Again the Magic

by Lee Damon

  Ez couldn't hold it in any longer. He stepped back, sat down on the sand and roared with laughter. That set O'Mara off, and his deep bellows joined Ez's. Kitt, Midge and Gus looked bewilderedly at each other, and then at the two nearly hysterical men.

  Finally, Ez managed to gasp, "Oh, God, Kitt. For a woman who turns to jelly... at the mere thought of violence... you certainly mopped up... the beach with these two. That was... without doubt... the best straight arm and body block... I've ever seen."

  For a moment, Kitt stared at her twin in disbelief as he rocked with laughter, wiping tears away with both hands. She looked at O'Mara, scowled, threw her head back and yelled "MEN!" at the top of her lungs.

  To the rising laughter of Gus and Midge, O'Mara pulled Kitt into his arms, hugged her, contained his laughter long enough for a quick kiss, and then lifted his head to watch her growing smile. He was still chuckling and the sapphire eyes were flashing their wicked gleam when he said, just for her ears, "After this, there's no ques—"

  "Dad, Dad," Gus's frantic voice interrupted, "who's that woman?" He grabbed his father's arm, tugging him around and pointing to the top of the steps leading from the beach.

  O'Mara's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of the angry-looking brunette poised on the top step. Kitt didn't need to hear his explosive "Laura!" to know who she was.

  Everyone on the beach froze, staring at the furious woman snarling, "You bungling idiots! How could you let one stupid woman—" Her snarl ended in a startled squawk as an infuriated Kitt leaped up the steps, plucked her off her feet and started shaking her violently.

  A fresh surge of anger-induced adrenalin gave Kitt the strength to hold the smaller woman in midair with her fingers clamped tightly under her ribs. Kitt was totally beside herself with fury as she realized the appalling act this selfish, shallow woman had attempted, with callous disregard of any possible injury to Gus.

  As she shook the now-screaming woman, Kitt sounded almost like Ez as she growled. "You bitch! You miserable, nasty, rotten-minded bitch! What were you going to do to Gus? What kind of a slimy piece of nothing are you that you'd turn those gorillas loose on a child? Why don't you pick on someone your own size? I ought to—"

  "Kitt! Kitt! Let go. Come on, now, drop her."

  "Let go, love. You've scared her half witless."

  Ez and O'Mara yelled in her ears to make themselves heard while they tugged at Kitt's wrists and pried her fingers loose, finally breaking her hold on the terrified Laura. The sobbing woman dropped to the sandy path and scrabbled backward on her bottom to get well away from Kitt.

  "Keep her away from me," Laura choked, turning toward O'Mara. "She's crazy! She should be locked up." The frightened but still defiant woman struggled to her feet and backed well out of Kitt's reach, rubbing her hands over her bruised ribs and working up a fine sense of injustice. "I could have her locked up, you know. Attacking me like that. You've got a hell of a nerve, Mike, letting a woman like that loose around my son. What do you—"

  "You just shut up, you bitch!" yelled an incensed Kitt, squirming to get out of the hold Ez and O'Mara had on her arms. "And he's not your son. You never wanted him, but I do, and he's my son now." Twisting and pulling, Kitt tried to break loose. The two big men were hard put to hang onto her without bruising her, but they persisted since she still had the light of battle in her eyes. "Dammit! Will you two let go of me? I'll fix her so she won't come bothering any of us again."

  "Kitt, Kitt, settle down," Ez crooned. "You can't go beating her up. For one thing, she's smaller than you."

  "Besides that," O'Mara chimed in, "she's just not worth it. You'd get a lot more satisfaction out of seeing her marched off to jail in handcuffs, wouldn't you?" he asked with a calculating, sideways look at his seething ex-wife.

  "Jail!" screeched Laura, her anger-flushed face paling to a sickly white.

  "Good thinking," Kitt said in a normal tone, relaxing and finally becoming aware of Gus and Midge standing to one side and staring at her in pop-eyed amazement. "Hey, what's the matter with you two?"

  Gus closed his mouth and ran to her, flinging his arms around her waist in a bearhug. "Oh, Kitt," he cried, halfway between laughter and tears. "I never saw anybody get so mad. You... Was that on account of me? Knocking those men out and shaking that woman?" Kitt pulled out of the men's loosened hold and wrapped her arms around Gus, hugging him tight. "Oh, Kitt, you're going to be the best mother a guy could have! Wait till I tell the guys how you charged across that beach and dumped those gorillas on their butts. They'll never believe it!"

  "I hope you don't think you're going to spend the next fifty years trying to top that!" O'Mara chuckled in her ear.

  Suddenly exhausted, Kitt turned to look up at him and thankfully leaned against his strength as his arm came around her shoulders and he reached out with his other hand to ruffle Gus's hair.

  Laura's strident voice interrupted their moment of closeness as she demanded, "What do you mean, jail? You can't—"

  "Oh, yes, we can," O'Mara snapped. "How about attempted kidnapping for starters? Then, we can add a charge of assault and—"

  "Go to hell!" Laura screamed. "She's the one who did all the assaulting. And I can't kidnap my own kid!"

  O'Mara fixed her with an inimical stare and in a slow, deadly voice said, "You brought those two here. You hired them or bribed them to kidnap Gus. It is kidnapping, Laura, when you take a person against his or her will or, in the case of a minor, without the consent of a legal guardian. And I am Gus's legal guardian. You have no rights where he is concerned. You gave them up. You signed documents to that effect. There is not a police officer, a lawyer or a judge who would not consider this an attempted kidnapping. Those two," he pointed at the subdued men sitting meekly at Ez's feet, "and you will go to jail if I file a complaint. In fact, I doubt if I'd even have to sign a complaint in this case. Just call the police and tell them what happened here this afternoon. As for the assault charge, Midge could bring that. They attacked her. Kitt was only defending Gus and Midge from them. Do you understand, Laura?"

  White-faced, she stared at him in a mixture of fear and anger and frustration. Her eyes traveled to the tall woman standing close in the security of his arm, and then to the handsome boy who had turned in Kitt's arms to glare at her with the same inimical look that was in his father's eyes. As shallow-minded as she was, even Laura could see they were too strong for her. They were together, a cohesive unit, mutually supportive, mutually defensive. They defeated her.

  "Take your bully boys and get out of here, Laura. Don't come back. And don't send anybody else to do your dirty work for you. Any more trouble from you, and I'll find you and turn Kitt loose on you. 7 might not be able to bring myself to belt a woman, but Kitt wouldn't mind at all plucking you bald-headed and leaving you wishing you were safe in jail." For just an instant, O'Mara looked as though he might change his mind and let Kitt at her now.

  "You just keep her away from me," cried Laura, backing away. "We're going."

  "Smart move," O'Mara drawled. "I assume this was all in aid of wringing more money out of me. You can forget it. I told you you'd had all you're getting. I suggest you find a job. It's safer than messing with us."

  Ez nudged the two men with his foot, none too gently, and sent them scrambling to their feet and stumbling after Laura toward the road.

  "Come on, Midge," he said, holding out his hand to her. "Let's see them on their way." They ambled after the departing trio, Ez calling back, "See you guys up at the house."

  Kitt let out a long sigh and leaned her head back against O'Mara's shoulder. "I feel like I've been through a war. Oh," she exclaimed, straightening up and looking around, "I forgot Hero. Where is he? Is he all right, Gus?"

  "He's right behind us," said Gus, stepping out of her arms and dropping down on the sand to pat the excited dog. "I think he's okay, but he's still limping a little."

  Kitt and O'Mara knelt down beside him to examine Hero's hind leg and to run their hands ov
er the rest of his body to check for tender spots.

  "Seems okay," O'Mara said. "I think that leg is just strained. Maybe a bruise or two along his ribs, but he's not fussing too much when I touch him."

  "He's bleeding a little on his lower lip," murmured Kitt, holding Hero's head still so she could get a better look. "Must have jammed it against a tooth. Doesn't look too bad. It should heal up in a day or so."

  O'Mara stood up, half-lifting Kitt to her feet beside him. He chuckled as she groaned. "Stiffening up a bit? I should think so, love. That wasn't exactly light exercise you were indulging in. Come on, tiger lady, what you need is a session in the hot tub. I might even be coaxed into giving you a massage."

  She gave him a teasing, come-hither look and breathed, "Coaxing, coaxing, coaxing."

  "Witch! No, come this way. It's a bit long, but you won't have to climb that steep path."

  "Hmmm. About that hot tub..." Kitt murmured.

  "I thought you'd never ask," answered O'Mara, his smiling look promising her another new experience.

  They strolled off, arms around each other, trailed by Gus and Hero.

  Epilogue

  The late-August night was remarkably clear, and the long, low building glowed silver-white in the brilliant moonlight. The tall lantern-lights bordering the drives, parking lots and sidewalks were dimmed by the power of Nature's night-light. Only on the shaded veranda facing the moon-bright beach was the natural light supplanted by the soft glow from the chandeliers in the ballroom. A geometrical pattern of alternating pale yellow and black rectangles stretched the length of the veranda floor. Shadows flickered across the pale yellow patches in rhythm with the music drifting from the open French doors. Periodically, the formal pattern of light and dark was broken as couples strolled slowly down the veranda, enjoying the unseasonably warm evening—it seemed more like the middle of July than the end of August—and gazing with moon-dazzled eyes at the wide white beach and rippling silver sea.

  A young woman appeared at one of the French doors and stood quietly for a few moments admiring the view and letting the serenity of the evening relax some of her tension. With a deep sigh, wishing she could kick off her shoes and go for a long walk on the enticing beach, she turned back into the ballroom. Her eyes automatically scanned the room, checking for problems, making contact with an attendant here and there in the lounge and the anterooms. As activities director for the hotel, she was responsible for the planning and smooth functioning of this high point of the summer, the End-of-Season Ball. It was a long-established tradition, and was always well attended by both hotel guests and local residents. She watched the couples moving gracefully over the polished floor to the tune of a slow waltz. It was a good crowd, older, the few young people were well behaved and seemed to be enjoying the traditional ballroom dancing. There were a number of familiar faces—perennial guests, regular visitors from the surrounding area, and several who were generally well known to the public for one reason or another.

  Purposely searching now, her eyes roved over the dancers until she spotted the lieutenant governor and his wife. Good. They looked happy enough. Her gaze was caught by the congresswoman who, with her husband, was occupying the best suite. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but her husband was about one drink away from tripping over his own feet, not that he was all that graceful to begin with. Not like that one, she thought. Now there is a man I would not mind at all directing in a few activities. Except that I doubt if his very handsome wife would put up with it for a minute. Come to that, I can't imagine him looking at anyone else. I haven't seen one of them without the other all week, and most of the time they don't even seem to know anyone else is around. Yike! Just look at that smile. Wonder what she said to him. Lordy, if a man ever smiled at me like that, I'd never let him out of my sight again.

  "O'Mara. Darling beast. Oh, you wretched tease, if you don't get your sneaky fingers out of there, you're going to disgrace us both!" Kitt's attempt at indignant protest collapsed into a knowing chuckle under his blatantly sensual smile. She could feel her nipples hardening as the backs of his long fingers, tucked under the edge of her halter, stroked the outer curve of her breast.

  "Mmmmm, but you're so tempting, my Kitt," he whispered in her ear, flicking his tongue around the rim and then turning his head to look into the smoky blue eyes that were promising retaliation.

  "If I were not a proper married lady..." Her voice trailed off in a teasing threat and the wide mouth curved with delightful purpose as she shifted her hips slightly, and on the next step pressed one firm, slender thigh between his.

  "Witch," he groaned, his arm tightening around her waist to hold her in place. "It's a good thing that skirt is full."

  "And the lights are dim," she murmured, laughing softly.

  She nestled her cheek against his and moved her arm further around his neck. "You," she whispered, "are in a very sexy mood tonight."

  "I'm always in a sexy mood with you," he whispered back, "or have you forgotten some of the places... and times... we've made love?" His feathering kisses along the sensi- five skin in front of her ear were sending the familiar moth wings fluttering in her belly, while the vivid memory of certain of their passionate encounters heated her cheeks. His low chuckle told her plainer than words that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She smiled to herself at the knowledge that she was doing the same thing to him.

  They didn't talk during the remainder of the waltz. Totally aware of each other's arousal, they silently agreed, in their special form of communication, to keep their fire turned low for a while longer. Kitt moved her arm back to curve around his shoulder, her fingers resting lightly on the silk of his midnight-blue dinner jacket. Relaxing the tension of his tight hold, O'Mara slowly stroked his warm hand over her bare back. It was a gentling touch rather than one of arousal, and the looks they exchanged were a mixture of understanding and promise. The music swept to its climax, and they turned to walk the length of the room, arms loosely around each other, to their table in the lounge. They were completely unaware of the number of admiring and envious eyes that watched their progress.

  The pretty activities director, paralleling their course toward the lounge, watched them with a longing envy, wishing she could meet a man who could bring that certain look to her face. She still found it hard to believe that he was Michael Talbot. Somehow, a best-selling author should be older and shorter and maybe balding, she mused, not tall, dark and possessing the wickedest blue eyes she'd ever seen. She sighed resignedly over the fact that his flashing blue glances were all directed at his wife. Pausing at the entrance to the lounge, she studied the tall, exotic-looking Mrs. O'Mara and decided that it was easy enough to see what attracted him. They are really something special, she thought, and if they had the idea that using the name O'Mara was going to make them less conspicuous, then they've obviously never seen themselves together in a mirror! I wonder if they have kids. If they do, I'll bet they're handsome.

  "Another glass of wine?" At Kitt's nod, O'Mara beckoned to a waiter and ordered two glasses of white wine. He shifted his chair closer to hers and reached for her hand. "Are you enjoying your surprise, love?"

  "It's marvelous, and you are still the most devious man I know!" she said, laughing and squeezing his hand. "And I fell for it. Why did I believe your agent wanted to meet me? Does he have a place on Cape Cod?"

  "Of course not." O'Mara chuckled. "Why ever would he want a place on the Cape when he's got a perfectly lovely summer home on Long Island? But I had to have some excuse for getting you down here, alone and unencumbered by kids. Incidentally, Mai does want to meet you, and I'm taking you to New York with me next month when I go down to sign the contracts for the film sale."

  "The third one in a row," she mused, "and they've taken an option on your next one before you've even started it!"

  "Don't complain," he said with a teasing grin. "If you keep having babies in pairs, we're going to need the money!"

  "Please," she groaned, "The
twins are only four months old. I don't want to think about going through all that again for a while longer."

  His gaze sharpened and he examined her face intently before catching the twinkle in her eye. Still, he didn't smile when he asked, "Are you sure you're not sorry you got pregnant so soon? We could have waited a bit." Then the slow smile came as he added, "Although I have to admit it's done very nice things for your figure."

  "Tomcat." She wrinkled her nose at him. "If you're trying to tell me that I'm coming out of the top of this dress..."

  "Not quite, but you are definitely filling it out more than you did when I gave it to you." His eyes gleamed appreciatively as they lingered on the taut material over her breasts. "At least, now, you've stopped fussing about being too small. And, no, you still don't need a bra. I thought we ended that argument over a year ago."

  She laughed at him and then let her gaze drift over the lounge, pausing on the wide archway to watch the dancers swirling around the ballroom. Sighing contentedly, she brought her eyes back to the long, lean figure lounging comfortably next to her. "You really are quite sly, O'Mara." It was still her favorite term of endearment. "Not only did you sneak this dress into your bag when I wasn't looking, but you've even come up with an outfit that's almost a duplicate of that first one." She ran calculating eyes over the deep blue silk tux and the pale lemon silk shirt. "I must say, this one fits you better. Tailor-made, I bet. Hmmm? I thought so. You really have been pussy-footing around behind my back." There was a tease in her voice and her smile. "How long have you been plotting all this?"