by Nikki Duncan
The kids, continuously pushing the matchmaking boundaries, were growing more excited with every day that passed, because they were ready to go back to Miami. Several times she’d overheard them talking about what it would be like to spend the summer there. The gist of it was that Sidney would miss Addy and they’d both miss Liz, but being with Tyler was better. If they got Tyler and Taryn together, things would be perfect.
Now that the day had arrived for them to go back to Miami for more than a weekend, Ryder and Sidney were both bouncing from wall to wall and ceiling to floor with anticipation. They hadn’t slept enough or eaten breakfast, which meant that on top of the excitement they were less themselves.
Sidney was moody and quick to snap. Ryder was sullen and clingy any time Taryn or Sidney stopped moving long enough for him to cling. Taryn’s patience was straining, but she reminded herself each time she bit back the urge to get on to them they would be themselves again tomorrow. They wouldn’t be able to keep the same pace more than one day in a row.
Settling the kids in front of the TV, praying for twenty minutes of quiet, Taryn headed to her room for a shower.
What they didn’t seem to realize was that Taryn wouldn’t be staying in Miami, unless Tyler asked. And it was too early in their relationship for any kind of promises of forever.
Like every morning since waking up beside him, Tyler had been the first thing she thought about. No matter what other thoughts niggled in, she always returned to him. With the water streaming down her body, she thought of him washing her. Dressing, she thought of him undressing her.
For a man she wasn’t going to get involved with, he was remarkably distracting.
Three hours later, while checking again that the twins had everything they needed, she still couldn’t stop thinking about him. Only, the closer they got to departure time the more she thought about how long it would be before she and Tyler could sneak away.
Maybe he would sneak little touches, like a hand on her back or a brush of his fingers against hers in an elevator. Her belly tightened at the possibilities.
The doorbell jarred her back to the moment. “Time to go! Grab your backpacks and let’s…”
She trailed off as the kids raced past her in the hall with their bags. Grabbing her laptop bag, she moved to join them by the front door. “I guess you’re ready.”
They both just stared at her like she was dense. Laughing, she waved them outside where Mom was moving bags from a friend’s car over to Taryn’s.
“You look pretty, T.”
“Thanks, Mom. You too.”
The kids controlled the conversation as they drove to the airport and moved their things onto the plane. They continued chatting while Taryn worked with Davio to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind for the performance. They were still chatting when the plane was speeding down the runway.
“It’s going to be a long flight,” she muttered.
“Hey, Taryn?” Martina, already showing a healthy baby bump, eased into the seat. “Mateo and I have been talking.”
Taryn took Martina’s hand and smiled. “This is your last show with me, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I already can’t move like I normally do. It’s only going to get worse.” Martina squeezed her hand as a tear leaked out of her bright eyes. “I’m sorry to let you down.”
“Hey. No.” Taryn wrapped her arm around Martina, speaking firmly. She wanted there to be no misunderstanding between them. “You’re choosing to live your dream. Doing that will never be letting me down.”
“You’ve been so kind to me all this time. I can never repay you.”
“Friends never worry about repayment, so stop feeling like you owe me something.”
Martina, gentle almost to a fault, bit her bottom lip. “What are you going to do for the next shows?”
“Well, I can never find anyone as genuine as you, but I’ll figure something out.” Just as she’d figure out what to do about Tyler and the kids. And so much still hinged on what came out of the gala, whether the thief was on her crew or not, because if the Feds were right, she’d be losing a team member to prison.
“You want to go over anything on the way?”
“Nah. We’re going to be busy enough when we land. I say we just relax and enjoy the flight. The kids brought The Avengers.” Maybe it would be enough to quiet them down some. Doubtful, but she could hope.
“I’ll go see if they want to watch it.” Martina moved away to talk to the kids and Mom.
Taryn had no sooner pulled a magazine out than Davio settled in beside her. Without asking if she wanted to work, he launched into the itinerary he’d set up for the unloading and practice and whatnot. After the gala he would get everything loaded up and fly home with Kimber and Martina while Taryn stayed behind with the kids.
Taryn hoped that was how it all turned out.
When he got up and moved on, Kimber joined her. Instead of talking about the show and itinerary, she flipped through the catalog of art that was going to be on display. They each had a copy and had made notes of dimensions and weights of each piece so they could figure out the tricks. Davio had even made them dummy pieces to practice with.
“I still can’t believe they’re going to have all this stuff in one place. You know, with the thefts.”
“I’m sure they’ll have security.” Taryn shrugged, trying to be casual. The closer they’d gotten to the performance the more anxious she’d gotten and the harder it was to hold her tongue.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t have expected something like this, though,” she lowered her voice, “at least not with us there.”
“I trust my crew. So should everyone else.” They’d all agreed not to talk about Kimber’s visit from the Feds, and Davio, aiming to be helpful, said he’d be looking for anyone showing too much interest in any one piece while he was working the crowd. She’d played along.
“This stuff is all so unique. I hate to think of anything going wrong.”
“Yeah. Me too.” She definitely hated to think about it. The more she thought about it the more real it became and the more closely she weighed every word any of her crew said when they mentioned the gala and the art. She replayed the surveillance video in her mind until she found herself looking at her team with suspicion.
Chapter Twelve
The gala was taking place at a warehouse turned nightclub that had been rented for the night. The bar that dominated one wall was open and manned by agents posing as bartenders. The opposite wall housed the windowless restrooms. The only exits were at the front of the club, which was being monitored by Kieralyn and Ian, and on the back wall, which was blocked by a black velvet backdrop to create a backstage area for Taryn and her crew.
Rather than setting up chairs in rows, cocktail tables draped with black and silver cloths were set up around the art.
The setup made the artwork harder to protect, while also giving their perp the chance to get close enough to make a move.
The team posed as patrons of the show and had their significant others on their arms. Breck and Kami, Liam and Grey, Aidan and Lana, Ava and H, even their friend Simon, a private investigator of sorts, was there with Grey’s sister Ruby. It was the first time Tyler found himself wanting someone at his side, but any someone wouldn’t do. With a nod to one of the two insurance company representatives, identified as Art Security Specialists by the discreet nametag on their lapels, Tyler directed his thoughts away from Taryn and back to the job.
In case they didn’t have enough eyes on the art, motion sensor cameras had been installed in all areas of the club except the restrooms. Those recordings, audio and video, transmitted to a group of computers outside in Tyler’s Jeep. Topping that off, since they didn’t believe in risking a failure, each art piece had been tagged with one of Ian’s hair-thin tracking and listening devices.
They would put the mystery of the art thefts to rest before the night was over. Then he and Taryn would be free to explore whatever was growing between them, without t
he weight of suspicion and questions hanging from their shoulders.
Provocative from toe tip to top hat Taryn stepped silently from behind the velvet curtain. He’d seen pictures of her in her show costume and been impressed. He’d seen her naked and been aroused. In person, in her six-inch stilettos, shimmery stockings with a fishnet pattern, tight black shorts and a snug-fitting tuxedo jacket with tails that covered a white shirt buttoned to her throat, she blew him away.
The room’s mood shifted from quiet appreciation to charged sensuality. The air hummed, or maybe it was his body that hummed. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The sway of her hips as she moved around the room, the flex of her leg muscles, the swish of her coat tails. She was walking arousal and she arrested the attention of every person in the room.
She stopped by the statue Tyler stood beside, and, waiting for no introductions, she smiled slyly. He thought he saw her wink at him a flash before the room went dark.
She’d warned them all that her opening act would be done in the dark, so like planned, Tyler moved a hand to the sculpture, making sure it didn’t move without his knowledge. His fingers brushed hers in the blackness of the room and a jolt of electricity ran through him, arousing him further.
He struggled against the urge to grab her fingers and pull her to him, to drag her behind the curtain and perform a different kind of disappearing act.
The audience murmured, their feet scuffling across the floor as the experience of being thrust into darkness unnerved them. Then, the palest ball of light lit and floated in the air. Soft strains of a saxophone moved across the room, enticing the ball into a dance.
The audience settled, trusting that the lighting was a part of the show. A second ball joined the first, but in a different part of the room.
“Magic.” Taryn’s voice was an evocative whisper that filled the room while her fingers danced along Tyler’s lower back. “Magic is believing.” Her words ebbed and flowed with the music, drawing people in. Her breath, he swore, was a warm caress on his neck. “Even when you can’t see.”
Another globe of light illuminated to his immediate right. He looked all around it, looking for a hand beneath the globe. There wasn’t one. Curious, he moved his hand over and under the globe, but still found nothing.
“Magic.” Taryn said again, placing both her hands on his hips.
Her face was a barely visible outline in front of his. If she aroused people so desperately during every performance, it was no wonder she made so much money.
“Magic is everywhere.” She spoke slowly, drawing the last word out and faded from his sight on the last syllable. As her voice disappeared, the room filled with floating globes of light.
“Magic. Do you believe in it?”
With her challenge issued, the globes vanished and a twinkling sound of metal on concrete filled the room. When the lights were turned back on, the floor was littered with Taryn’s coins. Taryn now stood on a rotating platform in the middle of the room. Tyler wondered how she moved so quickly and soundlessly in her shoes.
“Normally I would pull volunteers from the audience to help with the show.” She smiled that sly smile of hers and shook her head. “We’re doing things a little different this evening.”
She spread her arms wide. “A few generous donors have granted me permission to use their pieces in tonight’s show.” Wrapping herself and the room in a cocoon of flare that sparked with vibrancy, she angled slightly forward and whispered conspiratorially. “They just don’t know what I’m going to do with some of their most treasured belongings.”
The audience applauded, ready to have some fun. Their excitement seemed to feed Taryn. Her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed. His blood pressure rocketed.
In a move that might be her most amazing feat of the night, she hopped off the stand in those heels, landing easily, and immediately began moving around the room. Talking into the microphone hooked on her ear, she moved through the audience, making a big show about the different pieces of art.
“This one—” she ran a finger along the frame of a landscape, “—is the view from what was Napoleon’s home, I’m told.”
She paused, making eye contact with the people standing the closest. “It’s going to be our first act.” Turning a little to her left, she raised a hand toward the black curtain. “My assistant is going to join us in a moment. While we wait for the exotic Martina, could I get a few volunteers to verify there’s nothing unusual about this painting or its frame?”
Aidan stepped forward as one of the volunteers, checking things out. With several other audience members he circled it, looking at every edge of the painting and frame.
“Sir?” Taryn placed a hand on a man’s upper arm. “What’s the verdict?”
Taller than her in her heels, with a few touches of gray in his hair, the man was good looking, and clearly open to her flirting.
“Daryl,” he winked, “and everything looks good.”
Smiling a smile Tyler had never seen before, a smile that said she was in complete control of the world around her, she squeezed Daryl’s biceps. “How can you know it’s solid, Daryl, if you don’t touch it? Speaking of solid…” She turned to the crowd, “Ladies, if he’s not already taken…”
“I’m available—” he looked down at her and winked, “—for the right woman.”
She laughed flirtatiously, showing a side of herself Tyler had never seen, a side that failed to translate on the videoed performances he’d watched. “Sounds to me like you’re in the market for the kind of magic that goes beyond floating lights and disappearing art.”
“Wouldn’t mind it.” Daryl smiled. “You available?”
Tyler pulse beat in his throat as he stepped forward, compelled to stop her flirtation with Daryl. He stopped himself when she spoke next.
“I am.” She rested a hand on her chest and sighed dramatically. “My heart’s a different story.”
Daryl’s response was quick. “Maybe you’re the one in need of magic.”
“That’s exactly what we’re all here for.” She chuckled and pointed to the painting. “Now, why don’t you check out that painting for real?”
Daryl ran his hands along the frame, knocked on it, studying the painting more closely, before facing Taryn. “It’s solid.”
With his assurance granted that the painting was not a prop, he returned to his spot in the crowd. Thanking him, Taryn moved up to the painting and Martina walked out, rolling a table before her.
It wasn’t the normal cut-a-woman-in-half table, either. Suspended a few inches over the table, from one side to another, was a track holding a saw. There were clamps, much like those used on an easel, to hold the painting in place.
Telling a story about the history of the illusion she was doing, Taryn helped Martina move the painting from the easel it had been on to the table. After securing it with the clamps, Martina lifted two power cords and made a great show of plugging them in together.
Watching closely, Tyler tried to figure out how she was going to cut the painting in half without actually destroying it. He could figure out most anything on a computer, but how she was doing her illusions remained a mystery. It could be fun trying to talk her out of her secrets. Later.
The saw’s whir was loud in the quiet room, the sound echoing off the concrete floor. It moved slowly across the table. The wood split and filled the air with the scent of sawdust. Canvas ripped. The audience winced and held their breath.
Tyler wasn’t much into art, and he knew it was all an act, but he found he was holding his breath along with the rest of them. Even after she showed the damaged painting and then magically repaired it, he hadn’t figured it out.
Every other illusion was just as smooth. On a stage, with lights and distance separating her and the audience, she could more easily hide her tricks. With a truly random audience very involved in each illusion and close enough to see how things worked, her skills were tested. She excelled.
Her second illusion was to du
plicate a bust of Frank Sinatra, but her third illusion, the simplest to figure out since he had the inside track on her crew, was somehow the most impressive. The sculpture he’d been standing by became the prop.
Promising to transport herself and the sculpture to the other side of the room, she asked him and a couple members from the audience to help raise a silk sheet around the piece. Continuing to make it all an entertaining story, she walked around the curtain, with the sculpture inside it. Then, on her cue, they dropped the sheet. The sculpture was gone and she’d vanished.
The room filled with gasps, but a second later it filled with cheers and applause when she called attention to herself at her new spot in the back of the room where she, Kimber, stood beside the sculpture. Tyler really wanted to know how she pulled it off, because he’d been closest to the back of the sheet and she hadn’t moved the piece out the back. They were on a concrete floor, so she couldn’t have lowered it to raise it in another spot. So how?
He could only come up with one answer and it was one the audience seemed to share. Quite simply, the woman was amazing.
As he always did, Davio packed up the props while Taryn went to change into her street clothes. Kimber was already makeup free and brushing the curls out of her hair when Taryn entered.
“Did you know the FBI was here?” Kimber asked immediately when she entered. Without giving Taryn a chance to respond, she went on. “What could I have done to make them think I’m some kind of thief?”
The clothes, while not as loose as she normally wore, could be ignored much easier than the weight of the makeup, so Taryn reached for the makeup wipes. “They’re Feds, Kimber. They mistrust everyone, but if you think about it, it makes sense that they’d be here.”
“What?” her friend shrieked. “You think I’m guilty?”
“No,” Taryn corrected automatically. “That is not what I meant, and I don’t think you’re a thief.” Taking the truth a step further, because she thought it would help her friend feel better, she added, “I’ve been questioned by them too.”
