Impractical Magic Part 6

"Let me think about it," she said finally. She needed a plan before she gave him an answer.

"Very well." Ewan nodded, an abrupt movement. "We will meet again."

His gaze bored into hers, adding to the warm tingle within her, then abruptly he disappeared.

"Oh, man." Sequoia sank onto the edge of her bed, glad growing up with Rose had exposed her to these sudden departures. Her already rapid heart rate couldn't stand any more.

Now, that was a faery-far more than she'd ever expected. Though she knew that Rose's mother and Brand's father had both once been Fae, she'd always seen them as regular people, and she'd grown up with Rose. Ewan was something completely differently. Could she teach him about love?

She grinned wryly. She was willing to try. Especially if it involved more kisses. But what if it didn't?

Early the next afternoon Rose dashed off the elevator, her heart pounding, Sequoia close on her heels. Once the doors slid shut behind them, mey glanced at each other and burst into laughter, which helped to ease Rose's tension. She was going to have to be more careful.

The danger past, she shifted the shopping bags in her arms and started toward her room.

"I am never going near another child," she declared. "At least not while my magic is operating on its own."

Sequoia darted a look over her shoulder toward the elevator. "It could have been worse. What if he'd wished for a horse instead of a candy bar?"

Rose froze, her eyes wide. "A horse wouldn't have fit on that elevator. Gads, his parents were freaked as it was." When her cousin merely grinned, Rose shook her head. "There has to be some way to control this."

"Go back to using your magic."

"I can't." Rose slid the card into the door, then pushed the door open as it clicked.

"Not true." Sequoia followed her inside. "You can. You won't."

True enough, but Rose wasn't going to be the one to give up. "Brand started it."

Sequoia dumped her packages on the bed. "Now you sound like you're ten years old again."

"Me?" Rose grinned. "What can I say? Brand brings out only the best in me."

A mischievous gleam sparkled in Sequoia's eyes. "Was that why your tongue was hanging out yesterday?"

Rose turned away to drop her bags on the bed as well, not wanting her cousin to see her face. Tree knew her too well. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Oh, yes, you do." Sequoia sank into an overstuffed chair. "Seeing Brand nearly naked definitely got your attention." Drawing in a deep breath to steady her nerves, Rose glanced at her friend. "Any naked man would get my attention." Unwilling to pursue those feelings, she continued, "Was that why you wished him undressed?"

"Partly. I was hoping to shake his unflappable calm, too." Sequoia stretched out her feet. "With no luck, as usual."

"He's always been that way." Even as a child Brand had remained in control no matter what happened. A familiar ache filled her chest. He'd had enough control to break off a friendship that had endured for thirteen years, to break her heart when she'd needed his support more than ever before. Sequoia must have sensed Rose's depression for she produced a bright smile. "Well, are you going to model some of this stuff for me?"

"Everything?" Glad to change the subject, Rose examined the pile of bags on the bed. Thank goodness, she rarely had to spend money. She couldn't afford sprees like this often, but she had to have clothing. Being unable to magically produce something to wear put a serious dent in her bank account.

"Sure. Why not?" Sequoia pushed to her feet and joined Rose beside the bed to rummage in the mult.i.tude of sacks. With a grin, she held up a slinky baby-doll nightgown in a pale green silk. 'Think Brand will like this?"

Rose s.n.a.t.c.hed the gown away. "Did you buy this? I told you not to."

Her cousin laughed. "You might need it."

The thought of Brand seeing her in the gown sent a ripple of trepidation along Rose's nerves. "Never going to happen." Brand wasn't even her friend any longer, let alone anything more than that.

"We'll see. Try this outfit, then." Sequoia tossed a pant suit at her.

This Rose could handle. She took it with her into the bathroom and changed quickly. The black slacks and knee-length jacket could dress up or down, depending on the blouse she wore with it. Or perhaps no blouse at all.

Rose b.u.t.toned the jacket and stared at her reflection in the large mirror. The vee of the jacket dipped low, revealing her bra. If she ever did decide to go blouse-less she'd need to go braless and use double-sided tape for sure.

After removing the jacket, she added the rose-colored blouse. Better. She stepped into the main room and pirouetted for her cousin. "What do you think?"

"Nice. Of course, everything looks great on you with your figure and coloring."

Rose smiled wryly. "I could say the same about you."

"Ha. When you're as short as I am, nothing ever fits the first time. I'm always having to shorten things."

Whereas Rose was considered average height, a surprise considering how pet.i.te her mother was. "But the end result is what counts." She tilted her head toward the bags. 'Try on that dress you bought."

"Only if you try on the red one." Sequoia waggled her eyebrows. "I'm dying to see how you look in it."

Rose held up the slinky dress, eyeing it with some trepidation. "I don't know how I let you talk me into this."

"It's made for you, Rose. Try it on." Sequoia pushed Rose toward the bathroom, then drew back. "Let me run to my room for a moment. I have a necklace that will go perfect with it. I'll be right back."

She darted out, leaving the door open just enough so it wouldn't latch, and Rose entered the bathroom again. Once undressed, she held the fire-engine-red gown against her. It had looked great on the model, but what would it be like on her? Her curves weren't quite as p.r.o.nounced.

With a sigh, she shimmied into the silky material, tugging it into place over her hips. The full skirt dropped to her knees and swirled around her legs, flaring as she moved. The waist nipped in, making her appear even slimmer. The bodice, however, was another story.

She couldn't wear a bra. That was a given with the spaghetti straps. She removed her bra, then straightened the material again and turned to the mirror. Though not quite as daring a dip as the jacket had been, the dress dived in a vee, accenting the beginning swells of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s while the rest of the material clung to her slim curves, leaving little to the imagination.

Sequoia had called it a woo-hoo dress. Rose had to agree. She turned to glance at the back, which dipped even lower to highlight the long line of her spine. But did she have the courage to wear it in public? She'd bought it hoping to wow Brand, to convince him to loosen up around her and perhaps share some of his magic secrets. At least, that's what she'd told herself. But viewing her reflection now, she wondered about his reaction, her interest more emotional than logical. If he found her attractive, would he stop hating her? Would he see her as a woman? Hold her? Touch her? Imagining Brand's strong hands against her bare back sent an arrow of fire through Rose, her gut clenching, her nipples pebbling. She caught her breath, watching her cheeks stain pink. She shook her head to clear away such thoughts. The last thing she needed was to get any closer to Brand. She had an expose to write and it was tough enough already. She'd bought the dress to get a story. Nothing more.

Hearing the outer door open, she blew out a puff of air. Sequoia would be waiting to see the woo-hoo dress. Rose yanked open the bathroom door and danced into the bedroom, her arms outstretched. "What do you think, Tree? Will Brand like it?"

She stopped, abruptly. Sequoia hadn't returned yet. Instead, Brand stood just inside the door, his hand still resting on the edge of it.

Rose's heart jumped into her throat as his gaze traveled the length of her, top to bottom, then back up to her face. A slow smile slid across his face.

"Can I make a wish?"

Six.

Brand couldn't stop staring. A dress like that was designed to send a man's hormones into overdrive and his were revving right on cue. Like it? What he felt at this moment was far more than that. He stepped toward Rose, unable to stop himself, the urge to touch her overpowering. "Oh, yeah, I like it," he added. All his memories of Rose had her in jeans and T-shirts. If he remembered correctly, she usually didn't like to dress up.

"What's the occasion?" Pink stained Rose's cheeks and she glanced away, her hands fluttering in a very un-Roselike gesture. Nervous? Rose? Well, her words had made it clear she hadn't expected him. He grinned. "I... ah ... bought it for your final show, for when you do your big act." She recovered quickly, the tilt of her chin reflecting her defiance. "What are you doing here? Do you always just walk into someone's room?" "I knocked and the door opened." He stepped closer yet, his smile widening as her eyes grew large. "Not safe to leave your door unlatched, you know."

"Sequoia was coming right back."

Rose didn't retreat, but he sensed that she wanted to. How like her. Defiant no matter what the circ.u.mstances. "Actually, I was looking for Sequoia. I heard you two had been shopping."

He glanced at the bed laden with packages, articles of clothing strewn over them. Spotting a filmy negligee, he lifted it and glanced at Rose, his blood wanning as he imagined her wearing it. "Is this for me, too?"

"Sequoia bought that for me." Rose s.n.a.t.c.hed it from his hand. "It's not your size."

He had to laugh. That was his Rose.

His smile faded as quickly as it came. His Rose. No, never that.

Clenching his fists, he stepped away from her, his brain finally starting to overrule the heat in his veins. "I'll find Sequoia." "I'm here." Sequoia stepped inside, a necklace dangling from her hand. She hesitated, her gaze darting from Rose to Brand. "What do you need, Brand?" He wasn't sure if what he felt was relief or annoyance. "We're going to the theater now. I want to do a run-through before tonight." "Sounds good." Sequoia turned to Rose and her face lit up. "Wow, you're gorgeous, Rose. I told you that dress was perfect." She jammed her elbow into Brand's side. "One s.e.xy dress, eh?"

As if he needed her to tell him that. The evidence was standing before him, making it extremely difficult to remember to keep his distance. "Very," he admitted. He heard himself continue, his mouth working without any a.s.sistance from his brain. "Wear that dress tonight and I'll buy you dinner."

Odd what a fire-engine-red dress could make a man do.

Rose smiled for the first time. "I bought a different dress for tonight."

"Is it as nice as this one?" Brand wasn't sure his heart could take it.

"That'll be for you to decide." Mischief sparkled in her eyes and he suddenly wanted to see that dress as well.

'Then we'll see about dinner, too." Maybe he could undo the impetuousness of his mouth.

He eased out the door. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes, Sequoia."

She nodded. "I'll be ready."

"I'll be ready, too," Rose added.

Brand started to protest, then grimaced. She was keeping her part of the bargain. He had to do the same. "Fifteen minutes," he repeated.

And fled.

Rose stepped from the taxi that evening, then slid her hands over her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles with damp palms as she glanced at the signs outside the Fox Theater. Brandon Goodfellow, Magician Extraordinaire- Two Nights Only.

Magician Extraordinaire. Too true. He was doing something to her, that was certain. Why else would she be so nervous about seeing Brand after the show tonight? Or have spent so much extra time in dressing? Of course, part of that had been necessity. d.a.m.n, she missed using her magic.

People surged around her and she melted into the crowd, eager to find her seat. She'd never seen one of Brand's live performances before and couldn't deny the antic.i.p.ation building within her. What she'd seen of the rehearsals promised an excellent show.

Once inside the lobby, she paused. The recently renovated theater was even more impressive at night, the interior lined with the ma.s.sive columns and illuminated by dim lamps. The place shimmered with ambience and elegance- perfect for a Brandon Goodfellow performance.

Letting the crowd carry her along, she made her way to the enormous auditorium dominated by great Oriental arches and a ma.s.sive stage. Gilded ornate plasterwork covered the walls, drawing Rose's gaze up to the magnificent chandelier dangling in the center of a concave ceiling. She hadn't noticed it earlier in the day, but it made a world of difference to the setting.

She could feel magic in the air.

With a smile, she found her seat-only a few rows from the stage and almost directly in the middle. Perfect for observation of mirrors and trapdoors.

Okay, the show can start any time.

She'd only been sitting for a few minutes when someone behind her kicked her seat. Looking around, she spotted a boy of about eight years old swinging his legs as he chattered to his mother beside him.

"Would you mind not kicking, please?" she asked.

The boy's mother immediately placed her hand on the boy's legs. "I'm sorry," she said. "Hold still, Niall."

The lights dimmed as Rose faced front again and her antic.i.p.ation surged. Finally she would see Brandon's live performance.

She removed a pen and notepad from her purse to take notes, but from the moment Brand appeared on the stage, she forgot to write. Maybe it was the lighting or the way he dominated the stage or the tailored black tuxedo he wore, but he appeared taller, elegant, mysterious, and far too handsome for a mere mortal.

He bantered with the audience as he worked, drawing them into his world, directing their attention where he wanted it. Rose had always thought Brand's father, Robin, was the most charming man she'd ever met, but Brand easily had enough charm to seduce a small town.

His illusions appeared effortless, yet drew enthusiastic applause, especially when he pulled members of the audience on to the stage to a.s.sist him. At first she tried to watch for clues as to how he performed his magic, but he captured her interest, too, until all she could do was watch him.

d.a.m.n, he was good.

He made her believe in his magic. She, who knew better than anyone alive the difference between real magic and that of illusionists. No wonder he was the best. His mastery was far superior to that of the other magicians she'd exposed.

Which meant this expose was going to take much longer than she'd expected-a thought that didn't entirely displease her. After all, that gave her more time to spend with her cousin.

As Sequoia pushed a water tank onto the stage, Rose tensed. No matter how many escapes she'd seen, she always found them unnerving, and watching Brand with his hands cuffed climb into the tank and the lid locked down brought her heart into her throat. Sequoia covered the tank with a curtain, then held up an oversized clock so everyone could watch the seconds tick by.

Rationally, Rose knew exactly what Brand had to be doing in there, but that didn't ease her racing pulse or tight throat. As the seconds pa.s.sed, she gripped her armrest so tightly her knuckles turned white. Shouldn't he be out by now?

About the time she was ready to jump to her feet and take action, Brand appeared on the stage in a puff of smoke, damp but breathing. Thunderous applause echoed in the theater, but Rose didn't join in. She couldn't. Her bones felt like jelly, her muscles incapable of moving.

Brand caught her eye and his smile broadened. He gave her a quick wink, then bowed again to the continued applause.

Rose grimaced. He would notice her worry. No doubt, she'd hear about it after the show. After her stunned reaction to his appearance in her room, he was going to think she was interested in him for more than his illusions. And she wasn't. Well, not entirely.

Okay, so he was devastatingly handsome ... and charming ... and intelligent... and turned her insides to mush. That didn't mean she still harbored any feelings for him. She didn't dare. Getting this story was complicated enough already.

"Isn't he going to fly, Mom?" the boy behind her asked, his voice carrying easily.

"Shh, dear. He doesn't do that. That's David Copper-field."

Rose resisted turning around to tell them that Brand would solve that illusion someday soon. She knew he'd been working on it for years, and with his persistence he would figure it out. After all, it had taken David Copper-field years to develop his illusion of flight as well.

The boy kicked Rose's seat once. "I wish he could fly," he muttered, his tone sulky.

Rose realized what the boy had said at the same moment Brand's eyes widened and he rose slowly off the stage. He glanced at Rose, and she responded with a wry smile and a nod to the boy behind her. What could she do now?

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, you will be the first to see my newest illusion." Brand spread his arms wide and rose even higher until he floated at least ten feet off the stage. "That of flight."