sleep and he thought about kissing her into wakefulness, caressing her into arousal and enjoying everything that followed—

  “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

  Startled, he jerked himself out of his reverie to find her looking at him, wide-eyed and awake. He snorted and poked her. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

  “I was waiting for you to wake me up. Properly.” She gave him a demure smile.

  He laughed out loud. “Properly? Really? Let’s see if I can’t just do that.” He dove under the covers, catching her in the ticklish spots underneath her armpits that he’d discovered last night.

  She jerked and squirmed. “No fair! Tickling isn’t fair!”

  “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.” He moved to cover her squirming body, letting her feel his arousal.

  She froze beneath him. “Love and war?”

  He didn’t hesitate, brushing her hair from her face and kissing her gently. “Yeah. I wasn’t always sure which one this thing between us was, but last night love won the battle, I think. I love you, Rachel.”

  She sucked in her breath. “I…love you, too, Ian.”

  He grinned. “I like the way you say my name.”

  “Do you?” She kissed his chin, then his cheek. “Ian.”

  “Logan!” The shout from the living room made him start and turn his head just as the door opened and Tony appeared, his face anxious.

  Logan groaned and moved aside, felt Rachel sit up partway, remember her nudity and retreat beneath the blankets. “Tony? What the hell, man?” Confusion at his friend’s appearance gave way to irritation. What was Tony doing here now? Hadn’t they settled on one more day?

  Tony’s gaze took in the scene he’d walked in on and he stumbled a half step backward, looking a little embarrassed. “The storm…I was…”

  Logan glanced over his shoulder. Rachel peeked out of the blankets, her expression still amused. She obviously just thought their rescue had come at an inopportune time. Logan wanted to kiss her one more time. God alone only knew if she’d let him in a few minutes.

  “I’ll, um, wait…out here.”

  The door closed behind Tony and Rachel emerged. She rolled her eyes. “Good timing, huh?”

  “The best. He’s not in the magic business for nothing.” Logan chose his next words carefully. “We need to talk.”

  “About?” She sat up, brushing her hair back off her shoulders. “You think I have time to take a shower? I’d hate to hold up the rescue, but if there’s going to be anyone taking pictures, I’d rather not look like I just tumbled out of bed…” She trailed off and gave him a sly grin. When he didn’t answer it, her expression changed to one of concern. “Logan, it’s okay. I know, I hate for this to end, too, but this—between us—it doesn’t have to end. It’ll take some doing, but we can be together, see if it works—” She broke off when he took her hands. “What? You’re scaring me.”

  “We were never in a plane wreck.”

  “I know. You told me. You crash landed. Everything happened after…” Suspicion replaced the anxiety on her face, followed quickly by comprehension and dismay. “Oh my God.” She yanked her hands away. “It was all one of your damn tricks, wasn’t it?” When he didn’t reply immediately, she shook her head. “God. Really? I don’t know if I should be impressed or pissed off.”

  “I did it for you, Rachel.” He’d prepared himself for anger, shock or even disappointment, but he couldn’t quite face the look of horror in her eyes. “I needed to help you, but you were going to leave. And don’t tell me you weren’t trying to end it all. I know. I recognized the signs.”

  “From Nora!” She held out her hands, but withdrew them before he could take them. “I’m not Nora, Logan! You can’t save her anymore.” Shaking her head, she reached for her t-shirt and jeans, yanking them on. “I was perfectly happy with my deteriorating life until you came along. Trying to convince me I still have something to offer!”

  “I don’t think you would have come here—to me—if you were perfectly happy, Rachel.” He stood, making no effort to cover himself. He caught hold of her arms, turning her to face him. “You came here for help. Like it or not, you came to me for help. And that’s all I’ve tried to do.”

  Something flickered in her eyes and he had a moment of hope, but then she shook her head. “I don’t know why I came here. Maybe because I’d always had a crush on you. Maybe I was looking for some sort of magic. Not this, though. Not to be tricked and fooled and played with.” She snorted an ugly laugh. “Joke’s on you, though, Ian Logan. Must’ve cost you a pretty penny to get me into bed.” Her smile had turned sad. “And you coulda had me for free.”

  He took a step back, feeling a pain in his chest. He loved her, but he knew he’d lost her. He retreated to the truth, his hands falling to his sides. “Last night was about letting go of the past. It was about living again. And it was about the fact that I’m in love with you.”

  She had turned away, but his words brought her up short. She shook her head without looking back. “You should have let me go.” Her voice sounded very sad. “Because whatever you think you feel for me, I’ll never be able to let go of the past. And that’s just the way it is.”

  He watched her leave, nothing left to hide. A magician without any tricks was just a man, and that was all he had to offer her in the end.

  Chapter 11

  He arranged for her to leave the island that afternoon. She didn’t want to go with Angel, so he called in a private charter for her. He sat in his office alone, an untouched glass of Scotch on the desk next to his hand. He knew the moment her plane took off because Tammy came to stand in the door, her arms folded over her chest and a frown on her face.

  “What?” He glared at her.

  “What what? Did I say anything?” She glared back.

  “You didn’t have to.” He picked up the glass and studied the drink with no real interest. “I heard it loud and clear.”

  “Great. Then you know I think you’re an idiot. First you fall for a woman who is actively trying to destroy herself. You risk your reputation, your fortune and even your freedom to help her repair herself and then you just stand back and watch her leave? Aren’t you going to at least go after her?”

  “Why?” He shrugged, setting the drink aside and folding his arms on the desk in front
of him. He fixed Tammy with an attentive look, a student in front of a teacher. “Why would I?”

  She threw her hands to the ceiling in a gesture of frustration. “God! To protect your investment if nothing else!”

  “There’s no need.” He stood, heading to the window. On an afterthought, he turned back and picked up the glass. “I did it. She can move on with her life. But she doesn’t want me in it. Now go away, Tammy. I want to get drunk.” He tipped the glass back and drank half its contents in one gulp.

  Tammy made a sound of disgust, but he sensed her presence leave the room. Outside, he could see the pool and the beach beyond. The DJ was playing the music too loud. He should check into having the bar turn it back a little, but he felt listless, his energy spent. Maybe he’d go back to the island to re-energize. He was always happier there.

  He wondered where Tony and Andre were. They’d apologized. Sabrina, too, just before she and her crew left. Not that they really had any reason to apologize. Evidently the storm was worse than he’d thought. He should have paid more attention, checked in at first light, made sure they knew he was fine. But when they couldn’t get in touch with him, they’d had no choice but to come to his rescue. Want it or not.

  And a few more hours wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. He might have been able to tell Rachel in his own time, but it wouldn’t have made any difference in the end. She’d rounded the corner of her grief with him, but that was fated to be as far as they’d go together. At least he knew she would survive it, even if it was alone for now.

  ****

  Rachel stood in the middle of the dark living room, searching for some connection, some sense of belonging. God, had she actually lived in this place? She’d decorated and furnished this house. It had been a home to her. She knew it, but she didn’t feel it now. It looked familiar, but only as if she’d seen pictures in a magazine or book. Maybe a movie.

  On the other hand, she could close her eyes and sense the song of the jungle resonating in her heart. She could feel the muggy warmth of the air like a blanket on her skin. Even now. A thousand miles away in a different, air-conditioned lifetime and still it haunted her. She dreamed of it when she slept.

  When she dreamed of Logan.

  Anger lanced her at his name. Her eyes snapped open. No, she wouldn’t dream of him. Never again. Not even in her dreams would she give him such pleasure.

  The anger gave her the energy she needed. She hauled her luggage upstairs and unpacked, dropping her laundry down the chute. She paused, her hand on the red bikini. Jesus. She’d worn that, used her body to escape her reality, seduced men she barely knew… She remembered the Spanish kid whose name she still didn’t know, but her mind skittered away from that. She wasn’t ready to face the dark things she’d done. She was only ready to face what needed to be done now.

  ****

  Two weeks later, Rachel surveyed her living room again. Strangely, it seemed more familiar to her now than it had when she’d come home. Strange because now all the photos and mementos were gone, packed away in storage. The room was a blank slate with no hint of another life having been lived there. It might have been a display for a model home.

  How much better could it all have turned out if the people involved had been different. If she and Kevin had cried and mourned and healed together. If Angel had withstood temptation and been a true sister. If Rachel herself had been stronger in the face of adversity.

  She’d kept to herself in these two weeks. She’d packed and shipped and rearranged and ordered out a lot. She’d stayed away from old friends and acquaintances, avoided spots where she might run into someone she knew. She had resolutely kept her mind away from Logan and the Spanish kid and Logan and the island…and Logan…

  But now, faced with the moment when the doorbell would ring and her old life would come crashing down—or at least inching in—on her, she sought her memories of her “other” life. Who here would believe the things she’d done? What would they say? The realization that they would be completely shocked was oddly freeing. She’d done everything they could imagine, so what more was there to talk about?

  And Logan. She missed him with a longing that seemed almost like the pit in her soul that her baby’s loss had created. The one Logan had helped her to heal, or at least begin the healing process. But this pit was in her heart and there was no way anyone but him could heal it. And she couldn’t allow that.

  The doorbell rang and she jerked to attention, nervous again. What was the name of the agent? Dottie. Tall, blonde, loud. Kevin had suggested her when Rachel told him she wanted to sell the house and split the money. The house was in her name now, spoils of the divorce, but it didn’t feel right anymore. She didn’t need it, and she no longer cared enough to continue torturing Kevin.

  Dottie. Rachel reminded herself again as she opened the door, spilling light on the interior of the house.

  But it wasn’t Dottie. It was Angel, blinking in the sunshine. Rachel looked at her younger sister, dumbfounded, uncertain how to react to the unexpected onslaught of her past in the face of the one person she felt most betrayed by. But none of the past mattered anyway, did it? Her former disgust and anger gave way to a sense of relief accompanied by something a little sweeter that she didn’t want to face just yet.

  “I didn’t want to be married to him anymore anyway.”

  She didn’t realize she’d spoken the words out loud until Angel gave her a startled look. “Pardon?”

  Rachel flashed her a quick—and for the first time in a long while—genuine smile. “Sorry. Kevin. I didn’t want to be married to him anymore. So what you did doesn’t really matter.”

  Angel frowned. “Jesus, Rachel. I came here to make sure you were okay and you insult me first thing?”

  Rachel threw back her head and laughed. It felt good to laugh and it felt even better not to worry about what her sister would think. “I’m not trying to insult you, sis. It was just something I realized. I don’t resent you anymore. I forgive you. In fact, I’m not sure I need to forgive you. You didn’t take anything from me. I was done with him anyway.”

  Angel opened her mouth and closed it again. Then she said in a very small voice, “You make Kevin sound like a toy or a blouse or something.”

  “Maybe.” Rachel shrugged, turning and going back into the house without closing the door. Let that be her sister’s invitation to follow.

  Evidently it was enough. Angel followed, looking around the house as they passed from the foyer through the living room and into the kitchen. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Rachel searched her fridge and came up with two bottles of green tea. She set one in front of her sister and uncapped the other. “The sooner I sell it, the sooner you guys can get your own place, right?”

  Angel hesitated, then shrugged. “You seem to be into the whole brutally honest thing now, so yeah. That’s about right.”

  “Good. I’ll do everything I can.” Rachel turned away, searching the cabinets this time. She found a package of Oreos and held it up with a questioning look. At Angel’s nod, she placed the package between them and opened it.

  Angel twisted the top off her cookie and licked the creamy inside out. “Why the change of heart, though? I thought you’d never forgive us for what we did.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet her sister’s.

  She doesn’t think I should forgive her. Rachel bit into her cookie and chewed. She’d never been one to dissect her food and couldn’t understand Angel’s inability to eat an Oreo whole. “I told you, I’m not sure there’s anything to forgive anymore. My marriage wasn’t real. I’m not sure it ever was, but it definitely wasn’t by the time you and Kevin…”

  She took another bite of the cookie, only to find it stuck in her throat. She choked and reached for her tea. She lowered her gaze to the counter, concentrated on chewing and swallowing, no longer certain the words she said were true. She’d thought about them, wondered how it would feel to say them, and no
w that she was confronted by her sister, words just didn’t have the meaning she wanted them to have.

  A memory came to her of playing Barbie dolls with Angel when they were kids. She took another sip of tea, trying to swallow the lump in her throat and realized abruptly that it had nothing to do with cookies. What she was choking on was the fear of losing the girl she’d loved in her resentment of the woman.

  “Rachel?” For once, the concern in Angel’s voice didn’t grate on Rachel’s nerves. “Are you okay?”

  For answer, Rachel shook her head, raising her gaze to meet her sister’s, tears flowing down her cheeks now, the sob in her throat too much to swallow anymore. “Oh honey.” Angel rounded the counter, catching her sister in her arms. So much had passed between them, Rachel almost didn’t expect to fit in her sister’s embrace anymore, but miraculously she did and she leaned into the comfort of it with gratitude.

  It felt good to let go. Tears, sobs, all the emotions she’d denied herself when the baby died. She cried for the baby, for Angel, for herself and even the Spanish kid. And for Logan. And Angel held on through the storm. Rachel finally pulled away, kissed her sister’s cheek and went to the bathroom for a tissue. She looked at her face in the mirror and groaned. The real estate agent might be there at any moment and she was a total mess. She washed her face, deciding it didn’t matter if she met the woman without makeup on.

  Angel had resumed her seat on the barstool. She glanced over her shoulder. “I texted Dottie. Told her to give us half an hour.” She smiled a little, insecure smile. Tenuous but hopeful over the distance between them. “It’s not much time.”

  Rachel nodded. Not much time, so say what you need to say. And don’t waste this opportunity. “When the baby died…something in me died, too. I don’t know exactly what happened but I wasn’t me anymore. I’d put everything—every hope and dream I’d ever had—into that pregnancy. And when I failed at it, it…just didn’t seem to matter any more. Nothing mattered. You and Kevin and my friends…I just couldn’t be here. And then you guys—”