Wild Nights

by Katherine Garbera

  Fair enough, he thought. They were strangers, but tequila could change that. Was he making a colossal mistake? Of course he was.

  Did he care?

  The police station lead had been a bust. The shipment had been full of knockoffs that weren’t anywhere near the quality of his chest. So he still needed to see the one she’d purchased. But he wanted more than that.

  He wanted the woman.

  Zelda.

  Even her name seemed magical. And, well, he couldn’t deny the sexual energy that flowed through him every time he thought about her.

  “Uh, yeah, I was just getting started when you arrived,” she said. “Since you’re here, can you grab two shot glasses.”

  She gestured to a cabinet, and he easily reached them as she took a lime from the bowl on the counter and sliced it up. She took the cutting board with the limes to the table, and he picked up the bottle and followed her. She went back for the salt and the chair, but he took it from her, easily hefting it and setting it down at the small table that was nestled into the nook.

  “Thanks.”

  “I was raised to be a gentleman.” It had been his grandfather’s belief that no one resented being treated with kindness and good manners.

  “You were?” she asked, sitting down on one side of the table. He took a seat opposite her.

  “Yeah,” he said. “So, are we just doing shots?”

  “I wasn’t planning on anything else,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Twenty questions.” Twenty questions? What was he thinking? Leo would be shaking his head if he saw him right now. But he didn’t care. He hadn’t met a woman who affected him this deeply since Jade. He wasn’t going to lie about it—Zelda intrigued him.

  “Okay. Are you sure about this?” she asked. “You might not want to answer mine.”

  “Fair enough. Every time one of us wants to skip a question, we take a shot,” he said.

  “How about we set a limit? You can only skip one out of three questions?” she suggested.

  Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. She had a direct way of looking at him that made it seem as if she could see through him. But he knew she couldn’t. He knew what kind of illusions to use to protect himself.

  He nodded. “Okay then. So, are you game?”

  She tipped her head to the side, studying him, and he couldn’t help noticing the way her long red hair fell across her shoulder to curve on the upper slope of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her T-shirt, and he knew he should look away, but he couldn’t.

  He wanted to believe she was as guileless as she appeared to be. It was a little scary how much he wanted that. But he simply smiled at her, looking forward to this. He was already thinking up questions he shouldn’t ask, just to see how she’d react.

  He realized this moment was a unique one. They both liked each other but could easily walk away if things got too dicey. This drinking game was his chance to find out the stuff she might hide later.

  “I guess you’ll have to ask me something and see,” she said.

  …

  She wasn’t sure how she’d ended up with Nicholas in her small kitchen, but she liked it. Maybe fate was giving her a gift on the other side of her table. It sure felt like a big sign. She hadn’t read her tarot cards lately—maybe it was time to do it again, see what influences were governing her world right now.

  He leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest. Because he wore his shirts fitted, she could see the bulging muscles of his pecs and upper arms. That turned her on. Upper body strength had always been irresistible to her. She didn’t bother to dissect it. She just liked men who were built, and who cared why.

  She should have suggested truth or dare so she could ask him to take his shirt off. She had seen pictures online of him wearing only chains and a pair of tight leather pants, and she’d had to take a moment to cool down even though she’d thought the muscles had been air-brushed… Were they?

  “Would you like to do that?” he asked.

  She shook her head. What was he talking about? Hell’s bells, she couldn’t allow herself to get distracted…well, more than she already was.

  “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “That we could start with easy questions,” he said, arching one eyebrow at her.

  “Oh, yeah, sure. That sounds good,” she said. “Are you going first?”

  “I will,” he said. “Did you grow up in the Vegas area?”

  She smiled over at him. This was easy. “No.”

  “Are we doing just one-word answers?”

  “Is that your second question?” she asked.

  “No, it’s not,” he said firmly.

  She smiled at him. “I grew up on the east coast. My family had a place in Boca Raton and in Maine. What about you?”

  “I was raised here, near Vegas. My grandparents raised me. Um, I was adopted but didn’t know that until after they passed. They lost their own son when he was forty years old, and so they adopted me.”

  “Wow. How did you find out?”

  “They died when I was sixteen. My guardian was ticked off that I had inherited everything and told me one day.”

  “That sucks,” she said.

  “It does. What about your family? Any dark secrets lurking around?” he asked.

  “I’ll pass,” she said. No way was she getting into that with him. She licked the back of her hand and shook some salt on it before taking the shot that he poured. She followed a lick of the salt with a gulp of tequila, which burned going down, and then hit it with a bite of lime. She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.

  “So, your family is a no-go area?” he asked. “You sort of seem like Little Miss Sunshine. I mean, when you aren’t accusing me of being a stalker. What could you have to hide?” he asked with a slight smile on his lips.

  “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” she said with a wink.

  He just shook his head, laughing. “Fair enough.”

  “What’s the secret to the newest illusion in your upcoming show?” she asked.

  “I can’t reveal that,” he said.

  “Drink up, then,” she said, thinking it was a good idea if he drank when she did so she didn’t end up doing her drunk thing and sleeping with a guy she found attractive.

  She groaned as he licked the back of his hand and tipped the salt shaker over it. His gazed locked on hers, and something electric passed between them. He licked his hand again, and even though there was no way she could feel it on her skin, she sighed as he lifted his shot glass and slowly tipped the pale gold liquid into his mouth. He swallowed and then followed it with a squeeze of lime. She licked her lips. God, he was hot.

  She made up her mind to ask him easier questions. No more playing around with this man. If she watched him do another shot, she’d be tempted to straddle him and let him lick the salt off of her.

  She bit back a moan and it came out as a squeak, and he looked over at her. “Sorry. Sometimes tequila makes my throat achy.”

  What the heck? She sounded like a lunatic.

  “My turn, I believe. Why do you sell magic antiques?” he asked.

  Of course he would keep asking about magic. She shook her head. “It seemed like a good fit for Vegas.”

  One little white lie that was sort of the truth. Now she was lying to herself.

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “How did you get into doing magic?” she asked.

  “My grandfather. He showed me tricks, and we’d put shows on for my grandmother, who liked them. She was bedridden. It was fun for me, and it made her laugh, which was nice for all of us.”

  “That’s so sweet,” she said.

  “Is it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said,
trying to picture a young Nicholas earnestly standing in front of his grandmother’s bed to show her his latest trick.

  “What was your childhood like?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. Did she dare answer this? But there were other things she could talk about. “I think I’ll take another shot.”

  “The mystery deepens. What are you hiding, Zelda?”

  She just did her shot and shook her head. “Why did you decide to open a casino?”

  “I was tired of travelling around all the time, and my friends were ready to come home as well,” he said.

  Over the next half hour, they both learned a lot about each other. She learned that he wouldn’t reveal the sigil tattoo’s meaning, and he had to take a second shot. They both loved country music, karaoke, and watching the sunrise. Both of them declined to talk about their first time, which she’d asked him about after he’d done his second shot, seeing if the alcohol had loosened his inhibitions.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  She was feeling a bit tipsy herself and wasn’t shy at all now. She wanted him naked or at least half naked. She wanted to know if those muscles she’d seen flexing under his shirt were as hard as she imagined.

  “Would you take off your shirt?”

  Chapter Four

  Four shots of tequila with the redhead—and his idea of keeping things within sane limits blown to hell—and he was ready to do whatever she asked. But he’d never been the kind of man who was afraid to take a risk. “Okay.”

  Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected him to agree, but he’d spent a good chunk of his life shirtless, so it never bothered him. But the showman in him refused to just sit there and take it off. Instead, he stood up, stepping away from the table so that she had a clear line of sight to him.

  Then he started by undoing the cuffs of his button-down shirt.

  She turned her chair for a better view, stretching her bare legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles. He noticed her toenails were painted a deep shade of red. She crossed her arms under her breasts, which just made the fabric of her sleep shirt pull taut over her chest. He forced his eyes higher, locking gazes with her. Her brown eyes seemed shot with gold, and honestly, he’d spent way too much time tonight trying to come up with the right word to describe them. They weren’t hazel, weren’t brown, but something that was uniquely Zelda.

  He reached for the first button on his shirt and felt his fingers brush his silver medallion. It was a coin that his grandmother had given to him when he’d turned thirteen, and his granddad had had it made into a charm. He slowly continued to undo his buttons, watching her watch him the whole time. She might have picked a casual pose, but he noticed the way she leaned forward as each button revealed more of his skin.

  He finally had the last button undone and stood there for a minute in front of her. “Is this enough?”

  She shook her head. “Uh, no way.”

  He almost smiled, feeling turned on but also just enjoying this unexpected night.

  He tugged at the cuff of his right sleeve and drew the shirt down and then off. Hearing her gasp, he glanced up to see her biting her lower lip.

  “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be even better-looking than your posters.”

  “Am I?”

  “Hell’s bells,” she said. “I half expected that the images I’d seen of you online were airbrushed. But damn, boy, you are ripped.”

  He did smile at that, starting to feel a little self-conscious. He put his hand low on his abdomen. “Did you Google me?”

  “Yes. I’m not going to deny it. I searched the heck out of your name. I needed to know exactly who you were.”

  “What did you think?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. You do seem to be very good at fooling people, which makes me wonder if I can trust anything I see with you,” she said.

  Her honesty surprised him, but he knew it shouldn’t have. Zelda wasn’t like other people. There was a quirkiness to her that he found irresistible…which was probably the reason he was standing shirtless in her kitchen.

  He spread his arms wide and turned around. “I have nothing up my sleeve.”

  “Well, I guess that puts me in my place,” she said.

  He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling a bit exposed. It was silly, really, given how much time he spent shirtless, but that was onstage, just part of the show. But in the close confines of her kitchen, with her watching him… It felt different. Intimate.

  He could see desire in her eyes, but that was easy to read. From the time he’d been seventeen, women had wanted him, and he’d learned that had been an easy way to not feel lonely. At seventeen, that had been fine. At thirty, he knew it for the illusion it was. He’d still be lonely when he woke up. These days, he was a lot choosier about who he took to his bed.

  Zelda with her chocolaty brown eyes, winsome smile, and red hair definitely set him on fire, but there was more. Would sex help or hinder in his need to uncover the mystery of Zelda Quincy?

  He could hear Dare’s voice in his head, calling him a pussy for not sleeping with her.

  But he wanted more than one night with this woman.

  “You’re staring at me.”

  “I know,” he said. He had to stop overanalyzing this. She’d specifically said she wasn’t sure she could trust him but she hadn’t mentioned her own trust-worthiness. “Why didn’t you tell me that I could trust you?”

  He sat back down across the table from her, pulling the tequila closer and taking another shot because he wanted to. He hadn’t meant to let things get this personal. But tequila.

  “Would you have believed me?” she asked.

  “Answering a question with a question… Very evasive, Zelda. What are you trying to hide?” he asked.

  “I’ll take a shot,” she said, doing just that.

  Hmm. So she was hiding something and not about to pretend she wasn’t. Knowing that, could he go forward with this attraction? Would that be enough to insulate him from disappointment later?

  When had sex gotten so complicated? But he knew that after Jade, he’d changed. Being betrayed by his lover had cut him deeper than he’d wanted to admit. She’d left plenty of scars.

  When he was twenty-five, Nicholas had been enjoying some real success as a double act with Jade Simmons. Leo and Nicholas had designed all of the illusions and stunts themselves, and a television producer had come on board to produce a show featuring their act. Jade and Nicholas had always alternated doing the illusions.

  Their illusions were very different—the sheer physicality of the stunts that Nicholas performed was impossible for Jade to replicate. He thought they made a good team. So when the TV producer had made a play for Jade, Nicholas had seen red and wanted to break the contract. But Jade had assured him it was nothing.

  That was why Leo and Nicholas had both been surprised when the contract was canceled and they learned that Jade was doing her own show. She’d been blunt, telling Nicholas that she couldn’t miss her big break. And he’d just let her go, even though it meant starting over from scratch.

  He’d vowed to never let a woman do that to him again. And he’d never met a woman who affected him the way Jade had until now. Until Zelda.

  Could he have her and just keep it about sex?

  “What are you thinking?” she asked. “Don’t get me wrong. The way you keep looking at me is a turn-on, but it’s also a little unnerving.”

  …

  She hadn’t meant to be so blunt and wanted to blame it on the tequila, but honestly, she thought it might be more about Nicholas than the booze. His bright blue eyes had mesmerized her the moment she’d gotten close enough to see them. There wasn’t an easy way to explain how he made her feel, but that didn’t bother her. He was different.

  He’d proven it tonight when he’d tak
en the time to come and leave something for Stetson. He owed them nothing. Not her nor her friends, and yet he’d come. There was more to him than met the eye, but what? And why had he come into her life now?

  She’d known the Houdini water chest was an omen. She never apologized for the feeling she had in her gut. When she’d seen it for sale, it had almost jumped out at her. She had to have it. She hadn’t understood why in that moment, and she still didn’t, but it had led Nicholas to her.

  There had to be more between them than just this red-hot attraction. Still, she wasn’t about to drop her guard—the secrets in her past were big ones. She knew she had some karma to make right and was always looking for the universe to send her a sign.

  She liked the way this Nicholas Pine sign looked.

  “Sex.”

  “Huh?” She’d literally been staring at his pecs and thinking about how those big biceps would feel under her fingers as he moved over her.

  “You asked what I was thinking about,” he explained. Then he arched one eyebrow at her. “What are you thinking about?”

  “You. On top of me,” she said, then put her hand over her mouth. Damn tequila. “Sorry. I mean I was thinking that, but I would never have said it out loud. Too many shots,” she said.

  She took the bottle and stood up, grabbing her chair to drag it behind her across the kitchen, but Nicholas was there, putting his hand over hers. “I’ll put it up for you. But for the record, I’m glad you were honest. I’m not a fan of people who don’t say what they mean.”

  She had leaned back against the table to have the best view as he moved across the kitchen to the cabinet above the stove. He stretched to reach it, and the muscles on his back rippled as he placed the tequila on the shelf and pushed it to the back. His pants slid lower on his hips as he stretched, and she was staring at his butt when he turned around.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Very much,” she said. “You do not disappoint, Mr. Pine.”

  “Happy to oblige,” he said, leaning back against the counter half a room away, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She was halfway to him when she realized what she was doing.