Chapter Four

Four shots of tequila with the redhead—and his idea of keeping things within sane limits blown to hell—and he was ready to do whatever she asked. But he’d never been the kind of man who was afraid to take a risk. “Okay.”

Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected him to agree, but he’d spent a good chunk of his life shirtless, so it never bothered him. But the showman in him refused to just sit there and take it off. Instead, he stood up, stepping away from the table so that she had a clear line of sight to him.

Then he started by undoing the cuffs of his button-down shirt.

She turned her chair for a better view, stretching her bare legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles. He noticed her toenails were painted a deep shade of red. She crossed her arms under her breasts, which just made the fabric of her sleep shirt pull taut over her chest. He forced his eyes higher, locking gazes with her. Her brown eyes seemed shot with gold, and honestly, he’d spent way too much time tonight trying to come up with the right word to describe them. They weren’t hazel, weren’t brown, but something that was uniquely Zelda.

He reached for the first button on his shirt and felt his fingers brush his silver medallion. It was a coin that his grandmother had given to him when he’d turned thirteen, and his granddad had had it made into a charm. He slowly continued to undo his buttons, watching her watch him the whole time. She might have picked a casual pose, but he noticed the way she leaned forward as each button revealed more of his skin.

He finally had the last button undone and stood there for a minute in front of her. “Is this enough?”

She shook her head. “Uh, no way.”

He almost smiled, feeling turned on but also just enjoying this unexpected night.

He tugged at the cuff of his right sleeve and drew the shirt down and then off. Hearing her gasp, he glanced up to see her biting her lower lip.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to be even better-looking than your posters.”

“Am I?”

“Hell’s bells,” she said. “I half expected that the images I’d seen of you online were airbrushed. But damn, boy, you are ripped.”

He did smile at that, starting to feel a little self-conscious. He put his hand low on his abdomen. “Did you Google me?”

“Yes. I’m not going to deny it. I searched the heck out of your name. I needed to know exactly who you were.”

“What did you think?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. You do seem to be very good at fooling people, which makes me wonder if I can trust anything I see with you,” she said.

Her honesty surprised him, but he knew it shouldn’t have. Zelda wasn’t like other people. There was a quirkiness to her that he found irresistible…which was probably the reason he was standing shirtless in her kitchen.

He spread his arms wide and turned around. “I have nothing up my sleeve.”

“Well, I guess that puts me in my place,” she said.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling a bit exposed. It was silly, really, given how much time he spent shirtless, but that was onstage, just part of the show. But in the close confines of her kitchen, with her watching him… It felt different. Intimate.

He could see desire in her eyes, but that was easy to read. From the time he’d been seventeen, women had wanted him, and he’d learned that had been an easy way to not feel lonely. At seventeen, that had been fine. At thirty, he knew it for the illusion it was. He’d still be lonely when he woke up. These days, he was a lot choosier about who he took to his bed.

Zelda with her chocolaty brown eyes, winsome smile, and red hair definitely set him on fire, but there was more. Would sex help or hinder in his need to uncover the mystery of Zelda Quincy?

He could hear Dare’s voice in his head, calling him a pussy for not sleeping with her.

But he wanted more than one night with this woman.

“You’re staring at me.”

“I know,” he said. He had to stop overanalyzing this. She’d specifically said she wasn’t sure she could trust him but she hadn’t mentioned her own trust-worthiness. “Why didn’t you tell me that I could trust you?”

He sat back down across the table from her, pulling the tequila closer and taking another shot because he wanted to. He hadn’t meant to let things get this personal. But tequila.

“Would you have believed me?” she asked.

“Answering a question with a question… Very evasive, Zelda. What are you trying to hide?” he asked.

“I’ll take a shot,” she said, doing just that.

Hmm. So she was hiding something and not about to pretend she wasn’t. Knowing that, could he go forward with this attraction? Would that be enough to insulate him from disappointment later?

When had sex gotten so complicated? But he knew that after Jade, he’d changed. Being betrayed by his lover had cut him deeper than he’d wanted to admit. She’d left plenty of scars.

When he was twenty-five, Nicholas had been enjoying some real success as a double act with Jade Simmons. Leo and Nicholas had designed all of the illusions and stunts themselves, and a television producer had come on board to produce a show featuring their act. Jade and Nicholas had always alternated doing the illusions.

Their illusions were very different—the sheer physicality of the stunts that Nicholas performed was impossible for Jade to replicate. He thought they made a good team. So when the TV producer had made a play for Jade, Nicholas had seen red and wanted to break the contract. But Jade had assured him it was nothing.

That was why Leo and Nicholas had both been surprised when the contract was canceled and they learned that Jade was doing her own show. She’d been blunt, telling Nicholas that she couldn’t miss her big break. And he’d just let her go, even though it meant starting over from scratch.

He’d vowed to never let a woman do that to him again. And he’d never met a woman who affected him the way Jade had until now. Until Zelda.

Could he have her and just keep it about sex?

“What are you thinking?” she asked. “Don’t get me wrong. The way you keep looking at me is a turn-on, but it’s also a little unnerving.”

…

She hadn’t meant to be so blunt and wanted to blame it on the tequila, but honestly, she thought it might be more about Nicholas than the booze. His bright blue eyes had mesmerized her the moment she’d gotten close enough to see them. There wasn’t an easy way to explain how he made her feel, but that didn’t bother her. He was different.

He’d proven it tonight when he’d taken the time to come and leave something for Stetson. He owed them nothing. Not her nor her friends, and yet he’d come. There was more to him than met the eye, but what? And why had he come into her life now?

She’d known the Houdini water chest was an omen. She never apologized for the feeling she had in her gut. When she’d seen it for sale, it had almost jumped out at her. She had to have it. She hadn’t understood why in that moment, and she still didn’t, but it had led Nicholas to her.

There had to be more between them than just this red-hot attraction. Still, she wasn’t about to drop her guard—the secrets in her past were big ones. She knew she had some karma to make right and was always looking for the universe to send her a sign.

She liked the way this Nicholas Pine sign looked.

“Sex.”

“Huh?” She’d literally been staring at his pecs and thinking about how those big biceps would feel under her fingers as he moved over her.

“You asked what I was thinking about,” he explained. Then he arched one eyebrow at her. “What are you thinking about?”

“You. On top of me,” she said, then put her hand over her mouth. Damn tequila. “Sorry. I mean I was thinking that, but I would never have said it out loud. Too many shots,” she said.

She took the bottle and stood up, grabbing her chair to drag it behind her across the kitchen, but Nicholas was there, putting his hand over hers. “I’ll put it up for you. But for the record, I’m glad you were honest. I’m not a fan of people who don’t say what they mean.”

She had leaned back against the table to have the best view as he moved across the kitchen to the cabinet above the stove. He stretched to reach it, and the muscles on his back rippled as he placed the tequila on the shelf and pushed it to the back. His pants slid lower on his hips as he stretched, and she was staring at his butt when he turned around.

“Like what you see?”

“Very much,” she said. “You do not disappoint, Mr. Pine.”

“Happy to oblige,” he said, leaning back against the counter half a room away, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She was halfway to him when she realized what she was doing.

She had needed tequila to help her forget her nightmare and the lingering guilt that plagued her from the past, but she was playing a dangerous game, starting this with Nicholas. He was tied to a world she’d done her best to escape—the world of magic. There was no way he was going to suddenly walk away from being an illusionist.

Even if she was willing to believe he would, the sigil tattoo on his wrist was glaring proof that illusion was in his blood. He was in the Guild of Ancient Magic—a brotherhood that had a lifetime membership. She found it hard to look at the tattoo without remembering seeing it on her father’s wrist and the one she’d covered up with the black rose.

Damn.

She hated magic.

She should never have opened the Pandora’s box that was the Houdini water chest. She’d known the moment she’d bid on it at the online auction house. But she also hadn’t been able to resist.

“I think you should go, Mr. Pine, before I do something that we both might regret in the morning.”

“Why do you keep calling me Mr. Pine?” he asked.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said sardonically. “But I sense there is more to your attitude than that.”

“I’m trying to avoid throwing myself at you. I thought keeping it formal might help.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Is it working?”

Not really. But some latent self-preservation warned her not to say that out loud. “Why?”

“I just wondered if I should start calling you Ms. Quincy.”

She knew that there wasn’t anything sweet in what he said, but it touched her the same way that him watching Stetson do a magic trick had. She liked him.

It didn’t matter that he was part of a group of people she’d sworn to never let into her life again. It didn’t matter that he was a magician and was probably more flash than substance. It did matter that he had a smile that made her feel warm and that he smelled like rain and that he’d always followed her lead in conversations, even when she said something over-the-top.

“No, I don’t think so,” she admitted.

“So, what should we do about this inconvenient attraction?”

“Well, I have a ‘no magicians in my bed’ rule.”

“That is a statement begging for questions that I know you don’t want to answer,” he said. “What about ‘magicians in the kitchen’? Seems like you might be okay with that.”

She groaned. No, she wasn’t okay with it, but she also had known from the moment she’d opened her front door and let him into her house that she wasn’t going to shove him out before morning unless he’d wanted to go.

Clearly, he didn’t.

“I never made a rule about that,” she admitted.

“Good. Because I have an ‘always with women who run magic collectibles shops in the kitchen’ rule.”

She started laughing and couldn’t stop. It had been years since she’d felt this kind of joy with anyone.

…

Nicholas told himself he was going into this with his eyes fully open. He knew she was hiding something, but that was okay. Right now, they were casual acquaintances. But after this night… Well, who knew? He hoped they would have more, but there were no guarantees.

But until he had his chest, until his show opened, tequila and kitchens were probably the most he could offer her.

The chest had been his talisman from the beginning, and those in his inner circle had known it, including Jade. Leo was convinced she’d taken it…but then, where had Zelda found hers? A new wrinkle in the drama. Though he couldn’t have guessed that the person selling the chest would be this quirky redhead.

“Of course, now that we’ve talked about it…it’s odd, right?” he asked. He didn’t want to assume that they were both on the same page just because she’d said yes to him in the kitchen. He didn’t want her to ever feel pressured to have sex with him.

But if she kicked him out of her house, he was going to be in a hell of a lot of pain. He might actually have to take care of himself before he drove home.

“It is odd, but I still want you, Nicholas,” she said.

He liked the way she said his name. Mr. Pine had sounded very businesslike, but Nicholas… Her tone softened, and she tipped her head to the side to smile at him as she said the word.

“I want you too, Zelda,” he said.

He straightened and took a step toward her. He moved carefully, though now that she’d confirmed she wanted him, his mind was fixed on her. He knew how to make his audience wait for the payoff and had learned that most things were better with a little anticipation. But with this woman, he wasn’t sure he could keep his control.

She chewed her bottom lip between her teeth, reminding him that he hadn’t even kissed her yet. He’d seen her mouth in many erotic dreams, as well as some daydreams during meetings with his partners, but that had been all fantasy.

He had no idea what she’d taste like or what her lips would feel like under his. Suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. He rounded the corner of the island, putting one hand on the counter to keep himself from hauling her into his arms. He didn’t want to come at her like a Siegfried & Roy tiger.

She stepped closer and ran her fingertip along his delineated muscle. Her touch sent electricity pulsing through his body, making his nipples and his cock harden.

He felt her exhalation against his chest and put his other hand on her hip, drawing her closer to him, forcing himself to keep his touch light when what he wanted was to haul her into his arms. But she was still giving off a tentative vibe, so he’d play it cool…for now.

The fabric of her nightshirt was soft and faded. And up close, she smelled of summer and flowers. He groaned.

She glanced up, and their eyes met. He saw mystery in her gaze—he had expected that—but also something more. She was making light of this, but obviously, to her, the “no magicians” thing was real.

He knew he should walk away. He started to pull back, but she curved her hand around his upper arm and took a gliding step toward him, going up on tiptoe and brushing his lips with hers.

His mind shut down, and his instincts took over. Putting his arm around her waist, he drew her up against him and was blown away by sensations—the fullness of her breasts against his chest, the way her thighs rubbed against his own. She put her free hand on his chest, and her fingers pushed against him as she used him for balance.

He lowered his head and finally kissed her. Her lips were soft and pliant under his, and he opened his mouth, feeling the rush of hot air before her tongue brushed over his.

She tasted better than he imagined, and he spread his fingers, cupping her backside and bringing her more fully against him as he deepened the kiss. She angled her head to give him more access and wrapped one of her legs around his. Her other hand slid up his chest, her fingers lightly caressing his skin as they moved upward, reaching around to stroke the nape of his neck.

He felt his cock jump as her hips rubbed over the ridge of his erection. She moaned, a soft sound that came from the back of her throat, then did it again. The sound seemed to spur something in him, and he lifted her off her feet and onto the island.

They were eye to eye now, and she wrapped both arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. In her eyes, he saw ghosts and memories, but they were also lit by the same fire that was burning him alive. He leaned forward, claiming her mouth again, then grabbed her waist and pulled her to him until he could feel the heat from her center against his abdomen. Her ankles linked behind his hips, and her hands held his jaw as they both lost themselves in the kiss. He tangled his hand in her thick red hair and suddenly realized how badly he wanted to claim her as his own.