Texas Magic

by Jean Brashear

  “Touché,” he chuckled, gesturing toward the engine with a sweep of his arm. “It has lost fire. There is no spark to the plugs, so I’m checking the points now.”

  Lexie looked in and couldn’t resist a smile at how clean the engine was. “Need me to crank it for you?” She stifled the urge to rub her hands together. She’d always wanted to drive one of these babies.

  “Please. The keys are in it.”

  Lexie sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the key with her left hand. Not even a click. She frowned.

  “You’ve never driven a T-bird,” he said. “It will not start in Park. Go to Neutral.”

  “Fords,” she muttered.

  “I heard that.” He turned his head her way and grinned. “You are jealous because you’re driving that behemoth.”

  “Behemoth—” Lexie sputtered but couldn’t help grinning. “I’ll have you know—”

  The slashing grin was deadly, but his deep laughter did something to her insides. Lexie’s heart sped up. There was nothing much more fun than talking cars with someone who felt passionate about them. Max would love this guy.

  Then she realized she was staring. Dropping her gaze in confusion, she shifted into Neutral and turned the key again.

  He swore softly. “It’s not the points.”

  “Think it’s the coil?” she asked.

  He looked at her with increased respect. “Probably.”

  She shifted back into Park and stepped out of the car to peer under the hood. “I know a great parts house about half an hour from here. Come on—I’ll take you.”

  He rose. So close. So big. So gorgeous.

  Stop ogling, Lexie. He’s just another grease monkey.

  But he’d make a good pirate. She could already visualize him, gleaming blade caught in his teeth, flowing white shirt open to his waist.

  Her designer’s imagination was running away with her, but the fact couldn’t be disputed. The man was anything but ordinary.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Lexie frowned. “Why what?”

  “I can simply call a tow truck. It would be much less trouble.”

  “Ah, but then you wouldn’t owe me big and I wouldn’t get to drive this baby, would I?” she smiled.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I would definitely owe you a ride.”

  “Drive, I said. I don’t have girl cooties. I won’t hurt your precious T-bird, I promise.”

  He glanced over at her pickup, then back at her, his gaze considering. “I am the only person who has ever driven this car since I bought it.”

  “Well, then, the car’s in for a treat, isn’t she?”

  His dark gaze lit and he laughed again. “You are ruthless, Ms.—?”

  She held out her hand. “My name’s Lexie.”

  There was a pause. Then his warm, much-larger hand enveloped hers. “Nikos. You drive a hard bargain, Lexie.”

  “You’re just trying to score points so I’ll let you drive my pickup.” Lexie shot him a puckish grin and turned on her heel. “This place is only open until five on Sunday. Get a move on, Nikos.”

  “Yes!” Lexie jumped, thrusting her fist in the air. They shared the grin of co-conspirators as the engine rumbled to life. It had taken them almost two hours of driving and then working in the sun once they returned. They were both hot and sweaty and dirty, despite the bottled water Nikos had bought them.

  She couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed an afternoon more.

  He left the motor running and rose from the seat, his height, his nearness, the voltage of his smile registering on Lexie in an unconscious warming of her skin.

  He reached toward her, and Lexie’s heart stuttered. Slowly, his thumb rubbed over her cheek and she found herself wanting to lean into his touch.

  “Grease,” he said, his voice husky.

  As he pulled his hand away, one finger traced lazily across her lower lip. Lightning sizzled down her body. She caught her breath, only to look up into dark, dark eyes that seemed almost … lonely.

  “I should go,” he said slowly.

  “Yeah,” she answered, but she wasn’t ready.

  “Would you—” The dark eyes held her. “I saw a diner back on the highway. This is thirsty work. Let me buy you dinner or a cold drink, at least.”

  I know a better one, she started to say, but Ruby’s in Sweetgrass wasn’t open on Sundays. She should say no, anyway. She had a big meeting with Poseidon Productions, day after tomorrow, meeting with the head honcho about the extravaganza for the game launch. She should go over her presentation one more time. She needed to be sharp and ready. It was a job that would take her event design business to a new level.

  She frowned. She wasn’t even sure that she should be finishing this job after what Max had learned about the company, but Max had insisted. He refused to let her forego a great opportunity when he could only suspect that Poseidon had stolen from him, not prove it.

  “It’s all right.” His voice jerked her back. He nodded, stepping away. “I understand. You do not know me.”

  A lone wolf peered out from those dark eyes, just for a second, and Lexie couldn’t resist the urge to care for that wolf.

  Anyway, she told herself, a little more time with him would distract her from the nerves over how important this new job was. Over her dilemma about Max.

  “I have a better idea. My hands are filthy and so are yours. My place is only a couple of miles from here. You can clean up and I’ll fix us both a big glass of iced tea.” Then before he could answer, she smiled. “Let me drive the T-bird to my place? You did say you owed me.”

  Again she had that sense of a man isolated from human contact and wondered at its cause. His eyes lit, and a smiled tugged at his lips.

  Lexie held out her keys. “Race me?”

  A much larger and very warm hand scooped the keys from hers. “A hot-rodder.” Dark eyes glittered. “The woman has a taste for danger.”

  She repressed the shiver dancing over her nerves and turned away, rubbing her hands in glee. “Let’s see what this baby can do.”

  To her surprise, he followed her, opening the car door for her as though she were dressed in silk, not cutoffs. Touched by the courtly gesture, Lexie stared up at him, wondering about this man who seemed not quite part of the modern world. He looked like a pirate; she could easily imagine him striding the deck of a ship sailing the seas.

  But then, she was known for her fanciful notions. Her grandmother had encouraged them; her grandfather had tried to force, then bribe them out of her.

  He hadn’t succeeded. And she had no family now—except Max. “I’ll take care of this beauty, I promise.” Then she waved and was off like a shot.

  As he followed her, the man whose family had always called him Nikos was still wondering what to think of this unique creature. He knew that his offer of a meal was more than polite concern. It was reluctance to let her go, pure and simple. He had just spent the most pleasurable hours in many years, laughing and talking with this charming sprite, feeling at ease as he hadn’t in so long.

  But he had to ask himself what he thought he was doing when they turned onto a one-lane road, then turned again a half-mile later. He wasn’t prone to spontaneous moves like this. He had so much work to do before tomorrow’s early meeting, and he needed to make time for his troubled sister Ariana, too.

  He could not stay long. Should probably simply tell Lexie when they stopped that he had work to do. But then he thought about the quirky, unpredictable character driving in front of him. She didn’t know who he was or how much money he had and seemed to like him, anyway. It felt wonderful. That would change, of course, when she found out. The women he encountered seldom looked past the dollar signs. He couldn’t help wanting to string out this rare interlude.

  But he did not have that luxury. Duty called. He would see her home, get her phone number, and then leave. It might be a while before he could indulge himself again, with his business threatened by signs of a hostile takeove
r. But somehow, out of his killer schedule, he would find a time to ask her out on a date. He wanted more time to enjoy that effervescence, the way she reached into the darkness and spread her light.

  He supposed he might even get lucky. Perhaps she wouldn’t change, still wouldn’t care once she knew who he was.

  Certainly nothing else about her was predictable.

  She was an odd combination of tomboy and temptress. Gamine. Beautiful. Huge green eyes filled with laughter. Tousled, wildly sexy auburn hair springing from her ponytail with abandon. Lush, full lips that made a man want to drop to his knees and beg.

  They rounded a corner, turned in past a mailbox and her place came into view.

  Nikos hadn’t been struck dumb in a long time, but this was one for the books. A dome. A geodesic dome.

  Where else for a tomboy with a courtesan’s mouth who got more excited over an engine than most women got over a diamond the size of an egg?

  Coming down the drive, he looked around. She had flowers everywhere, a brilliant rainbow of blossoms. In the middle of a glade off to the side, she’d set a birdbath. Hummingbird feeders dotted the trees in several spots, and a windsock flew above the dome.

  He peered more closely, squinting in the last rays of the sun, trying to see the design.

  A Jolly Roger.

  A crack of laughter worked its way out of his throat, and he realized that he’d laughed more this day than he had in a year. Then he sobered, thinking about just how much was at stake, how little right he had to be taking this detour. He had a company to save, and he’d only left the office for a drive so he could think.

  He should back out of her driveway right now. Head to the office, get back on his laptop, rack his brains for an answer to the threat to his business.

  But the thought sucked all the glow out of an evening made unexpectedly bright by a slender fairy with a streak of grease on her cheek.

  The rap on his window jerked him out of his thoughts. He rolled down the window.

  Her hands slipped into her back pockets and a wisp of uncertainty entered her gaze. “Want to look around?”

  He could see that she expected him to say no. Despite her cheer, he’d glimpsed vulnerability every time they ventured outside car talk. That decided him.

  “Is the inside as colorful as the outside?” He stepped out of the pickup.

  “See for yourself.” She tucked one hand in his elbow, her eyes once again sparkling with mischief, and drew him inside, turning on the lights.

  Speech failed him.

  His eyes roamed the—room, he guessed one would call it. The dome basically comprised one big space, with areas cleverly divided off by furniture arrangements. Only one section had a ceiling, the rest rose to the huge circular skin of the dome, painted sky blue and dotted with clouds. As the darkness fell, he could see tiny white lights glimmering up above.

  His gaze caught on the bed, set in an alcove sumptuous enough for a pasha’s seraglio. A free-standing frame surrounded the bed with silk draped to form sides and a lofty, shimmering canopy above. The midnight blue draperies were caught at the posts by deep green braided cords, and the satin coverlet bore a paisley pattern in burgundy, deep green and midnight blue, with gold accents.

  The gamine mechanic had a sensual streak that fit her lush mouth. This place was seductive, almost decadent. He could easily picture her slender white limbs against dark satin sheets, and it was not a big leap to imagine himself in that bed with her.

  He cleared his throat. “Did you build it?”

  “No, it was a foreclosure that I got really cheap. I guess nobody else could see its potential.”

  He tore his gaze away from that sultan’s bed. “It is … open.”

  She laughed. “You have no idea how much until you try to get warm in the winter. Good thing Central Texas doesn’t have much cold weather. Sixteen-foot ceilings make a lot of space to heat. The warmth all goes up to the top.”

  She gestured toward the only part of the dome with actual walls and a ceiling. “You can wash up in there. I’ll use the kitchen sink.”

  He complied, grateful to escape and quit thinking about that bed.

  He stepped inside the most sybaritic bathroom he’d ever seen and as he strode toward the sink, he could only shake his head in admiration.

  A huge whirlpool tub sat in one corner. His gaze wandered over the room, the only one in the dome with a ceiling, formed by an angular span connecting the side walls to the curved wall of the dome. Someone had painted an intricate mural on the ceiling in rich blues, greens, and reds with bold mythological figures.

  A long skylight arced overhead through the mural, bringing the fading evening light into a room lush with greenery and mirrors. The gleaming ivory tile floor made a superb foil for the cobalt blue tub, easily large enough for two.

  For two. He looked at the tub and the mirrors surrounding it, imagining all the candles that lined the edge, lit and glowing. The skylight would let in the moonglow and… He imagined Lexie reflected from every angle, her skin luminous in the candlelight. Those enormous green eyes fastened on him, those berry-wine lips slightly parted …

  Nikos swore silently and turned off the water, then dried his hands. He’d taken a drive to shake out the cobwebs, but the drive had succeeded too well. He was far too intrigued by the mysteries of this woman.

  Then he glanced into the mirror and saw her behind him. Slowly he turned and crossed to her.

  For one heart-stopping instant, he saw the same temptation in her eyes, huge and dark, her lips slightly parted. Then she gnawed lightly at that full lower lip.

  Nikos lowered his head, desperate to taste her. Now.

  “Mrrowwwww—” Something brushed against his ankle. They both jumped. Quickly, Lexie stepped back from him. Nikos looked down.

  A solid gray cat stared at him, blinking.

  Lexie’s voice wasn’t quite steady as she reached down and picked up the animal. “My cat Rosebud. She’s a Russian blue. That’s why she sounds so cranky—she’s part Siamese, with that awful yowl they have,” she prattled, turning away toward the kitchen.

  “I should go,” he said.

  She turned back to him, holding the cat tightly into her chest, her gaze a mixture of relief and disappointment. “I haven’t fixed your tea yet.”

  He should go. But he didn’t want to. What about her—what did she want? Who was she, anyway? They’d talked cars nonstop for two hours, and he’d thought he’d had a bead on her without ever knowing anything personal about her.

  But that was before he’d seen the sultan’s bed. The colors. The lush, sensual fabrics.

  That tub.

  She was a mystery, a series of contradictions. Dressed as she was in ancient denim cutoffs and a skinny red-and-white striped top, she could have passed for a teenager, a slender sylph with a messy auburn ponytail and a trail of freckles across her delicate nose. A tomboy, he’d pegged her.

  But in those eyes was both the knowledge of a woman and the nerves of a girl. He found himself wanting to dig a lot deeper, never mind the other claims on his time.

  And she made him laugh. Lightened his heart, made him see a world outside his business, his fragile sister, the unseen enemy who endangered all he’d slaved to build.

  Just a glass of iced tea. That was all she offered, not knowing that her mere presence offered so much more.

  “All right.” He nodded. “May I help?”

  In the end, she’d done more than fix tea. She’d made him a monster sandwich, then offered a big slab of pie. He’d eaten as though he hadn’t had food in a week. They carried a second glass of tea outside to her screened back porch. Lexie fought a laugh when he saw her swinging bed, a mattress on a platform hanging from four sturdy chains hooked to the beams overhead. He was so serious, so contained, yet within him was a man who responded strongly to joy. Who needed a lot more of it in his life, she thought.

  He turned, cocking an eyebrow, and smiled. “You are full of surprises.”
r />   That accent … his voice slid low, finding its way to an untouched place inside her.

  She held out her hand for his glass. “Go ahead—try it out.”

  His expression was part caution, part kid outside the candy store window.

  “Go on—a pirate like you doesn’t get seasick, do you?”

  Startled, he glanced back. “A pirate?”

  Lexie felt a blush working its way up her chest and neck, over her cheeks. Her and her big mouth. “You, uh—I thought when I first saw you—” She didn’t try to finish.

  He threw back his head and laughed, the laughter rising through his strong, tanned throat.

  Lexie wanted to press her mouth against that throat, wanted to slide her hands over the hard muscles beneath that soft white cotton shirt. Wanted to pull it from his jeans and—

  Good grief. She wouldn’t know how to seduce a man if she tried. A few unsatisfactory experiences in college had convinced her of that. Her so-called fiancé had sealed it. Now Lexie stuck to making friends of men. Only friends. It kept life simple.

  But this man…nothing was simple about him. He had gone still, watching her. And in those dark eyes was something that pulled at her, a devastating mixture of loneliness and…desire.

  “Would you walk the plank if I ordered it?” His voice was rough. Husky.

  She licked her bottom lip, then nibbled at the corner. This man probably devoured girls like her for breakfast. “I’d be afraid not to,” she answered.

  He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I do not want you afraid of me, Lexie.”

  How could she be afraid when his voice turned velvet and caressing? “What is it you want, then?” She barely recognized her own voice.

  He closed the gap, taking her glass from nerveless hands and setting it and his on a small round table. “A pirate makes his way by stealing, does he not?” One hand lifted, fingers stroking her cheek, then brushing her lower lip with his thumb.

  “A kiss, Lexie. I want to steal a kiss.”

  He didn’t have to steal. She couldn’t deny it to him, not if her life depended upon it. Right now, she wanted that kiss more than she wanted to breathe. It didn’t seem to matter what she knew about men or what she’d experienced before.