by Amber Carew
A stack of magazines stood on the table beside him. He held a pen in his hand and marked steadily on the page.
She waited for him to notice her, but long moments went by and he didn’t. She cleared her throat, thinking maybe he just hadn’t noticed her come in. No reaction.
"Dinner will be ready in about an hour," she said.
He nodded, but didn’t look up.
What was he doing? And why had a magazine suddenly become much more interesting than her?
Merlin leaped onto one arm of the chair then nudged his hand, and Nyte absently pet him. The cat stretched the length of the armrest and watched Nyte’s pen move across the page.
This was ridiculous. She had tons of things she should be doing. All afternoon she’d been wishing she had time to herself so she could get some things done, and now, with Nyte happily occupied, she could go do them.
The special web page she’d been designing came to mind. She had been trying to figure out how to advertise her services without having witch-hunting fanatics try and close her down. She’d come up with the idea of setting up a home page on the Internet with a spell that would allow access only to believers. She still had work to do on that, and she’d been meaning to get to it for weeks now.
She pushed herself to her feet, intending to sit down at the desk and turn on her computer, but instead she found herself staring over Nyte’s shoulder. It looked like "City Woman" magazine on his lap. She leaned against the side of the chair, aware of his broad shoulder within inches of her and the way he had pushed his long hair back over his ear. Would it feel silky under her fingers?
"What are you doing?" she asked.
He finished jotting something with the pen, then snapped the magazine closed and stared at her with a satisfied smile.
"Lucinda, I know you’re fighting the belief that you and I are meant to be together, but now I have proof."
"Proof?" What in heavens name was he talking about? "What kind of proof?"
He held up the magazine and pointed to the cover, where the words, ‘Is your relationship the happily-ever-after kind?’ were written in large black letters, along with several other teasers. In smaller letters below, it said, ‘Take our quiz and find out.’
She stared at the magazine, wondering if this was a joke. When she shifted her gaze to his face, however, she could see he was quite serious.
"Nyte, the quizzes in these magazines, they’re not really--"
"I can see you’re going to fight this, too, but I have used your own literature to come up with incontrovertible proof of our rightness."
Literature? Man, she really had to set him straight.
He thumped the magazine on his knee in emphasis. "You can’t ignore this, Lucinda."
"But, Nyte, those questions are silly. They’re so general they don’t mean anything."
"Before you condemn it, come take a look."
He lifted Merlin onto the floor then patted the arm of the chair. When she hesitated, he took her hand, sending tingles dancing the length of her arm, and drew her forward. Reluctantly, she sank onto the armrest as he flipped open the magazine.
"These are all directed at women," he said, "but since we already know how I feel, I’ll put it in the male perspective."
His closeness and his musky male scent prickled at her awareness.
He glanced down the page. "Listen to this one." He pointed at one where she could see he’d put a check beside the second answer. "When your partner looks at you, a) does she smile, b) do her eyes widen, or c) does she fidget?" He glanced at her, staring from one eye to the other. "Your eyes most definitely widen."
He shifted his legs on the chair, dragging her attention to his long, lean body. Her gaze traveled the length of his legs from ankle to thigh, then on up.
"It says here that intense attraction makes the pupils dilate giving the effect of widened eyes."
He pushed his hair out of the way as he turned the page. Her gaze traced the curved line it formed across his chest, fascinated by how it caressed his well-muscled contours.
He lifted his head and smiled. "And what about this next one? Do you catch your partner watching you when she thinks you’re not looking?"
She felt her face flame crimson and she shot her gaze to her hands knotted in her lap. "I’m telling you, those questions really don’t tell you anything."
His fingers stroked her cheek, sending an exciting tingle through her. "I had hoped they’d tell you something."
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him, but that didn’t mean they should be together forever. Love was a complicated thing. Even for a wizard.
Especially for a wizard who had learned that Fate didn’t treat her the same as everyone else.
She stood up. "What I’m interested in right now is teaching you about magic."
He stood up, too, with a glint in his eyes and a smile that threatened to topple her already shaky composure. He stepped toward her and took her hands. She felt his fingers slide between hers, entwining in an intimate, lingering caress. Her nerve endings crackled with unsuppressed desire.
"I would love to learn about magic with you." His words, deep and sexy, rumbled through her.
She drew in a deep breath, trying hard to ignore the compelling urge she had to step forward and nuzzle the underside of his chin, to feel the raspiness of his whisker-shadowed skin against her lips.
What in the world had sent him off on this tangent? She glanced at the stack of magazines on the table and large red letters caught her attention. ‘How to put the magic back in your relationship,’ and below it, ‘Use sexual fantasies to light his desire.’
Great. Just what she needed. Magazines that encouraged Nyte to think about relationships and sex.
She eased away from him and picked up the stack of offending publications, intent on discarding them in the recycle bin.
"Nyte, I think I’d better see about a better source of reading for you."
Lucinda carried the magazines into the kitchen and quickly sorted through them. She put aside the two decorating magazines she’d picked up to give her ideas for her spare room, the Nu Age magazine she’d received yesterday, and a couple of technology oriented publications. The rest she carried to the garage and dumped in the blue plastic bin.
Obviously, her task of training Nyte had to do with far more than magic. Tomorrow, on the way home from work, she would pick up a selection of magazines that would educate Nyte about the world.
Chapter 5
"The first thing you have to do is believe that magic exists."
Lucinda sat in the armchair facing Nyte as he lounged on the couch.
"Then," she continued, "you must believe you can do it."
He shrugged. "I do."
She stood up and strolled to the fireplace, checking the supply of wood in the box on the hearth. Half full.
"You may think you do, but I’m talking about a deep-down, believe-it-from-the-depths-of-your-soul kind of belief. It’s not that easy. The average person knows magic doesn’t exist, so for them it doesn’t. Even if they witness a feat of magic, they usually find a way to explain it away. Hypnotism. Illusion. Special effects."
He smiled. "That may be true, but I’m not the average person."
She certainly couldn’t argue with that. There was nothing average about Nyte: not his looks, not his confidence, not his effect on her.
"Okay, but even if you think you believe it, you may fight the belief. For many, the idea of magic adds a feeling of instability to their otherwise safe, secure world. A feeling that things are not as substantial as they seem."
"Which, of course, they aren’t." He planted his hands on his knees and leaned forward. "I do believe, Lucinda. I have already experienced your magic. I’m ready to move on to the next lesson."
She sighed. Clearly, he would be an impatient student.
"All right. The next step is to understand the energy flow through your body and to learn to control it."
>
She stepped toward him. "Stand up."
He stood and, as his body unfolded before her and his broad chest loomed in front of her, her heart accelerated in a pittery-pattery sort of way.
"Turn around," she said, her voice less assertive than she’d intended.
She held her hands slightly above his spine, about midway down his back, and felt the tingle of his energy field. She allowed her hands to drift away from each other, following the flow of energy to his shoulders. It felt extremely powerful, laced with magical potential. Like a magnet, it drew her toward him. She eased forward as her hands drifted down his back, reveling in the positive current emanating from him.
Warm. Enticing. Drawing her closer. She felt the soft wool of his sweater against her cheek.
The unexpected physical contact startled her. She jerked away. Good heavens, she must be losing it.
He turned toward her. "Don’t stop, little one. Whatever you were doing, it felt marvelous." He linked hands with her, his fingers wrapping her in gentle warmth.
"I was sensing the energy flow through your body." If she felt a bit more stable, she would draw away, but the feel of his hand surrounding hers was too inviting to abandon just yet. She couldn’t help it. She liked being touched by him.
"Energy? Like the electricity that powers your lights?"
"In a way."
It wasn’t the best analogy, but it would do for now. She certainly couldn’t come up with anything better in her current muddled state.
"So what would happen if you and I allowed our energy fields to mingle?" He drew her close and the nearness of his body sent her pulse thrumming. "If we form a circuit, what will we turn on?"
Turn on? Heat flooded through her at the thought of she and Nyte... mingling. She knew darned well what--or more precisely, whom--would be turned on. And so did he!
She tugged her hand free. "I think you should learn about your own energy field before you start wondering how to adapt to others."
Putting some distance between them would be a good idea, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor.
"Now, as I was saying. Every being has a flow of energy through their body. To work magic, you draw from the universal energy and direct it through your flow. As you work with this energy, your own flow becomes stronger and healthier, and your natural capacity grows."
If he weren’t so close, she might be able to breathe easier.
"During this training, I’ll teach you how to direct the energy and during the process you will grow in your ability to handle it."
His thumb caressed the back of her hand with short, delicate strokes that seemed to directly affect her breathing.
"You’re saying the more I work with it, the more I can do."
"That’s right. It’s like lifting weights. You need to build muscle as you push yourself to lift larger amounts."
She rested her free hand on his chest. "Your energy field is quite strong."
The tingling in her fingertips acted like an irresistible force, drawing her other hand to rest beside the first. Heat rippled through her and she reveled in the liquid vitality. It pulsed through her, enlivening her, enticing her closer. He’d become one giant, masculine magnet, and she was helpless against the attraction.
She leaned toward him and his arms slipped around her. He drew her against his chest, holding her with such sweet tenderness that she couldn’t bear to break away. In fact, she delighted in the warmth of his breath caressing her temple, the steady beat of his heart against her ear, and the delicious feel of his energy pulsing through her.
He cupped her face in his hands and drew her head up. He gazed at her with eyes the color of the midnight sky on a moonless night. As he slowly lowered his lips to hers, some small resistance clamored inside her, but she could barely hear it over the bombardment of her senses.
She wanted this. She needed this. The primal urge to join with him, to experience the sharing of their energy in the most fundamental way possible overwhelmed her. His lips touched hers and energy flooded her in a wild torrent. Swept away by the frenetic electrical storm thundering between them, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her nipples two tight points of white-hot need. A flame ignited inside her vagina and seared along the inside walls. She seemed to be melting from the inside out as hot moisture pooled at her base, preparing for him.
It was too intense. Too fast. She felt out of control and that frightened her. The frantic desire surging through her threatened to dislodge her from the world of sanity. Beyond the chasm lay the unknown, with potential dangers too great to risk.
"Nyte," she gasped against his lips, her voice an octave lower than usual.
He drew back an inch, his midnight gaze searing hers. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I... we... can’t do this. It’s...." She sucked in a breath of air. "It’s too much."
He stared at her for long seconds, his scrutiny fixed on her eyes. With all the willpower she could muster, she held his gaze, hoping she didn’t look as dazed as she felt.
He slid his hands to her upper arms. "All right."
As he eased her away, part of her screamed its need to stay in his arms, to continue what they’d barely begun, but she held onto her resolve. He held her steady, which was a good thing, because her balance had been thrown off kilter so badly, she would have stumbled without his support.
She blinked, surprised he’d given in so easily. She’d thought she would have a fight on her hands, a fight she would be sorely in danger of losing.
She eased away from him and slumped onto the couch. She clutched her glass of pop, welcoming the icy cold pervading her palms.
He’d always had a riotous effect on her, but why had it been so much stronger this time? Somehow, in sensing his flow, she had aligned their energies, opening a floodgate between them. She would have to be terribly careful in the future because, now open, the deluge could sweep her away to catastrophe.
"I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before," she murmured, staring at her hands.
He settled beside her on the couch, then took one of her hands in his own and squeezed it in a reassuring manner.
"I know. It’s all right, little one."
She shook her head. "I don’t throw myself at men, and I don’t believe in casual sex."
Nyte cupped his hands around her face and turned her so he could gaze into her wide, blue eyes. In quiet, deliberate words, he said, "There would be nothing casual about our lovemaking."
The thought of joining with Lucinda ignited Nyte’s desire once more. The gut-wrenching desire he’d been fighting so valiantly. The desire that had raged through him since Lucinda had first touched him with her magic hands. The desire he had to fight, because she had asked him to.
And he’d been winning, too.
It didn’t help when she flicked her tongue around the edges of her lips, leaving them glistening and dewy. His groin felt heavy with need and he wanted to lower his face to hers, to capture her soft lips again and let passion flare.
But he wouldn’t.
As he stared at her dazed blue eyes, he wondered why he held back. She had been ready, willing. She had fallen into his arms just as he’d hoped. True, she had balked at the intensity, but he could have encouraged her through it, with firm, reassuring words and a gentle touch. Then she would have joined with him and they would both know the unparalleled joy of bonding.
But he couldn’t do it. It would have been catching her off guard. Ambushing her. He wanted her fully cognizant of her decision to make love with him, to complete the bond.
He wanted her to want him.
Besides, he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability.
She stared at him uncertainly, then cleared her throat. "I’d better go check on dinner."
* * * *
Lucinda knew she had to do something about Nyte’s amnesia.
She set dinner on the table and, as they ate, she sat contemplati
ng the problem. He’d probably get his memory back naturally given time, but she was anxious to find out what had happened to him, and she wanted some answers to the questions Rand kept raising.
After dinner they moved to the living room. Lucinda used the brass poker to shift a log on the fire Nyte had started before dinner. Bright sparks flared as the log tumbled sideways.
She settled into the green recliner beside the couch. The fire blazed cheerfully, the light reflecting warmly off Merlin’s coat. The fuzz ball had found his usual spot on the hearth and curled into a tight, black circle with no apparent appendages. She was surprised he hadn’t curled up with Nyte on the couch. Dinner must have filled his little belly enough that he just wanted to nap peacefully--especially after all the treats Nyte had shared from his plate.
She glanced at Nyte. He had his fingers steepled in front of him as he stared into the orange flame. From the serious expression on his face, he was probably contemplating the events of the past day, which, strangely enough, constituted his whole life as he knew it.
"Nyte, this whole situation must be very difficult for you." She sipped her Coke as he lifted his gaze to hers. "Last night you found yourself alone in Paris with no memory of who you are, no possessions to give you any clue, and then I show up and drag you back here."
He smiled, a devilish gleam in his eye. "That last event made the whole thing worthwhile."
She ignored his sweet talk--and the annoying quiver of delight at his flattery--intent on getting some answers. "But it must leave you feeling very disoriented."
