THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC (15 page)

“More drama!” she finally demanded. “I watched those TV shows in the break room. The dancers did more than walk back and forth.”

“I do patterns,” he informed her, “not creativity.”

She pulled loose from one of his hands and swiveled on her own, as if she’d been made for dancing, even if she threw her head back and kicked when she shouldn’t. She stayed in time with the music. Her flirty skirt teased at slim legs, her smile beamed with the force of a thousand stars and maybe a moon thrown in.

He was making her happy.

A little warm ball of pleasure grew in his gut watching Nadine enjoy herself.

They were just filling time until her sister arrived, right?

Nadine thought she would self-destruct if she took one more beat-step where Magnus drew her into his arms and pressed her close. She wanted to say to heck with dancing, yank his head down, and kiss him until every cell in his body hummed as hers did.

Instead, she threw herself into the music, making him frown by screwing up his confident lead and smooth patterns.

A man who could dance! Her heart skipped a beat just thinking of what it would be like to spin across a floor to pounding music with Maximus Grandus holding her as if she were truly special.

She would never know. So she needed to find a better outlet for her energy. After the big oaf swept her out of one more wild swing, she grabbed his biceps, shoved him back until he freed her waist, and ran off to the CD cabinet. She knew nothing about musicians, but she grabbed a disc from the shelf marked
rock
and slammed it into the player.

A blaring guitar and pounding drum beat vibrated the enormous room from half a dozen speakers. Elated, Nadine beat her hands in the air, swung her hips to the music, and just moved where the rhythm took her.

Magnus stared at her in puzzlement.

The poor man needed
patterns
to express himself.

Maybe she ought to thank him for finding her sister by helping him break out of his frozen life. He’d had all the freedom she’d ever craved, and he crammed it into a little box smaller than the one the general had kept her in.

Nadine danced circles around him. She teased his hair, grabbed his hand and lifted his arm to dance under it, then tauntingly danced backward.

That last move finally snagged his trigger. Tarzan stalked her as she swirled across the floor. Psychology classes hadn’t taught her anything about male behavior, but instinct did—men liked to hunt.

She swung around and shimmied her ass at him. Shake that booty! Just before he could grab her, she side-stepped and danced around him again.

His arm whipped out and caught her anyway, sweeping her off her high heels. With his arm firmly around her waist and her feet off the floor, Magnus rocked her around the room, still sticking to beats more than rhythm.

It didn’t matter. From this lofty position, Nadine daringly kissed his taut jaw. He’d taken time to shave, and she missed the bristles. He lowered her just enough so that he could run his hand into her hair.

“You need your wild mane back,” he muttered. “This is too tame and shiny.”

Before she could smack him, he kissed her. He kept moving to the music but his mouth didn’t miss a beat either.

The man knew how to light fires, slow lavish fires with sweeping tongue and hungry mouth.

The song changed to a slower one with a seductive rhythm that her Tarzan adapted to quickly. The pulsating beat rocked their hips together, and his big hand slid upward from her waist to brush her breast. Ecstasy pulsed with the music.

He terrified her. He intrigued her. She’d never been so confused and shaken in her sheltered life.

The doorbell rang. It was too soon for Vera to have reached them.

Nadine hastily shoved away, biting her lip and worriedly glancing around, still slightly dazed but realizing something was wrong.

Magnus cursed, tucked his shirt back in, and stalked for the front door, apparently not afraid of whoever had intruded.

Another lesson learned: normal people weren’t afraid of doorbells.

Processing half a dozen reasons why she ought to be afraid—including the fact that no one knew they were here and the security guard used an intercom to notify them of visitors—she cautiously followed Magnus the Magnificent.

She breathed a little—only a little—easier when the door opened on Conan and Dorrie.

“Pippa and Granny are arguing over the feng shui benefits of waterfalls over flowers. We left when they started talking about diverting rivers,” Dorrie explained, waving hello, then staring in disbelief at the atrium waterfall.

“Well, hell, we could have just brought them here,” Conan said, following her gaze.

Dorrie started to giggle. Nadine wanted to laugh with her, but she wasn’t entirely certain that she understood the joke. She’d almost been feeling
normal
with Max, but confronted with relative strangers, she shrank back into her usual nerdish self.

“And you drove down the mountain just to escape wedding planners?” Magnus asked, crossing his arms and staring down at his younger brother.

“Of course not. We want to meet Nadine’s sister, see what drove her off, and then put the general behind bars before the wedding so we can enjoy ourselves.” Dorrie smiled confidently at Magnus, then peered around him to Nadine. “Is he behaving himself?”

“I’m learning to dance,” Nadine said carefully, trying to judge the direction of the social waters.

“Is that what they call it now?” Conan asked enigmatically. “Thought we’d warn you that the police impounded the Camaro. They questioned me and they want to question you. I told them the car had been stolen while you were on a camping trip in the Sierras, and I’d have you call when you checked in. But they’ve got nothing. It’s our car, so if it holds our prints, it’s no biggie. My guy wiped everything, but if they find Nadine’s prints, big shrug. They have nothing to track her so-called kidnapper. For all they know, she drove it herself.”

“I want my car back in one piece,” Magnus growled. “That’s a big deal. Did you find anything in the general’s archives that we sent you?”

“Ran them through everything I’ve got,” Conan said. “They’re old. Most of the addresses have been abandoned. Haven’t found a pattern yet. I’ve got more people looking.”

“Shit. He may have scientists buried like he almost had me and Bo,” Magnus reminded him. “I want the bastard stopped.”

Conan made an inelegant noise that Nadine loosely translated as
So what else is new.
His phone buzzed before he said more, and he answered it while aiming unerringly for the kitchen.

“He’s trying to wrap up segments of two important projects before the wedding,” Dorrie explained, falling into step with Nadine when Magnus followed on his brother’s heels. “We were hoping to get away afterward, just the two of us with no phones or computers.”

Which wouldn’t happen if they feared the general, Nadine realized. And the general would be breathing down their necks if he knew the Oswins had anything to do with her disappearance—which he did if the police were impounding their getaway car.

“Way to lay a guilt trip,” Nadine muttered. “Vera and I owe you big time, but do we owe you our lives?”

Dorrie looked startled. “Not shy, are we?”

Nadine thought about it. “No. I just don’t know social boundaries. I never really had a reason to care before. Computers are my boon companions.”

“And how’s Magnus taking that?” Dorrie asked in amusement. They lingered in the kitchen door while the men grabbed beer and inspected the refrigerator. “He’s not really a computer type.”

“Magnus has his own hang-ups. If I can hack one of the general’s servers, I’ll gladly take out his entire network. So far, I haven’t found a way into his new set-ups. Beyond that, what do you think Vera and I can do to help you find the general? I’m warning you now, I don’t think he
can
be found, not physically, unless you’re a government official with unlimited authority.”

Dorrie watched her surfer-dude fiancé with affection as he piled sandwich makings on the table. “Do not underestimate Conan. What officialdom he can’t tap legally, he can hack. Your fear prevents you from seeing your stepfather as human, but he is. We’ve foiled him before.
You’ve
helped us.”

“Conan hasn’t been able to hack Jo-jo,” Nadine reminded her. She had difficulty believing the beer-swigging Conan, leaning against the counter and belching, could hack his own e-mail account. He winked at Dorrie, clinked beer bottles with Magnus, and wrapped a piece of bread around a hunk of meat rather than prepare a proper sandwich.

But Nadine had a good idea of all he’d accomplished and took Dorrie’s word for the rest. “Appearances are deceiving, I suppose,” she said with a sigh, riffling the short hair at her nape and trying to understand why she was resisting.

“Exactly,” Dorrie said with approval. “I like your hair cut. Now we can see your face better.”

Nadine was about to ask why anyone would
want
to see her face, then decided that was one of those non-social questions she shouldn’t ask. She glanced to Magnus for help, but he was being his usual non-communicative self.

“I’m not good at small talk,” she finally admitted. “Computers don’t talk back—or if they do, I can shut them down without offending them.”

“Then you and Magnus must be having a fine old time, out-silencing each other,” Dorrie replied with a grin. “Frankie didn’t mention any problem conversing with you.”

“Francesca? That’s because we had a job to do. That’s not small talk. That’s problem solving.” And getting drunk, but she probably wouldn’t try that as a curative for her lack of social skills.

Dorrie tilted her head and regarded her with interest. “Your chi
roils with energy. You’re strong, maybe stronger than Magnus right now. I think losing his fiancée ate at his soul.”

Nadine glowered. “I think his fiancée was an emotional vampire who
ate
his soul before killing herself in hopes of killing him.”

Dorrie’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Are you sure you can’t read chi?”

“I read people enough to avoid the negative ones.” Nadine couldn’t fight her curiosity any more. “Are you saying you can
read
a person’s chi?”

“That’s what I’m saying, yes,” Dorrie said almost defiantly. “My grandmother has the same ability, along with some of Frankie’s psychic talent.”

“And what kind of chi is Magnus giving off right now?”

Dorrie laughed. “I don’t need to read him to know he’s hot and bothered and trying not to look this way. Your lack of small talk must turn him on.”

“We were dancing. Or trying to.” Nadine finally entered the kitchen to appropriate the bread and sandwich fixings the men had ignored after taking what they wanted. She didn’t need to read chi to know Magnus was as physically aware of her as she was of him.

“Maximus Grandus wants to attend your wedding. I’m not sure it’s safe.” Nadine said.

“Your concern has always been for others. I can see that.” Dorrie helped herself and began assembling a line of sandwiches. “The problem lies in interpretation.”

“Interpretation?” Nadine sliced tomatoes and cheese for assembling.

“You think protecting people means removing the danger or luring it away. I prefer direct confrontation and elimination of the problem.”

Nadine tried to imagine that. The bride-to-be wasn’t any larger than she was, probably smaller. Yet Dorrie had been the one to force the Oswins and her entire family to hunt for Magnus and Bo. Dorrie had been shot for her efforts, and still, she hadn’t given up. Behind the pleasant demeanor lingered one strong woman.

“Nadine is more a spider who lurks in dark corners and sets traps,” Magnus offered solemnly, sipping his beer.

“I like that in a woman,” Conan said, lifting his beer in salute. “Silent and unseen.”

Dorrie smacked the bottom of his bottle so it splashed beer in his face. “They were
dancing.
Do you know how to dance?”

“You can’t win no matter how you answer that, bro,” Magnus said with a grin. “The dance floor is all yours. Practice up.”

Dorrie beamed in delight.

Nadine thought she’d curl into a warm puddle of goo just watching the arrogant computer genius melt into a grinning fool as his fiancée dragged him into the other room. Warm feelings were not programmed into her knowledge base.

She finished slicing tomatoes and fixing sandwiches for the crew she hoped was bringing Vera to her.

“We could finish our lessons,” Magnus suggested.

“No, we can’t, not with others watching, not the way we were dancing.” She tilted her head in the direction of the music. “You will note they are playing a slow dance and that they hoped to
get away
after the wedding. One assumes that’s because they don’t get much privacy.”

“I’m starting to understand that problem,” Magnus retorted with feeling, before swigging from his bottle.

“I doubt it,” she retorted. “You’re just wanting action. You haven’t even begun to
think
about anything else. And privacy has more to do with romance and wanting to be with each other than sex.”

“How would you know?” he asked in a challenging tone, helping himself to one of the newly prepared sandwiches.

“I’m reading their minds,” she said airily. “Or maybe I read chi, too.”

He studied her for a minute, then took another bite of sandwich, chewed on his thought while he chewed the bread, then concluded, “You’re messing with my mind. Oz does that. If you could really read minds, you could tell me how close your sister is and if we have time to go upstairs.”

Nadine laughed. She couldn’t help it. She just cracked up. He contentedly ate his sandwich and waited.

“One track mind,” she sputtered. “I’ve read about that but never completely understood until now. Jo-jo is obsessive, but his means of achieving his goals are multitudinous, so I never quite observed the simplicity of the normal male mind. I’m a turmoil of conflicting needs and fears and planning. You just stand there, feed your face, and want sex.”

“Life is simpler taking it one minute at a time,” he said with a shrug of his big shoulders. “We can’t make your sister arrive faster. We can’t plan until we learn what set her running. Fear is a total waste of time. Give me a problem and I’ll look for a solution. Right now, we have no problem.”