THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC (35 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #psychic, #comedy, #wealthy, #beach, #Malcolm, #inventor, #virgin, #California

BOOK: THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC
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“If their parents are in any small way psychic or empathic, they may be more valuable in the diplomatic corps than as teachers,” Nadine pointed out. “I’ve studied our genealogy, read the general’s library. Hundreds of years ago, families stayed at home and helped each other. The world was a smaller place. We can’t do that anymore.”

“Maybe, we could each take a little time to visit the school?” Pippa asked tentatively, before a guest called to her from the kitchen, and she had to hurry away.

“Maybe,” Nadine whispered to herself.

Thirty-three

Magnus stood under the bougainvillea-draped pergola with his brothers, watching the women emerge from the guest bungalow garden. The rehearsal might reduce the bride’s wedding anxiety, but Conan was tensely jiggling coins in his pocket and shifting from foot to foot.

At Dorrie’s arrival, the groom focused on his bride to the detriment of all else, but at least he finally stood still.

Oz continued giving clipped orders into his ear phone.

Restless, Magnus searched the guests for Nadine.

A cell phone emitted a discreet alarm. Dragged from his focus on his bride, Conan scowled. He rummaged in his pocket for the culprit, glanced at the screen, and handed it to Magnus. He returned to watching Dorrie give instructions to her flower girl niece.

Magnus didn’t recognize the number on the screen but answered anyway.

“Oswin? This is Deputy Black with the sheriff’s department. Do you know where we can find Miss Nadine Malcolm?”

That didn’t sound promising. His stomach clenched while his gaze traveled across the crowd, hunting for a splash of apricot. “This is Magnus Oswin. I can give a message to Nadine.” The man had called Conan, so presumably he knew the players here.

Deputy Black cleared his throat, stalling. A low voice in the background apparently spurred him on. “We have some bad news for Miss Malcolm. Perhaps it would be best if you can tell us where to find her.”

“In El Padre, with all the rest of us, at a wedding party. Is this news that can wait until after the wedding tomorrow?” Magnus hadn’t worked in war zones without recognizing the hesitation and the reason, so he prompted the speaker. “If it’s about the general, you’d best tell me now so I can judge the best time.”

“Joseph Adams died in the hospital an hour ago, after ingesting an unknown substance,” Black replied. “The medical examiner has been called.”


Friggin’ son of a bitch bastard
 . . .” Magnus searched his vast vocabulary of curse words but couldn’t find appropriate ones to express emotions running the gamut from fury to regret. The damned general had found one final way to make Nadine suffer. “Suicide,” he concluded. “Have you notified his sons?”

The deputy sounded almost relieved at his reaction. “I believe they’re already consulting lawyers. I assure you, everything possible was done—”

“That’s understood,” Magnus responded instantly and curtly. “You’re not to blame. I’ll have Nadine call if she needs details. I assume his sons are making arrangements?”

Action, Magnus understood. He knew how to be a barrier between the introverted Librarian and the real world. He wanted to be her shield. He simply didn’t know if she wanted him to step in.

Just trying to decipher his own reaction as he handed the phone back to Conan was too difficult. Oz glanced at him quizzically, but Magnus shook his head. He nodded at the women approaching to indicate now wasn’t the time.

He searched for Nadine again and found her holding Mikala’s hand at the edge of the crowd. She glowed like a candle flame in the twilight, outshining all Pippa’s ridiculous twinkle lights.

Considering everything she’d been through, Nadine was stronger than a flame. She wouldn’t flicker out in a wind. The news of the general’s death would sadden her, but after the shock was over, she would realize that her stepfather couldn’t have handled prison. Magnus hoped he was getting better at this understanding people business. Or at least, understanding Nadine.

Rather than slow the bride’s procession from the cottage, Ryan Franklin had stationed himself near the pergola. He limped out now to lead Dorrie to the altar. The real estate magnate had apparently recovered sufficiently from his stroke to give his only daughter away.

Magnus didn’t recognize the wizened old man acting as minister but appreciated his speed in explaining the ceremony. When the minister indicated it was time for the couple to depart down the red carpet serving as aisle, Conan kissed his bride instead. They didn’t seem interested in stopping anytime soon.

Oz shrugged, took Pippa’s arm, and started back to their guests, according to instruction.

Bo came to claim his ex-wife, Dorrie’s other bridesmaid.

Duty done, Magnus made a straight line to where he’d last seen Nadine.

She wasn’t there, of course. He contemplated a lifetime of tracking an elusive will-o’-the- wisp of a woman.

“Very impressive groomsmen,” her familiar voice taunted behind him. “Will all of you remember to turn off your phones tomorrow?”

“Probably not.” Magnus swung around and gathered her into his arms. “Is Pippa serving more than bean sprouts or should we go somewhere else to eat?”

“As I understand it, Conan insisted on real meat, so Oz has a barbecue chef preparing a he-man table. You should be fine.”

“I was afraid the smoke was some family ritual for sacrificing small animals to the wedding gods. Glad to know that civilization and common sense still prevail.”

She laughed. Magnus hated to dampen her spirits with the bad news. He led her in the side entrance and followed his nose to the buffet.

“Who was so important that you had to talk to them during rehearsal?” Nadine asked as they entered the crowded dining area.

Magnus grimaced. “Could we eat first?” Using his height, he located the table with real food and pushed her toward it.

Apparently sensing his mood, Nadine filled her plate and didn’t waste time on chatter. Magnus appreciated her ability to give him time to formulate sentences. Once they had their food, he led her back to the terrace

Only a few guests had wandered from the crowded buffet to occupy the outdoor tables. Magnus steered Nadine toward a deserted corner near the bar.

“You’re not too cold?” he asked, pulling out one of the bar chairs and helping her up. The overhead heater had been turned on.

She tugged a shawl around her. “I’m good.” She sipped her wine, then met his gaze. “So, tell me.”

“Eat.” He pointed his fork at her plate.

“I’ll have to use pool cushions to clobber you if you don’t talk,” she warned. “Is Vera okay?”

“Vera’s fine. I wouldn’t make you wait for that.” When she seemed to accept his need to protect her from unpleasantness, he gave the conversation a more pleasant turn. “I promised to take you anywhere you wanted when this was over. Have you decided yet?”

“Everywhere. I want to go everywhere.” Her eyes gleamed mischievously over the sandwich she’d made of her roll.

“Yeah, I could get into that,” he agreed, before injecting his real concern. “Especially if I’m allowed to go with you.” He could see himself with Nadine in a bed on both tropical islands and snow-capped mountains. That worked real well in his head.

It was Nadine’s head that worried him.

She licked sauce off her finger, and he nearly expired with the need to lick it for her. He shoved a forkful of beans into his mouth.

She seemed to be studying him with interest, not pummeling him with pool cushions. That had to be a good sign, so he kept his mouth shut and chewed. He wouldn’t push her into what he wanted.

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she agreed, to his relief. “But you have projects, a business of sorts, I guess. I don’t want to stand in your way anymore.”

He waved a chicken leg dismissively. “Where would we go first?” Because it had worked so well the first time, he shoved the drumstick in his mouth to keep from saying too much. She looked good enough to eat but he didn’t think telling her that would help his cause.

“Australia?” she asked tentatively, still studying him over her wine. “I’ve traced some of our ancestors there. It would be fun to see if we have long lost relatives.”

“I haven’t been there. I’m game.” She could have said Antarctica, and he’d have said the same. He had it bad. But he didn’t want to influence her decisions by telling her how he felt. Damn, it was hard not taking the lead and grabbing what he wanted.

“Do you know what will happen to the academy?” she asked, even more uncertainly than she’d phrased the question about Australia.

“No clue. Want me to find out?”

She tightened her lips and stared over his shoulder. “No. I have to start doing things on my own. I’ll talk to Chang tomorrow. He’ll want to shut it down if he gets Jo-jo’s power of attorney.”

Here it was. He couldn’t deny the opening. Magnus took a swig of his beer for fortification before speaking. “Chang won’t need that,” he said gruffly.

Nadine was poking at something filled with mushrooms. She cast him an inquiring look. “No?”

“The general must have kept a poison pill on him. He died about an hour ago.” More or less. Magnus froze, waiting for the hysterics.

Tears gleamed in Nadine’s eyes. She stabbed a piece of meat without looking at it. “I should have guessed that. I should have told them to look for it, but I couldn’t even stand to think of them putting him into a prison suit.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and spun the stool around to face the wall.

Magnus couldn’t bear watching her whole body shake with sobs. Leaving his plate half empty, he slid off his stool. Wrapping his arms around her, he hauled her off the chair and against him, where she could cry on his shoulder . “He made his choices. You don’t have to pay for them any longer.”

She wept, drenching his suit lapel. He wished he knew how to comfort her, but that had never been his strength. He just held her and let her cry and wished he could have killed the general with his bare hands for doing this to her.

When the storm of tears seemed to be subsiding, he offered his handkerchief. “Do we need to leave? Just tell me what you want.”

“I’m a mess. I’ll go back to the studio. Why don’t you stay and talk to your family?” She wiped her eyes and pulled back to let him go.

This was where he usually did as told and walked away in relief. He was lousy at tears. But the connection to Nadine was too strong. He felt her grief and couldn’t abandon her.

“Everyone will still be around tomorrow. Want me to grab a bottle of wine or a tub of ice cream?”

She laughed a little and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man Magnus Oswin. Maybe I should reward you with whipped cream.”

“You’ve been Googling sex, haven’t you?” He lifted her over his shoulder and carried her down the garden path, while she laughed, cried, and beat at his back.

***

Their hostess was a vegetarian and didn’t keep plastic whipped cream in her refrigerator. Since Magnus had so generously left without finishing his he-man dinner, Nadine rewarded him with dessert. She used jam.

Given the way he fell on her like a hungry lion, she had a feeling that Magnus didn’t need enticement.

Confused at what to expect of the future, saddened by the unnecessary death of a brilliant mind, Nadine reveled in the mindless release of sex. She promptly fell asleep cuddled in the shelter of this courageous man’s big arms, relieved that Magnus hadn’t lost interest in her now that the job was done.

It remained to be seen whether he’d still be interested once she figured out how she would accomplish what she needed to do next. She didn’t mean to test his patience. It just happened that way.

She woke early, in the gray light of dawn. Restlessly, she took a shower and donned the fluffy hotel robe Pippa had provided. She fixed tea for herself and coffee for Magnus. Sipping the hot brew, she studied the wardrobe Pippa had chosen. The lady had excellent taste.

Magnus rose from the bed, shedding covers like Neptune rising from the sea. He kissed her so thoroughly that she almost decided to go back to bed. But they had duties to attend. Reluctantly, he pulled away, grabbed his coffee, and headed for the shower.

Still in her robe, she stood in the open studio entrance, sipping her tea. It was a cool gray morning. From this valley, little was visible in the direction of the house, but she knew its location, knew what Mikala’s room looked like. She opened her mind just a little, to see if she was awake.

The little girl’s happiness spilled into her, although Nadine couldn’t quite understand the jumble of thoughts. She sent a mental hug and returned inside again.

She needed to make a life of her own. She’d been dreaming of running away to exotic locales all her life—but that’s what it would have been, running away. She’d had reason to run when the general had been alive. But now that he was out of the picture . . . She was not only bereft, but directionless.

She’d still like to travel, but after her recent experiences, she wanted something more tangible, more soul-satisfying. She wanted people in her life—people who weren’t creeped out by her weirdness, people who didn’t give her migraines with their angry thoughts.

People like Magnus, who blocked the constant low roar of mental activity around her. She studied him as he emerged from the shower wearing a man-sized blue robe.

“Wedding’s not until noon,” he told her, aware of her gaze, as always. “Want to just put on casual and go up to the house for a while?”

Her introversion screamed no. Her understanding of Magnus had her nodding yes. His Zorro complex carried to his brothers and their families. They needed his steadying influence on a tumultuous day like today.

“You’re okay?” he asked, gathering her in his arms and enfolding her in the safety of his big chest.

“I’m okay. I’m kind of . . . disconnected. I’ve never not had a home. And my work and the general have been my life for years. It’s very weird having nothing.”

“You have me,” he said with assurance.

She had
him.
That added a wealth of reassurance that she needed right now.

“And you have Vera,” he continued, as if not realizing how much his declaration had meant to her. “And I promise, once the wedding distraction is over, you’ll have entire families wanting to take you apart and blend you in. No worries for now. Today is for not thinking.”

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