Mistress of Magic (16 page)

Hadn’t she made it that way herself? she wondered. Wes was staring at her still. His lip curled into a taunting grin, as if he was reading her mind.

Yes, her life had been dinosaurs.

But she had needed the dinosaurs!

And now …

Despite her harsh words, she was afraid she was beginning to need something else. Someone else.

Wes.

Chapter 10

S
he would have spoken then, but he wrapped the towel around her, then walked away. She paused for a moment, breathing deeply.

She walked around from the ladder to the barbecue and picnic table, which were elevated on a brick dais at the left side of the pool. Farther back, there was a screened-in free-standing patio. She’d had it made to avoid the bugs that sometimes came heavily in the summer. She hadn’t wanted the pool screened in, though, even if it did make the maintenance a little tougher and even if there were bugs in summer. She had always loved to be in the water, looking up at the sky.

And tonight, they hadn’t attracted more than a daring fly or two. By the time Reggie walked to the picnic table, Diana had seen to it that all the food was arranged and covered. She’d done a nice job with dinner. There were ribs and chicken, her special baked beans, corn on the cob and a sweet and sour salad. She and Max had eschewed the table to take seats on one of the lounges. Max, with a chicken leg in his fingers, was sitting at the rear of it, and Diana was comfortably leaned against him. Diana popped a cucumber into his mouth, asking if he liked the dressing.

It was nice. It seemed especially domestic, and close, something warm between them. Reggie felt a peculiar fire streak through her, and she was aware, even before she glanced at him, that Wes was watching her, and watching her reaction to the other couple. Just what the hell does Wes want out of me? she wondered irritably.

He hadn’t made his plate of food yet—he was waiting for her to do so. But maybe she was moving too slowly. He stepped beside her, piled his plate high, praising Diana for the meal, then took a seat on another of the pool chairs.

“Want a beer, Wes?” Max asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Reggie, they’re in the cooler there,” Diana said. “Grab one for Wes, will you?”

She gritted her teeth. It was her house. Mmm. And she should be hospitable. Especially because Max and Diana would leave. And then she would be left alone with Wes.

Wes, whom she had angered. And then she had told him he could go …

And she really didn’t want him to walk away on her. To leave her.

He wouldn’t leave her. He had some kind of code of honor that wouldn’t let him do that. He was a cavalier, she reminded herself.

But she didn’t want him to just stay. She wanted him to hold her again.

To sleep with her, to make love to her.

She just didn’t want him to ask questions. And she hated it that he seemed to think the worst of her with no questions asked.

Silently, she handed him a beer. Their fingers brushed. Warmth came sweeping through her. She wanted to sit in front of him, the way Diana was sitting in front of Max. She felt his gaze.

She couldn’t meet his eyes.

She decided to have a beer herself. She popped the top and took a seat at the picnic table, her Dierdre Dinosaur towel wrapped around her waist.

“Tell me what happened again, Reggie,” Diana said suddenly, staring thoughtfully at her ear of corn.

Reggie sighed. She’d explained it so many times. “The robotronic on the love seat wasn’t a robotronic at all. I hung up from talking to you and the figure jumped up and pointed at me and told me that Max was a murderer and that I was going to die.”

“And last night, there was someone in your house,” Diana added.

“It’s as if someone was out to get Regina instead of Max,” Wes said.

“Maybe you should go somewhere safe,” Max said suddenly. “Maybe somebody
is
out to hurt you.”

“I can’t go anywhere!” Reggie said. “I have to stay—I’m filling in for half a dozen employees, remember? Besides, it’s not my ex-wife who is missing.”

“Thank goodness!” Diana said lightly. “That definitely would have set the whole affair in a very strange light!”

Even Reggie smiled.

“Someone is trying to get to Max through Reggie, I think,” Wes said after a moment. “Attack Reggie often enough, and her faith in Max begins to falter.”

Reggie shook her head. “But that would never happen.”

Max sat up, his arms lightly around Diana. Watching the couple, Reggie stiffened miserably.

I want to be held like that! she thought. But she was busy destroying what she had nearly managed to hold.

“Didn’t you wonder, even for a moment, when this—thing suggested that I was a murderer?” Max asked her.

Reggie frowned. “Of course not.”

“But you were frightened, right?” Wes said.

Reggie started to deny it. Those damned eyes of his. She couldn’t do so. “Yes. I suppose I was frightened.” She was beginning to feel cornered by him, and was determined to turn the tables. “What were you doing at the police station all day?”

He waved a hand, the one with his beer in it, in a vague motion. “Things.”

“Like?”

“Checking into people.”

“Like who?”

“Stockholders. People associated with the park. People in your pasts.”

“And have you found anything?”

“Answers are rarely found in a day,” he told her. Then he leaned forward, watching her. “Unless …”

“Unless what?”

“What did you discover today?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Think. Tell me about this figure. Tall? Thin? Heavy? Male or female?”

Reggie frowned. She hadn’t thought about the figure at all, not in those terms. She tried to think. “Medium, I think. No taller than I am.”

“A woman?” Diana asked. “What about the voice?”

Reggie shook her head. “I couldn’t tell. I really couldn’t tell. It was disguised. Hoarse. And I was so frightened.…”

“But still, the height would suggest a woman, right?” Wes said.

“Right,” Reggie agreed reluctantly. Then she stared at him accusingly. “If she was
real
, of course. If I didn’t
imagine
her.”

“Max and I have both said that we don’t think you imagined her, Reggie,” Wes said.

Yes, they had. But they certainly hadn’t believed her at first.

“I think it’s only a matter of time before this person—or these
persons
—trip themselves up,” Diana said determinedly.

Reggie hoped so. She noticed that Wes was staring at Diana, reflecting on her words, intrigued. But Diana seemed to be the eternal optimist that night. “More chicken anyone? Ribs? How about some coffee, decaf or tea?”

“I’ll make the coffee,” Reggie said, standing up. “You did everything else.”

“I didn’t mind,” Diana said. “And you specifically said that you didn’t want to do the cooking tonight.”

“I was tired,” Reggie said hastily. “But really, I feel the need to move at the moment. I’ll put coffee on and pick up a few things here. You relax for a few minutes. With Max.” She had added the last words in a rush, and then she wondered why she had done so. She wasn’t implying that Wes should help her, or that he should leave Max and Diana alone. It was just that the two of them looked so comfortable together, and she really did appreciate all that Diana was doing. Especially the way that she was standing by Max.

“If you want some help—” Diana said.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll mix it up, half decaf and half one of the special blends.”

“There are éclairs in the refrigerator,” Diana told her.

Reggie had collected a few of the plates. She nodded. “You just whipped those up this afternoon, right?”

Diana smiled. “You had the ingredients,” she said apologetically.

“They sound great.”

Reggie hurried toward the house, wondering why she had commented on Diana’s cooking skills. It had to be because she was just a little bit jealous of the, other woman.

Somehow, Diana had made Reggie seem so undomestic tonight. Reggie didn’t know why it mattered. She wasn’t a great cook or housekeeper. That was why she had Mrs. Martin. She was too busy.

And Diana wasn’t that great anyway! she reminded herself. But it bothered her tonight.

Maybe it was because of Wes’s assessment of why she hadn’t married Caleb. He had certainly hit upon something vulnerable within her.

Inside the house she threw away the paper plates she had picked up and tossed the flatware into the sink. She delved into the freezer for the coffee, deciding to mix some French vanilla beans with a decaffeinated Columbian blend. She had pulled out the pot and the water and was grinding the beans when the back door opened and Wes walked in, tossing more plates into the trash and coming over to stand by the counter, watching her. She tensed instantly. She looked quickly from him to the grinder, very aware of how he looked in a pair of Max’s cutoffs, easy and comfortable, torso and arms muscled and bronzed.

She started to shake the beans into the coffee filter and was spilling more than she was getting in. She felt him behind her, gently but firmly taking the grinder from her hands. He completed the task with no further loss of fresh ground coffee. She stood silently watching him, still angry at what he had said but not terribly pleased with her behavior toward him.

“Don’t forget,” he said lightly, “that you’re going to have to apologize very nicely if you want me to bring you to soaring heights of ecstasy again.”

“You’re one egotistical creature,” she retorted, then wished she had kept quiet.

His thumb was on her chin, lifting her head. “It wasn’t the heights of ecstasy?”

She was turning flame red. Worse, her knees were growing very weak. “There are things that I can’t answer now. They hurt.”

“So it was just a little slice of heaven?” he murmured. She looked into his eyes. The warmth was there. The fire. He might have been angry. But he wasn’t holding any of it against her.

“And you are ungodly good-looking,” she agreed in a whisper.

He smiled. “I’m not so egotistical. Honest. I’m like an artist. Look at the canvas you gave me to work on!”

She could scarcely breathe. She felt like falling into his arms right then and there. She managed not to do so. “I am sorry,” she said quickly.

He arched a brow at her, but his smile was still in place. He released her, turned and plugged the coffeepot in, then turned to her, his hands on his hips. “Like I said, I’m sorry, too, Reggie. But if there’s something here, then quit acting as if there isn’t,” he told her.

“I don’t know—”

“You do know,” he said, and walked out.

When he left her, she knew that she desperately wanted there to be something. Something very special. She stared at the closed door. “Yes, you fool!” she whispered after him. “I’ll start to think that there is something, I’ll get involved, and you’ll just—”

Go away.

She clenched her teeth, amazed at the moisture in her eyes. She didn’t even know what she wanted! Just a few more nights of solace, a touch in the dark.

More.

“Damn him!” she whispered. Then she reached into the refrigerator for the éclairs. They were already arranged on a flowered paper platter. Reggie picked them up, found some more paper plates and napkins and started out with them.

She almost crashed into Wes. He was coming in with the barbecue utensils. He walked around her silently, and she could hear him placing the things in the sink, then reaching into her cupboard for cups.

She went out to the picnic table with the éclairs. Diana and Max were talking softly, looking at the sky. Max leaned back in the lounge, his arm lightly around her. They were an attractive couple. Max, so dark and handsome. Diana with her trim figure, short blond hair and pretty, aristocratic features and velvet brown eyes.

Loyal to the core. Diana was even wearing a one-piece Dierdre Dinosaur bathing suit.

“Let me get up and help you with that stuff,” Diana began.

Reggie waved a hand in the air. “Sit tight. You look very comfortable. And Wes is helping.”

Wes
was
helping. He was coming out with the brewed coffee and cups on a tray. Reggie started toward the house with the barbecue sauce, salt, pepper and salad bowl balanced in her arms.

“Grab milk and sugar,” he told her. She nodded.

When she came out with them, he was seated at the picnic table, his legs straddled over the bench. She set the cream and sugar on the tray, then hesitated briefly before sitting beside him.

Close beside him.

She felt his eyes on her as she poured coffee into four cups. Diana roused herself to get a cup, black with sugar, for herself, and one with cream, sugarless, for Max. Wes helped himself to a cup, his fingers idly moving over the rim. Reggie lifted a cup for herself, tasted the coffee and stared at Wes’s chest.

She wanted to lean against it. Just to lean against him and look at the moon, feel the breeze and his arms around her.

They had made love so passionately, so intimately. But now, something that was so natural and warm seemed far too assuming for her to do.

But she was still staring at his chest. She felt his eyes on hers, and she lifted her gaze to him. And, as if he had read her thoughts, he reached out an arm. His hand came around her middle, fingers splayed over her midriff, and he pulled her against him. Her heart missed a beat. She eased back, feeling his chin on the top of her head. She closed her eyes, amazed at the sense of security and comfort that filled her.

This was good.

And she didn’t mind that Max was looking; she didn’t care that anyone saw.

“Reggie, you do make the best coffee in the world,” Diana told her.

Reggie smiled. At least she could make coffee.

“Thanks,” she told Diana.

“Want to hit the Jacuzzi for a few minutes?” Diana asked Max. “Then we should really go. It’s getting late, and you all have long days ahead of you.”

The two of them were up, heading for the Jacuzzi that waterfalled into the main body of the pool from the shallow end.

Reggie didn’t speak. She sipped more coffee, then felt Wes’s fingers lightly moving down her cheek.