Again the Magic

by Lee Damon

  "Good cook," said Ez, buttering a muffin thick with blueberries.

  "All the baked stuff is made here," Midge explained.

  "This omelette is super," Kitt murmured. "So are the potatoes. Ez! Don't pig the ham. Let me try some. Ummm. Mustard."

  O'Mara watched her enjoyment with a fond smile. "This is the best place for breakfast for miles around." He eyed Midge's plate and asked off-handedly, "Is that a sausage omelette? How is it?"

  "Scrumptious. But I'll never finish it all." She looked up at him hesitantly. No matter what Ez and Kitt called him, she was very much aware that this incredibly sexy and famous man who seemed to want to share her breakfast was actually the Michael Talbot. A quick glance around showed her that no one had left the restaurant; they all seemed to be held enthralled by the four people at the window table. She looked back at O'Mara's questioning expression and offered, "Would you like some of it?"

  "Thought you'd never ask." His warm smile flashed white against his early tan as he held his plate out to Midge.

  "What about me?" Ez asked plaintively.

  "If you eat any more, old son, you'll flatten every tire on your wagon," teased O'Mara. "Kitt, grab that last muffin before he gets it. We'll split it. Do you want some, Midge?"

  "Uh-uh. I'm stuffed. We've got Friday night taken care of, but what about the rest of the weekend? There's a really good theater company doing The Taming of the Shrew at the Civic Center in Portland on Saturday evening. How about that?"

  "Sounds good," said Ez, splitting a villainous look between Midge and Kitt. "We might pick up some useful ideas, don't you think, O'Mara?"

  The bright blue eyes flashed an amused look at a scowling Kitt, then flicked to a bristling Midge before returning to Ez's anticipatory expression. "No comment. You can easily hold that one at arm's length where she can't do any damage, but this one is definitely a challenge to control without acquiring dents, bruises and a lump or two. Feisty, both of them, but a gentle hand on the reins—"

  Kitt and Midge groaned in unison and muttered "Chauvinists!" in identically disgusted tones.

  Still grinning, O'Mara turned around to locate the waitress and signal for more coffee. Unobtrusively, he noted the interested observers and deliberately let his voice out as he turned back to the table and said, "That takes care of Friday and Saturday evenings, and Sunday we'll have a cookout at my place."

  He might as well have dropped a bomb in the middle of the room. As friendly and unassuming as Michael Talbot was with the townsfolk, it was widely known that he guarded his privacy, and only close friends were invited to his home on Crest Rock. He met Midge's stunned gaze and winked at her.

  "Oh, wow," she breathed. "Wait till my sister Angie hears this."

  Shaking his head at her dazed expression, Ez said to O'Mara, "You really must explain this dumbstruck awe that you seem to inspire in the female population around here."

  O'Mara laughed and slanted a look at Kitt. "I'd like to see the day I inspire awe in this one." Turning to Ez, he continued, "Next weekend, while the girls are working, we'll have an enlightening discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of fame and fortune."

  "Sounds promising, but if I don't get a move on, I'm going to be late."

  Midge, Kitt and O'Mara waved Ez off outside the restaurant and then walked the short distance to the shop. After they left the restaurant, Ez had capped their virtuoso performance by picking Midge up, in front of the wide window in full view of their audience, and kissing her long and thoroughly. Since she was still a bit unsteady on her feet, Kitt and O'Mara tucked her in between them and guided her steps in the right direction.

  "Love this square," commented Kitt, looking around at the buildings. "Such a wild mix of styles, from eighteenth-century no-nonsense to Victorian kitsch to a twentieth-century brick block, and everything in between. I really must take time to go through some of those books on local history."

  "Not any of my time," O'Mara stated firmly. "We've got too much catching up to do. However, you can make a start this evening because I've got a long-standing commitment to speak to a literary club in Portland, and these things usually drag on forever."

  "Much as I like your company, I won't pine for you tonight. I'm going to bed early to catch up on my sleep."

  "We could shift off today, and each get a nap," Midge piped up hopefully.

  "Don't put temptation in my way," Kitt groaned. "You know what a mess we left the shop in last night. And we've got to get that order ready for me to take to Portsmouth. Oh, drat! I forgot to ask Ez if he could leave the wagon here next weekend and take my car back with him."

  "What do you need the wagon for?" O'Mara asked.

  "Next week is the first week of the month, and piles of new releases will be out. I've got to pick up a stock of them, together with backlist stock, from the distributor in Portsmouth. There's no way all that will fit in my Camaro."

  They crunched across the parking lot and waited while Kitt unlocked the shop door. O'Mara trailed Kitt and Midge inside. Midge promptly busied herself in the back, leaving the couple alone. "Listen, love, there's no way I want you to be heaving around cartons of books, either. Can't you go this week? I could borrow a van or a trailer and go with you."

  "I'd still have to go back next week. Over half of what we need, the current stuff, won't be in the warehouse until then. Can't you—Oh, I forgot. Your European trip. When do you leave?"

  "Next Tuesday. A week from tomorrow. So don't make plans for any evenings this week. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I leave. That's going to be a long couple of weeks."

  "I thought you said you'd be gone two and a half weeks."

  "Not if I can help it. It depends on how long it takes me to track down three of the people I want to see. They tend to move around a lot and keep low profiles."

  "Until you explained the background of this new book last night, I never realized how involved research could be. I wish—" She broke off, biting her lip and looking at him longingly. Part of her wanted to tease him into putting off the trip; after twelve years apart, she didn't want to lose another day of being with him, talking with him, touching him and, most of all, continuing the progress they were obviously making in overcoming her fear of his touch. Sliding her hands under the edge of his sweater, she pressed her palms and wide-spread fingers over the warm, smooth skin at his waist, watching the quick flare of desire flash in his eyes. She sensed that if she asked, he'd change his plans, and she swayed toward him, her mouth lifting to touch his, the words "Don't go" on her lips.

  She didn't say them. The pressure of his mouth stopped them, and then she forgot them as she seemed to forget everything when he kissed her. His hands resting lightly on her shoulders gently urged her closer, and she pressed her suddenly taut breasts against his chest, opening her mouth to his softly probing tongue and sliding her hands around to his back, feeling the tremors shivering through him in reaction to her touch.

  Revelation hit her with the impact of a Force-Ten gale, sweeping every other thought out of her head. I have as much power over him as he has over me. At the moment, maybe more. Slowly, hesitantly, she moved her head back, gradually breaking the kiss, and looked at him, reading the need and passion in his face and eyes.

  "Kitt? What is it?"

  "I—" She dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Just wait a minute, please."

  "All right, love. Take your time." Stroking soothing hands back and forth across her shoulders, he stood relaxed, taking some of her weight as she leaned lightly against him.

  The thoughts jumbled through her mind, and she strove desperately to sort them out and make sense of this new knowledge. Except this shouldn't come as such a surprise. It's been perfectly obvious thai I excite him. I know how much control... well, not know, exactly... more like I've sensed that he's been clamping an iron hold over his passion and trying to keep his physical arousal under control. He's afraid of scaring me, but it's gotten away from him a couple of times. Last night a
nd this morning. But he's been so careful that I just didn't realize how strong his reaction to me is. I could feel it, really feel it, just then. That same fire jolting through him that I feel when he touches me. Why didn't I know that? After that incredible oneness that we experienced on the beach, I should have known... but he's so much more... what?... self-confident, surer of himself as a man, stronger... than he used to be... but he was always sure of himself... and strong... now he really knows who and what he is. It fooled me. So strong, I never realized that I could send him up in flames just as fast as he does it to me. Can I?

  She didn't think about it any longer, just followed her instincts. Turning her head, she nibbled kisses up the side of his neck as she took half a step forward and brought the rest of her body, from thigh to belly, tight against his. He wasn't expecting it and had no time to control his reaction. Before she could draw in her breath, his hands were curving over her buttocks, pulling her hips into the surge of his groin.

  "My God! What are you doing?" The deep groan in her ear vibrated through her, shocking her to awareness, and she jerked away from him to stand, hands clapped over her mouth, staring at him in wide-eyed dismay. Oh, dear God. Did I really do that? I couldn't have! She watched him fight for control, his head bent, hands clasped around his neck, a long, shuddering breath rasping through his chest.

  After what seemed like an hour, but was only a minute or two, his head came up and his questioning eyes met her half-fearful ones. "Don't look so scared, love. I'm perfectly all right and not the least bit upset. Just curious." He tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans and shifted his weight to stand hip-shot and relaxed. "You took me completely by surprise, or I would have had better control."

  "It's not... I'm not scared. At least, not by anything you did. It's just... I don't believe I did that. I just realized that... oh, it sounds so... something... to say it straight out."

  "Never mind what it sounds like. Tell me."

  "It sounds dumb and stupid. I can't believe I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't realize how you felt. But... it just came to me when you were kissing me that I could... what is it the kids say? Light your fire?... just as you do to me. Each time you've kissed me, you've been keeping so much control over yourself, right from the beginning, that it seemed to take you even longer than it did me to... well, I just hadn't understood that—" She stumbled to a stop and looked at him with troubled eyes.

  "Silly wench." The tension started to leave her face as he smiled at her. "Lest there be any further doubts in your sometimes fuzzy head, let me assure you that you don't have to go to all those lengths to find out how much I want you or how quickly I react to you. If I hadn't been sitting down in the restaurant when you gave me that very sexy, how-soon-can- we-find-a-bed smile, I'd have embarrassed both of us. Haven't you had any idea of the agony I've been suffering trying to keep a lid on all my natural instincts and needs where you're concerned?"

  "I... I sensed some of it, but I guess I've been so busy worrying about my own reactions and not being able to be—Oh, damn. I love you so much, and I should have known what was happening with you."

  He closed the distance between them and took her hands, raising them to kiss one and then the other before sliding them around his neck. Holding her eyes with his, he lightly traced his fingers down her arms, over her ribs, and brought them to rest on her hips.

  "Your eyes have dark smudges, and you're too tired to think straight. You've got the rest of the day to get through, and this is no time to start an in-depth analysis of our emotional states or anything else. Mmmm. I like that. Feels good. Since you like playing with my hair so much, isn't it lucky I've got all this far all over me? As I recall, you always did have a thing about it."

  "I used to wonder—"

  "No!" He cut her off abruptly, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't tell me now. Save it for when you can show me what you used to wonder. At the moment, I couldn't cope with your erotic imaginings. Oh, love, are you blushing? There's nothing wrong with that—just as long as I'm the one you're dreaming about."

  "O'Mara...." Her voice was a husky, pleading whisper, and she pulled his head down so she could reach his mouth.

  "No more now, love." His voice was muffled against her mouth, his words interspersed with quick, light kisses. "If we don't... stop this... your early customers... are going to... get the shock of their... lives when... they walk in that door."

  "I don't care."

  "Kitt!" Laughing, he pulled her arms down and held her away from him. "Behave yourself, Griselda, or I'll turn back into a toad. Damn, look at the time. I've got to get back to the house and make some phone calls. If I don't try the overseas ones before noon, I'll miss their afternoon office hours."

  "Okay," she sighed. "If you've got to go, I suppose I can manage. But just barely. If you have to go to Portland this evening, when am I going to see you?"

  He started walking toward the door with her, one arm draped loosely around her shoulders. "I'll probably be late getting back, so I won't see you until sometime tomorrow. I'll call you in the morning. No, wait. You take Hero for a run early on, don't you? What time? I'll try to go with you."

  "Seven? Eight? What's comfortable for you?"

  "Somewhere in there. Can you just wait until I get here?"

  "Sure. With a pot of coffee?"

  "Sounds good." He glanced back over the shop, a slight frown between his eyes. "Where's Midge? I should at least say goodbye."

  "Probably curled up in a comer somewhere, asleep." Kitt chuckled. "I'll pass it along."

  Opening the door with his free hand, he pulled her close with the arm around her shoulders and kissed her briefly.

  "O'Mara...." It was a protest, asking for more.

  "Not now, you witch, or I'll never get out of here. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

  Chapter 13

  Kitt stacked the last of the dishes in the drainer and tipped the sudsy water out of the small dishpan, rinsed it and leaned it upside-down against the side of the sink to dry. Yawning and stretching, she padded barefoot across the kitchen and into the living room. She wandered aimlessly over to the window-wall and stood, hands tucked into the back pockets of her navy cord jeans, watching the boats surging upriver to their docks and moorings.

  She was tired. The day had seemed to drag on forever, and that, she thought, undoubtedly had a great deal to do with the fact that she wouldn't see O'Mara tonight. She and Midge had spent a couple of hours putting the shop back together, and then worked halfheartedly through the afternoon on the stock order. Fortunately, it had been a slow day for customers. Not that I welcome the lack of income, she mused, but neither of us was in top form for answering questions intelligently.

  The movement of the water, glittering and flashing in the light from the lowering sun, was hypnotic, and she tore her eyes away from the river to scan the evening sky. Should be a great sunset, she decided. Those clouds feathering across the western sky are going to pick up lots of color, and there'll be a lovely reflection on the ones overhead and to the southeast. I should be comfortable enough on the deck with my heavy jacket... another cup of coffee... boots.

  Trailed by Hero, she detoured through the kitchen to put the kettle on and then started hunting for her fleece-lined ankle boots, first in her bedroom and then back to the hall closet, finally locating them under the sofa.

  "I wish you could tell one pair of footgear from another, Hero. It would save me enormous amounts of time if I could just send you to find these things. No. Let go, beast. This is not a game, and that's not your shoe. Yours is under my bed."

  Still sitting on the floor by the sofa, she pulled the boots on over her bare feet, elbowing a playful Hero out of her way. She glanced out the window at the sky and, noting touches of color on the clouds, rose to her feet and hurriedly fixed a mug of instant decaffeinated coffee, grabbed her sheepskin-lined suede jacket from the closet and dragged a captain's chair out to the deck. By t
he time she was settled with her feet up on the railing and the warm mug cradled in her hands, the first fragile colors of the sunset were just beginning to tint the clouds.

  With a warning "Mewf," Hero jumped into her lap and stretched out along her legs. Kitt automatically stroked one hand along his back, her eyes and attention fixed on the gradually changing colors in the sky. More clouds had appeared, and now there was a rising broken band of them spreading in an arc from east to south, glowing rose and pale pink from the reflection of the setting sun. Her head tipped back as she followed the drift of clouds across the dome of the sky, the pinks shading to lavender where the clouds were wispy against the blue background until, high in the western sky, the wash of pale lemon began. It brightened and intensified to deep yellow and glowing gold as her eyes scanned down the plumy clouds to where their lower edges blazed with a molten, white-gold fire.

  Flickering light caught her attention, and she dropped her eyes to the river, now a swift, shimmering rush of blazing orange. It drew her gaze back to its origin in the west, and she watched the deepening flames of color spread upward, lightening to peach and rose-gold in the eastern and southern skies. Suddenly, the very air around her turned pale peach, and she looked from side to side to find that the immediate world was lit with an intense, pale gold glow. It created an otherworldly feeling, distorting the normal perception of color and distance, fuzzing sharp edges and changing the familiar shapes of trees and fences into something dimly seen in a dream.

  Enchanted, Kitt gazed around at what seemed to be a fairy-tale land, hushed and waiting under a spell, its eerie silence unbroken even by the usual screaming of the gulls. After long minutes, the light started to fade through all the pastel shades of orange and yellow until it was gone and, with what almost seemed to be a jolt, the world returned to its proper dimensions and colors.