“Oh, wow,” she whispered. The seat practically enveloped her like a glove. The car’s engine woke with a quiet roar. Magnus squeezed in beside her. “I feel like Cinderella.”
“We don’t have to worry about midnight and pumpkins, and glass shoes had to hurt.”
“Not to mention you’re a prince with no castle, got it. I IM’d Vera. She can’t make it, but she says she’s good. Do you think Dorrie’s cousin is still hanging around her?”
“Jack has a job, but I’m betting his spare time is spent in Vera’s vicinity, yes. That okay?”
“He’s a bit older than she is,” Nadine said worriedly.
“I’m older than you. Do I need to back off?”
“Probably, for your sake, if not mine. If what we’re doing blows up, I’m leaving the country by any means possible. I’m not risking ending up in a loony bin again. I’d rather be dead.”
Only then did Nadine remember that Magnus Magnificus’s fiancée had killed herself. She bit her tongue—hard.
Twenty-two
“New rule,” Magnus declared. “You do not mention loony bins and death in my presence if you do not want to detonate Mad Max. Got it?”
“You’re practically vibrating,” Nadine replied in awe. She really hadn’t meant to hurt him. The sports car’s back seat was scarcely big enough for his wide shoulders. She could actually feel his intensity. “I felt your vibrations when you arrived at Woodstar. I’m amazed you’re not causing earthquakes.”
“That’s not the point,” he said grimly, reaching over to crush her hand against the leather seat. “The point is that I have limits and you’re pushing them.”
Nadine processed the data—he was squeezing her hand as if he couldn’t let go. He’d lost someone he’d loved to violence. He feared she would do the same. Got it.
The thought of Mad Max caring that much about her . . . She swallowed hard.
“I will not kill myself,” she told him, wrapping her fingers around his. “I will go after Jo-jo with a machete, which may be the same thing, but I will not leave you in such a wimpy manner as slitting my wrists, got that?”
His grip relaxed somewhat. “Thank you. I’ll keep machetes out of sight.”
Nadine giggled. It had been a long time since she’d felt quite this giddy, and Mad Max had been the one to set her off. He made her feel as if she mattered. She bubbled inside, and needed some outlet to express the sensation. She couldn’t think of an appropriate one.
Instead, she snuggled against him—not difficult to do in this tiny backseat. He obligingly put his arm around her and let her closer.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a few years,” she reminded him. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“That’s about the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” he said, evidently still not over his snit. “You’ve lived a sheltered life that blew up on you. I’m trained in military combat. You saved my life. I owe you one. You’re my responsibility.”
Had he been the general, she’d have been cringing in fear. Instead, she laughed, and leaning into him, blew on his neck. “Run that last part again . . . I saved your life. I am not a helpless infant. I’m just wired weird. And for what it’s worth, Jo-jo wouldn’t have killed a valuable scientist like you. He would have just made you miserable.”
“One of us would have died,” he retorted. “Maybe you should have left me down in that hole.”
She pinched his biceps. “No killing. You’re not in the military any longer. Join the police force if you want to shoot baddies. Let’s practice dancing for Conan’s wedding, and forget about the rest for a few hours, okay?”
“I’ll try,” he agreed reluctantly.
***
With a driver not more than a few feet from their whispered conversation, Magnus figured arguing further wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, Nadine’s hot body pressed against his side had sent his brain south. Dancing would work off a little of that energy while he tried to process the level of her desperation—and his.
But he was pretty damned certain he couldn’t survive weeks of inactivity waiting for her bait-and-switch routine to work.
At Magnus’s direction, the driver dropped them off in an alley behind the club. It was just a Monday, so most of the pier attractions had closed early, but the night club was revving up. The DJ’s blaring speakers shook the walls as he steered Nadine through the shadowy alley and into a side entrance.
He kept her hand firmly in his grip as they entered the room of swirling dancers, flashing spotlights, and pounding salsa. She clung to him and stared at the crowd. Her eyes were as big as emerald lakes, and her grip on his hand was fierce.
“How’s your head?” he asked, worried that this might be too much stimulation.
“It’s better than I imagined,” she shouted in what sounded like relief.
“Your head or the music?” he asked, finally relaxing a little.
If nothing else, Nadine was never boring. In her borrowed heels, she came past his shoulder. He was tempted to press a kiss to her cheek but resisted a sign of affection.
“Both,” she concluded. “How can anyone think like this? It’s your kind of place—everyone is dancing instead of thinking.”
“Works for me.” Relieved that she wouldn’t be having any seizures, Magnus grabbed a table as a couple departed. “If you’re okay, hold the table while I get drinks.”
He didn’t bother asking what she wanted. He already knew she didn’t have a clue. At the bar, he ordered a margarita, easy on the tequila, and a beer for himself. Dancing made him thirsty, and even with a chauffeur, he preferred to limit his alcohol consumption.
Setting the drink in front of Nadine, he let her taste it, and make an approving nod, before indicating the dance floor. “This is an easy one. Do you want to try?”
She jumped up eagerly, taking his hand as if they really were a couple, and she hadn’t practically accused him of holding her prisoner. Maybe he should think of her as a prisoner, but that was anathema to his ethics, especially when she came into his arms like she belonged there. She was all curvy and soft and breathless. He wanted to take her home right then. Which was why he needed to work off the energy.
“They make it look so easy,” she said with admiration, watching another couple clear the floor with their moves as Magnus swung her into the dance.
“They’ve been practicing for years. You’ll learn faster than they did. You move beautifully,” he assured her, feeling her hip sway beneath his hand as he led her backwards, remembering what her curves had felt like naked.
She beamed up at him and added extra sway.
The crowd parted to give another talented couple room. Recognizing the spotlight-hugging pair, Magnus cursed. Nadine peered over his shoulder to see what had set him off.
“Oz and Pippa,” Magnus told her. “They hired the driver and knew where we were going. Want to leave?”
She turned in his arms to watch his brother show off. In this position, while wearing stolen high heels, she danced with her ass nearly at his groin. “Why leave?” she asked.
“For their own damned safety, for starters,” he grumbled. He’d have to buy her a pair of heels and replicate this experiment sometime when they had a life of their own. “There’s a reason they live in the mountains behind fortress walls.”
“Oh?” she inquired. “Is Pippa a prisoner? Or Oz?”
Magnus didn’t explain. That was Pippa’s story to tell. “Pippa has issues. If she’s agreed to take this risk, her curiosity must be stronger than her fear.”
“Her mother is a Malcolm, that much I know. Having psychic gifts is not the same as being Frankenstein’s monster.”
“It can be,” he argued, knowing Pippa’s story.
“She’s beautiful and a really good dancer.” Nadine tugged him to a halt to watch. “Oz isn’t bad, but he’s not in your league. Go tap your brother on the shoulder and see what happens.”
Magnus gave her glossy brown spikes a look
of incredulity. “You want to get me killed?”
“Jealousy is a product of insecurity. Your brother does not strike me as an insecure man,” she said with confidence.
“You’re loco,” he informed her, but the devil was in him now. He entered the circle and tapped Oz on his outrageous Hawaiian shirt. “You asked for it,” Magnus told him, grabbing Pippa’s hand and swirling her away when Oz stepped back in surprise.
***
Nadine grinned as the Maximator and Pippa practically shut down the dance floor with their moves.
It didn’t take Oz long to locate her. The man had a sophisticated movie star/surfer dude thing happening that had feminine heads turning.
“Wanta dance?” he asked grumpily, looming over her.
Once upon a time, she’d dreamed of a handsome man sweeping her onto the dance floor. Tonight, she shook her head no. “I do, but not with you. I’m inexperienced. Max is a patient teacher.”
“Max?” He eyed her skeptically.
He probably wasn’t used to rejection and had reason to believe her nuts. Nadine brushed off his skepticism and nodded at the dance floor. “He wasn’t happy with you following us here. He needs to blow off steam. Your wife’s a better dancer than I am.”
She didn’t mind the looks Oz attracted, not in the same way it annoyed her when women eyed Magnus. The Maximator could have any woman he wanted, and he didn’t even notice.
It seemed strange that he’d want chubby, nerdy her.
“Magnus needs an engine to tear apart, not a dance floor,” Oz corrected. “He hasn’t built any assault weapons yet, has he?”
Nadine sent him a look of amusement. “He simply needs an outlet for all that energy. You are seeing the same man I’m seeing out there, aren’t you?”
As far as she could tell, Magnus applied the same intensity to his dancing as he did his lovemaking. He was magnificent, all smooth moves and grace and fluid steps, one with the music and sexy as hell. Maybe she’d leave the music on when they went to bed next. She sure hoped there was a next.
“I see my brother making a spectacle with my wife, who seems to be enjoying the show they’re putting on. Pippa doesn’t get out much, so I guess I won’t beat him to a pulp. Yet.” Oz crossed his bronzed arms and scanned the crowd. “Keep an eye out for paparazzi. We don’t need our faces on YouTube.”
“Did you come here just to harass Magnus or for another reason?” she asked as the DJ finished with a flourish and called a recess.
She watched as Magnus blocked his tall, but rail-thin, sister-in-law from the press of people as they made their way through the crowd. He had his hand at Pippa’s back, but his gaze was completely focused on Nadine. A pool of molten lava settled in her lower belly at the heat in his eyes.
“Pippa wanted to meet you,” Oz said. “As far as she’s concerned, you’re family. She doesn’t have much family, and she’s convinced all of you need to stick together.” Oz nodded at Magnus and Pippa as they arrived. “And Pippa thinks Oswins are bullies, right?”
“You are,” the tall redhead said without inflection. “It’s part of your charm. Glad to finally meet you, Nadine.” She held out her hand. “And thank you for loaning me your date. Magnus is a superb dancer.”
“And I’m not?” Oz growled, appropriating his wife with a hand at her back, elbowing Magnus away.
Elegantly slim in her off-the-shoulder silk gown, Pippa leaned in and nibbled her husband’s ear before replying. “You’re a good dancer but you have more interest in the people around you than in the music. Magnus is on a mission when he’s on the floor, a tonal difference you won’t understand.” She patted his broad shoulder sympathetically.
“I like your family,” Nadine decided, taking Mad Max’s arm as they returned to their table. “I like the way you look out for each other.”
“Genetic flaw,” he muttered. He swigged his beer and eyed his brother with disfavor. “I don’t owe you for the car and driver if you used him to find us,” he told Oz.
“As I heard it, you’ve already agreed to pay with some new invention,” Oz said without inflection, signaling a waitress. “Would you deny Pippa her fun?”
“At my expense? Yep.”
Nadine elbowed him. “What about for my sake? Isn’t that how this started? It’s not as if you had any interest in dancing.”
“I did,” Magnus said solemnly. “I’ve been told I’m very good at it.”
Shouldering a dazzling purse that probably cost a small Lexus, Pippa took Nadine’s arm. “C’mon, let’s find the little girl’s room while the oafs take a few verbal slugs at each other.” She steered her toward a side corridor.
“Serious case of testosterone poisoning in adolescence?” Nadine inquired innocently.
“I think they brush their teeth with it. If you haven’t killed Magnus yet, you have the patience of a saint. Although he’s not as bad as Conan. I have to push Conan in the pool every time he comes over. He may get married in a wet tux.”
Nadine laughed at the idea of this polished woman shoving anyone in a pool. Over the chattering crowd, she heard a shout but thought nothing of it until Pippa tensed.
She turned to make certain they weren’t being followed. A flash nearly blinded her.
Without warning, Pippa grabbed Nadine’s arm and shoved past the line waiting for the restroom.
“The general didn’t send photographers after me,” Nadine protested.
“Not the general. They’re after me.” Ignoring cries of objection from the women waiting in line, Pippa pushed through the door of the ladies lounge and looked frantically around. “Trapped,” she concluded. “Go back out and pull a fire alarm.”
Her elegant new friend really did have the terrified look of a trapped rabbit. Nadine responded instantly to her panic. “I have no idea what this is about, but there’s a painted-over window on that wall. Will that do?”
Pippa eyed the paint warily. “Even if we can pry it open, I can’t fit through that.”
Women maneuvered around them to reach the sinks and mirrors. More women pressed inside. Nadine heard a cacophony of excited shouts in the room beyond, but no one seemed in any particular danger.
“How important is it to get out?” she asked, eyeing Pippa’s fancy silk gown.
“I just told you to pull a fire alarm. That’s my level of panic. Maybe I can hide in a stall until you fetch Oz.” Pippa seemed prepared to do battle as the next woman shoved past her to grab a stall door before she could.
“Okay, got it. Let’s avoid fire trucks and the mass hysteria of trying to smuggle a man in here.”
Holding Pippa’s arm, Nadine worked her way back to the wall. She studied the window, found the lever, and wacked it with a martial arts chop. The paint cracked. The window probably did, too, but it was hard to tell beneath the paint. All that mattered was that the lever moved.
Pippa gasped at Nadine’s brute reaction. Not raised on nicety, Nadine grabbed the pricey shoulder bag from Pippa. Wrapping her hand in the cloth, she slammed her fist against the lever again, this time pushing it outward.
Miraculously, the window swung open.
Nadine scrambled up on a sink, worked her shoulders through the opening, and deciding the drop to the ground was safe, wriggled through until she could throw her leg over the edge. She couldn’t see Pippa’s expression from the other side of the painted glass, but she wished she had a camera anyway. There had to be gawking going on.
With a painful wriggle that probably ruined her one dress, Nadine was sitting on the window ledge. She leaned back in. “If I can do it, you can, but I advise going legs first.”
“This is insane, but I like it,” Pippa said from near the window. “I’m coming through. Get down.”
Nadine leaped into the dirt dividing the wall from the parking lot. Pippa’s long bare legs swung out shortly after. With a far more graceful maneuver, Pippa swung down to the ground using her hands on the window to swing outward. She shimmied her slim gown back into place.
> “Oomph, that was fun. Not. Oz is going to kill me.” Pippa glanced around. “Do you have a phone on you?”
“Nope. Magnus hogs the phone. You don’t carry one?”
Pippa took back her shoulder bag to rummage through it. “I never go anywhere to need one and keep leaving it on my desk. They’re going to kill us both. Want to run away?”
She said that while lowering herself to a low concrete wall and pulling off her shoes to inspect the heels.
“Tried that. That’s how I wound up with Magnus.” Nadine followed her example and sat down on the wall to watch the front entrance expectantly. “I have every confidence that he’ll figure it out pretty quick.”
Pippa eyed her with respect. “You’ve learned that much about him in a week? You really must read minds.”
“If I did, I’d know what that was all about. Want to explain?”
“Someone thought they saw Syrene,” Pippa said with a shrug. “It’s like yelling Elvis entered the building.”
“Elvis is dead,” Nadine said, trying to puzzle out what a Syrene was.
“Yeah, so is Syrene, but tell that to the paparazzi. If Oz says ‘I told you so,’ can you take him down with that nifty karate chop?”
“Did I just step through some kind of mirror?” Nadine asked. “Is a Red Queen going to chop off my head?”
Twenty-three
The flashing cameras and excited screams wouldn’t have stirred Magnus into action, if his big brother hadn’t jumped up, cursing creatively. Magnus wasn’t used to paparazzi. Oz was. His brain instantly switched to protective mode.
Oz brutally shouldered his way toward the restrooms and the line of irritated women, doing his best to block the flashing cameras and phones aimed at Pippa’s escape hatch.
Leaving his brother to act as obstacle, Magnus morphed into a heat-seeking missile in pursuit of Nadine. His job was to keep her face off the Internet and this was not the way to do it—damn Pippa’s recognizable phiz and addled-fan mystique.
He plowed his way through the crowd by crushing anything flashing in his face with his bare hands.
THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC Page 18
