the woman who might be Nicky reach her destination. There was another woman there nursing a margarita. He had to wait for a shift in the lights, but … yes! That was Tammy, Nicky’s younger sister. He was sure of it. After all, he’d lived down the block from the Taylor family for years. He knew all of Nicky’s family, had trick-or-treated at their house, had even shared a yearly Christmas potluck. He knew them the way he knew how to construct a saw-the-lady-in-half illusion. The woman at the table was Tammy, which meant the other woman—the blonde with the overstuffed briefcase—was Nicky Taylor. Here at amateur night. Of all the dumb luck!
Anticipation tightened his gut. Or was that fear? He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw in disgust. He’d gotten past the nausea that came with painful shyness the day he’d received his first six-figure check. He’d even forced himself up on stage at his brother’s bar just to make sure he could overcome his fear of public speaking. But one look at Nicky’s long legs in killer black pumps, and he was right back in high school complete with gut-churning panic. Back then he’d resorted to the fantasy of being a magician, of mesmerizing all in his path with his suave charm. Now he was a man and a millionaire. He did not need to hide in fantasy to talk to a woman. Even if that woman was Nicky Taylor, the girl who’d owned his heart since he was twelve.
He had to find a way to talk to her, to have that shot he’d missed in high school. But how? A dozen scenarios spun through his brain, each growing more far-fetched. In the end, he cut off his overactive reasoning. That had been his problem in high school: too much thinking and too little action. By the time he’d worked up the perfect plan to seduce Nicky Taylor, they’d already graduated and gone on to college. Tonight he would keep it simple.
He would magic her into his arms.
2
“AND NOW for my greatest trick …”
Nicky barely heard the magician’s prattle. Her attention was focused on her latest e-mail as she hit Next Page on her phone. Professor Thompson was a no-show. Or rather, he’d shown but left when Nicky was late. Tammy hadn’t told her, of course. Her little sister had this misplaced idea that Nicky needed some fun in her life. Well, duh. But sitting through amateur night at a bar didn’t qualify. Unfortunately Tammy could be annoyingly insistent, so rather than cause a scene, Nicky had sat down, ordered some wine and promptly buried her nose in her e-mail. It was hard to see in the bar/theater, especially with the flickering flash explosions from the stage, but if she held the phone’s screen about six inches from her nose, she could read well enough.
“I’m going to separate this woman from her phone!”
A hand shot out and swiped her BlackBerry right out of her palm.
“Hey!” Nicky cried out, then she had to blink against the glare of the spotlight. Laughter erupted all around her, most especially from Tammy, who waved her margarita in salute.
“Well, you were being rude,” Tammy said as she winked at the magician.
Nicky acknowledged the hit with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry … umm—” her gaze slipped over to the stage display “—Magic Man.” Was that really his act’s name? “I apologize for saving my career during your magic act.”
“That’s all right. I always forgive beautiful women.” The magician flashed her a killer, megawatt smile. This close up, she could see that he was quite the cutie, in a hometown, wholesome kind of way. Brown eyes, light brown hair, pale white skin. The stage lights weren’t doing him any favors on that score. They seemed to highlight exactly how dark and mysterious he wasn’t. And yet, she responded to him. An image of her island hottie flashed through her brain, and she found herself thinking that if this magician got a good tan and stepped into a short sarong, she could absolutely settle down in the sand next to him. The idea was so strong, her fingers actually itched to see what kind of muscles lay hidden under his tux.
But rather than fondle the main attraction right under the lights, she flashed her own version of a killer smile. “Thank you,” she said, holding out her hand for her phone. “I promise I’ll turn it off now.”
“Hmmm, forgiveness is one thing. Property is something else entirely.” He grinned as he started backing up to the stage, holding her phone hostage as he moved. “Would you care to join me onstage? Perhaps we can let you win your phone back.”
Her fantasy reluctantly faded as her body began to clench. She needed that phone. Just the thought of all the things that could go wrong if she lost it had her close to hyperventilating. “No, no, no. I need that phone.”
“Go on,” encouraged Tammy from behind her margarita. “It’ll be fun.”
Nicky gave her sister a glare. Tammy’s idea of fun was vastly different than her own.
Meanwhile, the Magic Man was beginning to flip through her e-mail. “Let’s see what we have here. Work. Work. Sales info. Factory specs. Yawn.” He dropped the phone in a top hat on his magician’s table. “A beautiful woman shouldn’t be that very boring. I can see why you don’t want it back.”
Nicky was already standing, her hand stretched out. “This isn’t funny,” she said, the constriction in her chest making her breath short and tight. “Please, take my sister. She’s a lot more fun than me.” It wasn’t true of course, or it hadn’t been true before college. She’d been loads of fun then. Why couldn’t she breathe? “Please give me back my phone!”
“Too late!” Tammy quipped as she licked salt off the edge of her drink. “Phone’s gone.”
“No!” Nicky knew it was a trick. After all, this was a stage show. But her phone really was gone! The little magician’s table was empty and the top hat with the phone inside was nowhere in sight. Terror clutched at her chest way out of proportion to the event. Her whole life was in that phone. What if something happened during his flashfire explosions? What if it dropped down a trapdoor and broke?
What if you never got it back, you couldn’t do the work and you were forced to take the rest of the week off because of it?
She winced at that inner voice. She knew its seductive tones, knew it was the voice of her island hottie tempting her to the dark side. And for some bizarre reason, she put the magician’s face on her fantasy man. But she couldn’t do it. She had a job and responsibilities, though the sudden yearning for escape rolled through her mind like a sweet, hot wind. “I really need that back,” she said, hating that her voice was strangled. “It’s my life.”
“Darling, your life has got to be more exciting than this phone,” returned the Magic Man, his voice just as seductively tempting.
Let him have the phone. Let him have it all, her fantasy man whispered.
“I can’t,” Nicky breathed as her hands tightened into fists. She was at the base of the stage now, scanning it for any sign of her BlackBerry. “Just give me my phone back.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” the Magic Man said, pitching his voice to the room at large. “If I can psychically guess your name, then you have to come up onstage and help me out.”
Play with me. That’s what he was saying to her. Come play. How she wanted to. Hot sun, hot oil, hot man. God, it hurt just thinking about it.
“I have to work, and you don’t need to guess anything. My name’s on my phone.”
The
