Do You Believe in Magic

chapter THIRTEEN



The next morning, Francie opened her eyes before her alarm clock buzzed. Instead of her usual grogginess, she was completely awake, she realized as she stretched. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. It didn’t mean that she had to get up, though. Today was Saturday, after all. She turned the pillow over, rearranged the covers, and wallowed in the luxury of being able to remain in bed.

She closed her eyes and tried going back to sleep, but the evening before persisted in replaying itself in her memory. She had thoroughly enjoyed dinner and conversation with Clay. It had been almost like a real date, not something to keep the fiction of their relationship alive for Tamara and Kevin. She was glad this deception was almost over. She hated Kevin for what he was doing to Tamara and, by extension, to herself. If it hadn’t been for Clay and his computer wizardry, she might have been blamed for Kevin’s chicanery. As for Clay . . .

She pulled her mind away from him and toward the problem of the hacker. Setting up the trap the way he did, Clay was certainly handling Kevin well. Now if everything went as planned, the police would catch Kevin on tape and arrest him and this farce would be finished. He’d be out of Tamara’s life for good.

She made a mental note: after Kevin was gone, both she and Tamara should have their locks changed.

And what about Tamara? Please, she pleaded, let Tamara understand why no one told her what Kevin was up to. Let her remain my friend.

As for Clay . . . Here she was, back to him again. The man walked in and out of her thoughts like he owned them, like he had set up housekeeping in her head, she grumbled to herself. But . . .

What in the world had happened to her last night? They had been sitting there, carrying on a conversation about Kevin, then he invited her over to show her how he programmed his hacker-catching applications. She was feeling really good, with a warm glow in her middle from good Mexican food and the anticipation of learning his methods. Nothing itched or ached.

Then he was touching her, and she could have sworn energy was flowing between them. What a crazy idea!

If that were not enough, and despite her intentions to keep her distance, he’d kissed her, and she’d simply . . . simply disintegrated.

Wow, had he kissed her. This one had been devastating. Overwhelming. Enchanting. Wonderful. Magical. Just as his other kisses had been.

No, more so.

When his lips touched hers, her brain turned into mush, and her body into a willing participant in whatever he wanted to do with it. More than willing. Eager, enthusiastic, enraptured. The man cast a spell, and she was bewitched.

Her body had felt wonderful, warm, happy, right where it wanted to be. Her insides seemed to be singing, her heart was blissful. Colored lights surrounded them, rippling through rainbow hues, intensifying as his kiss had.

Where had her mind been? Off in outer space with the aliens again. She couldn’t have stopped that kiss. She’d have to be paying attention with a conscious mind to do that. Conscious? Phooey! She couldn’t even remember going to bed, but she must have because here she was, and it was morning.

She moved restlessly on the smooth sheets and rubbed her rib cage, then crossed her arms over her chest, her hands holding her breasts. They tingled. She rubbed herself through her nightgown, but it made the tingling worse, and she quickly let go when she realized what she was doing.

“Oh, God,” she groaned aloud. She was turning into a sex-crazed, blithering idiot. She drew her legs up and hugged her knees.

Why was she so attracted to this one man? She’d never, ever had such a reaction before. Sure, he was tall and good-looking, but so were many others. She especially liked his silver eyes and the way they lit up, then darkened when he looked at her.

He was honest and had loads of integrity, she was certain in her bones about that. What was the rule for when they were alone? “No camouflage, only the truth?”

They got along well together. She was surprised to have so much in common with him—computers, basketball, political opinions, so many of the same likes and dislikes. He came from a stable family, and she liked that because she did also. He was kind; look how he had immediately asked if she wanted to bring Tamara along for dinner last night. Would any other man have made the offer? And meant it?

He was certainly intelligent. And he respected her own smarts. What had he said about her being one of the few people who could understand his programming? A high compliment, indeed.

Her friends liked him. Their acceptance said a lot to her. None of them had ever liked Walt.

Clay was also sympathetic. He understood her anguish over Tamara and the possibility of hurting her best friend. And he soothed her fears and wouldn’t let her take on the blame for Kevin’s actions. He seemed interested in her, for herself, not just because of the excitement of catching Kevin.

Could she be reading the situation wrong, by thinking he would leave after this mess was over? Might he still want to be together?

He wasn’t like Walt, not by a long shot. Was she assuming he would be? Just because he was good-looking? Just because she had been hurt once before? The answers in her head were leaning heavily toward “yes.”

He wasn’t pushing her into bed like Walt had. In fact, he was always the one to halt their kisses, despite his obvious desire. He hadn’t been faking his reaction. Why then was he taking it so slowly, especially when she wouldn’t have done anything to stop him? Last night she had practically crawled all over him.

Practically? Be honest. She had been on top of the man and had almost had an orgasm right there on her couch.

Maybe it was better for both of them he had left when he did. Despite the attraction, despite the . . . oh, she might as well admit it, despite her raging desire, her almost frantic need, she really didn’t know if she was ready to make the leap to bed. Something she couldn’t identify, couldn’t quite get at, was holding her back. What was it?

No voice spoke from above, or even in her head, to give her an answer. No surprise there. She had to laugh at herself for even asking the question. Her stomach gave a little flutter, and she rubbed it slowly. Even her incipient ulcer seemed calm today.

Okay, what did all this mean? What conclusion did she come to after all this thinking? Oh, how she wished she could talk all this over with Tamara. Her friend certainly had more experience with men and might understand more about what was going on.

Everything seemed to come down to the question: What was real here?

She had always prided herself on her ability to see things as they actually were. To base her thinking and her actions on reality, on facts, where the only fantasy was in the games she played and the books she read. Granted, the episode with Walt had taught her how to do that. Painfully. So painfully, in fact, she had cut herself off from men and the possibility of being hurt again.

Maybe she had been wrong to do it. Tamara had certainly fussed at her often enough about her self-imposed “seclusion.” Now, with Clay, she was beginning to feel like she was waking up after a long sleep. Returning to the world of men and women and possibilities. Not of being hurt, but of finding someone just for her. A mate.

A mate? What an old-fashioned word. Where did the thought come from?

What about the other old-fashioned word, love?

Love. Was she falling in love with Clay?

No, certainly not. Not on the basis of a few dates and four kisses. Not a conclusion she even wanted to ponder.

Coward! jeered something inside her. She ignored it.

Rubbing the pesky itch again plaguing her, Francie rose from bed and headed toward the shower. She had to get moving if she was due at the haircutter’s at one and then Clay’s. As she dried off, she let herself wonder about his house. Would it be a typical bachelor place, with little furniture and no decorations, a refrigerator full of beer and leftover pizza? He’d have a killer computer setup, of course. She couldn’t wait to see how he programmed that trap for Kevin.

As she turned on the water, she wondered briefly what he wanted to talk about so much today.