Texas Magic

by Jean Brashear

  Dominic rolled over and let her go, silently cursing Max to perdition while willing his unruly body to behave. He studied her delectable bare backside as she answered the phone, smiling as she groped for a throw on the sofa and wrapped it around her.

  He wanted to see every inch of her sweet flesh, damn it. He stood and strode toward her, determined to do his part to get her off the phone.

  Then he saw her eyes flash in alarm as he approached, saw guilt flare as she turned hastily and lowered her voice to a whisper. Heard the name Josh.

  And reality slugged him right in the jaw. Max? Her friend was in it with her? What the hell was going on?

  He whirled and headed back to the porch, jerking on his pants. One glance at the bed, and a million images rose up to taunt him, memories so sweet and hot they smote him right in the heart.

  His promise to Bradley be damned. He was going to clear this up right now. He could not wait another minute. No matter how he feared what he’d learn, he had to know. Now.

  When he walked back inside, she’d hung up. She was making coffee, her movements jerky. When she spilled coffee grounds, her shoulders sank as though the weight of her secrets had finally broken her. Her head dropped and he could see despair in every line of her frame.

  He didn’t trust his own reactions anymore. He wanted to go to her, wanted to comfort her too badly. Such a lapse was dangerous for a man like him. He didn’t have the luxury of blind faith.

  He needed facts. No matter what they were.

  “Lexie, are you spying on me?” There. It was out.

  She turned too slowly, guilt stealing over her face, and his heart sank like a stone.

  “Tell me why. What did Kassaros promise you?”

  Her face was a study in confusion. “Who’s Kassaros?”

  Anger ran roughshod over his dread. “Don’t play coy with me. What did he offer you to help him take Poseidon down?”

  “What?” She shook her head as though to clear it. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the man who wants to destroy my business. The man who used Ariana—devastated her—because he hates me so much. What did he give you for spying for him? And what is Max’s role in all this?”

  She clutched the throw at her breasts, her brows knitted in confusion, anger stealing over her face. “You—you think I’m out to hurt your company?” Her voice sharpened. “You think—after what we—” She gestured toward the porch, toward the bed. “You think I could work to destroy your company and then sleep with you?”

  Insult rolled off her in waves, her green eyes sparking with outrage and despair. “How could you?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If you can believe that of me, then I was more wrong than I knew. You did steal Max’s code, didn’t you?”

  Caught up in the maelstrom of heartsick despair and roaring anger, it took a minute for him to comprehend her words. “What? What are you saying?”

  “Your graphics for Lightning Quest. The code was stolen from Max.”

  “That’s impossible. The design team wrote that code.”

  “I don’t think so. Max buried an Easter egg in it, and I tried to uncover the Easter egg myself, but it was too confusing. But I heard them talking about new code that surprised them, and Josh told me how much fun he’d had working on the final version of it.”

  “Absolutely impossible. I would know—” Then it hit him. Bradley was right. “You have been spying.”

  The guilt he’d seen before rippled over her features.

  “Bradley was right.” Leaden despair settled into his heart. He turned away, raked fingers through his hair.

  “I had to help my friend. Poseidon is huge and powerful. He’s only one man.”

  All he could hear, all he could think, was that he’d been a fool. Again.

  He whirled. “How long? How long have you been spying? Do you know what can happen to you? You can go to jail for what you’ve done.”

  Green eyes sparked. “So can you. You stole Max’s dream.”

  “Even you cannot get away with calling me a thief. I am no thief. Nothing has been stolen. You are wrong.”

  An odd sort of relief leaped into her gaze. “You didn’t know.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, thank goodness. I was so afraid—”

  All Dominic could think about was the devastation it would wreak on his company if she were right. She could not be right. Lightning Quest was too important, the timing too tight.

  And she had believed him capable of stealing from her friend. He had given her entry to his soft underbelly, to his most vulnerable self—and she thought him a thief. Could believe so little in his integrity, understand him so little.

  “You could make love with me, believing I stole from your friend?” In a strange sort of way, fury receded. He grew numb. “What kind of woman are you?” he murmured almost to himself.

  Lexie glanced up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “A fool, apparently. You made love to me believing me a spy.”

  “You are a spy.” His jaw tightened. It was Celia all over again. It was his greedy stepmother, saying one thing with her mouth and plotting his doom behind his back.

  “I was trying to help my friend,” she cried out. “Max needs me.”

  I needed you, too, Lexie. But we were spinning in separate orbits, all along. When I thought my heart touched yours—

  It had been a mirage conjured out of longings he’d thought long ago vanquished. Dominic swallowed the bitter taste of deception and headed for the rest of his clothes, pulling about him the only thing that had never let him down: the mantle of distance. It was his refuge, his reliable friend. Inside there he could function, could do what needed to be done.

  The first thing was to get out of here. Get away before the acid of betrayal ate its way through.

  “Nikos—”

  “Do not call me that,” he snapped, then brutally shoved away his fury, swallowed hard, locked it down tightly.

  Then he looked at her one last time.

  She looked ravaged. Vulnerable.

  Dominic clamped down hard on a renegade urge to close the distance between them, to take her in his arms, to offer comfort.

  What insanity was this? How did she do this to him?

  Before he could weaken, he spoke. “Your friend is wrong. I am not a thief. I do not employ thieves.” He turned away, headed for the door. “Your security clearance will be revoked. Any communications you must have before the gala will be routed through Mrs. Murray.” He grasped the door handle in a death grip, wondering what it would take to stop this crushing ache that held his heart in a fist. How long this time to get past betrayal?

  Surely this time would do it. He would never be fooled again.

  Her voice came from behind him, quiet and strained but threaded with determination. “Perhaps I don’t want to do the gala anymore.”

  “No.” A quick bolt of panic skittered through him at the thought of never seeing her again. Only for the sake of the company, he assured himself. Not for him. He turned back, steeling himself to resist whatever he would see. “You will finish your contract. To do otherwise would ruin you.”

  Lexie flinched. “Don’t threaten me, Dominic.”

  She should look ridiculous, standing in her kitchen, her slender feet bare, white-knuckled fingers clutched on bright woven fabric wrapped around a body he still wanted with a hunger he damned.

  But she was a warrior queen, standing there, head high and defiant.

  He had to get out of here before the dam broke and all the nasty jumble inside him spilled free. “It is no threat. It is not personal, only a simple matter of business.” He watched her wince at his cruelty. “The gala will go on. I will investigate your claim and prove you wrong. In a few days, it will all be over.”

  Those green eyes shimmered, her voice grew hoarse. “Just that simple? It’s over, you walk away? That easy, Dominic?”

  Why did he feel it was a test and he was failing?

  It couldn’t matter.
He had made a mistake. He had a company to save. Only that could matter.

  So he nodded, studiously ignoring the ache that crowded his chest, tightened his throat. “Just that simple. Goodbye, Lexie.”

  He walked out the door, leaving dreams and deceptions behind.

  Chapter Eleven

  He was gone, and he wouldn’t be back. Everyone who loved her…left.

  But he hadn’t said he loved her, had he? She’d only hoped that someday…

  Someday wasn’t going to come. Lexie stared at the door Dominic had just exited, listened to the sound of his engine dying away. Dominic—the real man. Not Nikos, the lover of her dreams.

  She closed her eyes against the claws shredding her heart. How had she been such a fool? Couldn’t she ever see things for what they were, not what she wanted them to be? It was that imagination again, that stupid streak of romanticism that she just couldn’t seem to stamp out.

  But it had seemed so real last night, his hunger, his need for her, his tender touch. He’d taken her to heights of bliss beyond that first night’s ecstasy, held her heart in his hands, stolen her breath.

  Every touch had whispered of something deeper, something real and precious and fine—

  Yet all the while, he’d known she was spying. All the while, he had made love to a woman he didn’t trust. So every bit of what had seemed so real had been a lie.

  And Lexie had soaked up every bit of it and asked for more. Begged for more. Given up every last shred of self-respect while moaning for more—

  She had to stop thinking about it, about him. It was over. He was over. And in a few days, this job would be over. She should call him up, tell him to go straight to hell, tell him to take his precious job and shove it. She didn’t need him, didn’t need his job, didn’t need—

  Oh—The stab of pain wouldn’t let her kid herself. Lexie fought the urge to sink to the floor in despair. She did need the job. And she wanted to need him—Nikos, not Dominic. Not the cold man, not the rich man, not the powerful one.

  The tender one, the laughing pirate. The lonely wolf.

  Despite everything she knew was smart, was sensible, a part of Lexie stubbornly clung to the belief that there had been truth between them, had been something fine and sweet and—

  Pure. The laugh that tore from her throat was ragged with grief. She no longer knew the difference between truth and a lie, not if she could be this wrong.

  She stared sightlessly out toward her valley, leaden despair settling around her like a shroud. She wanted nothing more right now than to slide into oblivion, to burrow away from this massive ache too huge to contain inside her chest.

  Which is why she would do the opposite. She would go take her shower and wash his scent away. She would dress and she would go to his mansion and work—

  Her knees buckled. She bent double, the pain ripping, tearing. She couldn’t do this. She—

  Lexie squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the edge of the counter, hunched against a hurt so big she couldn’t breathe.

  You can do this. You can’t let him destroy you, can’t let him win.

  She sucked in one breath. Exhaled. Sucked in another.

  Blew it out, exhaling the poison of betrayal.

  She would work hard. Work smarter. Work as if it would save her life, her sanity, save her from losing her mind.

  And she would pray her most fervent pleas that the fates would be kind, that she would not have to see Dominic Santorini until this was all over.

  Straightening, forcing herself to deal with the little things first, Lexie turned and started all over to make coffee.

  Coffee. Shower. Work.

  Not love. Never love. Not foolish dreams. Work, just work. It was pitiful protection—but it was all she had. She would make it enough, until her heart caught up.

  Dominic drove straight to the office. He would use a change of clothes he kept there. By the time he had to see Ariana and Mrs. Garcia, he would have himself in hand, be back to normal.

  Even as he thought the words, they mocked him. Normal would be a long time in coming. What he’d lost this morning would not release its claws until he confirmed that he was right, until he put Lexie behind him.

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel as devastated green eyes rose before him. Despite all his resolve, something inside him twisted in endless, aching grief.

  He didn’t know what to hope for—that she was wrong, or that she was right. Either way, he lost too much.

  He strode past Bob with only a nod, his mood darkening with every step. No one had yet arrived on his floor, thank God. He tore off the clothes he wanted to burn and stepped into the shower to scrub away the night.

  But the night wouldn’t leave—Lexie wouldn’t leave him. She taunted him with a thousand images, a thousand sensations, a thousand memories.

  And he knew a hunger so deep it gutted him.

  Dominic slammed his palms against the tile and hung his head, letting the water beat down while his eyes burned as though he were a callow boy suffering his first rejection.

  Why? He cried out to the fates. Why couldn’t she be who I thought she was?

  For a second, he leaned back against the tile, wanting its chill to shock him back into his senses. He stared into the steam with eyes gone sightless.

  No one would ever know how much he’d wanted her to be real, how much he’d needed her to be the tomboy, the one woman who wouldn’t care if he had two nickels to rub together.

  Dominic shook his head and took a deep breath, then shut off the shower and grabbed a towel.

  “Lex, are you excited about—” Max’s voice dwindled as he walked through her office door two days later. “What’s wrong? What are you doing here, sitting in the dark?”

  “I can’t go, Max.” Bright light flared as he hit the switch, and she covered her eyes.

  “Bull. Of course you’re—what happened to you? You look like hell.”

  “Thanks a lot. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  “I just drove in.” He crossed the room and dropped to a crouch before her. His voice turned gentle. “Are you scared, is that it? You know the gala will turn out fine. You’re a genius with the sets.”

  She raised her head and met his gaze. “I just don’t want to go.”

  “You are so full of it. You love hearing people rave about your work, and this is the best you’ve ever—” He stopped, cocked his head. “Is this about me? Is it because of the code? ’Cause, Lex, it’s going to work out. I’ve got a copy of the game ordered. I’ll have it tomorrow, and then I’ll be able to prove it.”

  “It will be too late then, won’t it?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Having a glitzy launch will only improve my situation. Lots of people will be paying attention, and tomorrow they’ll be able to verify that it’s true.” He shoved to his feet, holding out a hand. “So get up and get a move on. You’re not even dressed for the big shindig.”

  She’d brought her dress, wanting to avoid the long drive back to the dome after working all day on finishing touches. “I don’t want to go.”

  Max stared at her for a long moment. “It’s him, isn’t it? Santorini. You’re afraid to see him.”

  “I’m not afraid. He means nothing to me.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Despite the distance of two days, not one iota of the pain had lessened. She’d worked until she dropped and still she awakened from dreams of Dominic.

  Not Dominic. Dominic lied and stole.

  Nikos. It was Nikos she missed.

  “Come on, Lex, spit it out. What happened?”

  Max had been gone since that night, and she’d been relieved, having no idea what to tell him. Spike had called a couple of times to check last-minute details, and somehow she’d managed to keep it together so Spike wouldn’t know.

  Every hour Lexie had spent at the mansion, she’d been worried sick over what she’d say to Dominic if he came near—but true to his word, he kept distance between them. She’d seen him a couple of t
imes, but he’d acted like she was invisible.

  She had to tell Max. “Max, he knows. He says it’s not true, says he’ll prove it.” She waited, almost hoping he’d yell at her, do something, anything to break the ice encasing her heart. When he remained silent, she looked up. “I’m sorry. When you called before you left—” She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could wring out the memories of that night. “He was there. He heard me talking to you.”

  Max swore darkly. “What happened? Why was he—”

  She shrank back into her chair, and Max cursed again. “Oh, no. Lexie, what were you thinking?”

  She started to cry, swiping angrily at her tears. “He knew. He called me a spy. He knew I’d been spying on him and he still came to me and made me believe—” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “What a goddamn mess.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She huddled in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here, anyone but herself. “I never meant—I was just trying to help—” Her voice broke.

  Max began to pace, raking impatient fingers through his hair.

  “Max, I don’t think he knew. Dominic, I mean. He seemed truly surprised.”

  He turned, studied her. “So what’s he doing about it?”

  “I don’t know. He just said he’d prove that I was wrong. He said it couldn’t happen without him knowing.”

  Max snorted. “He may be a wizard, but he’s not omnipotent.” He stared at her but she could tell he was seeing something else. Then his focus snapped to her. “Get dressed.”

  “What?”

  “I said get dressed. You’re going to the gala and I’m going with you. I want to size up this guy for myself, talk to people there. The whole company will be there, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go.” He headed for the door, then stopped and turned. “Can you handle this? Seeing him again, I mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I owe you big.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself. You should have stayed out of it, that much is true. But you didn’t create this mess. Someone at Poseidon did. They hurt me and they hurt you.” His voice went hard and grim. “Me, I’ll recover. But no matter who’s at fault over the theft, I want a piece of Santorini for what he did to you.”